#I was like: damn these lyrics are mid! What if it was PEAK--

[moonstonecanyon]

(August 2024.)

I had a terrible (great) idea for a song mashup the other day, so me + @greenswing + JashuoN on Twitter collaborated to make this mashup REAL.

I also made the thumbnail/video art! JashuoN made the SA2 logo.

I ALSO.... drew my Metal for this vid too... ///

[moonlight-tmd]

(don’t mind me, just reviving this tag BUT-)I’ve never watched TFA but i read a god damn bunch of fics on it soo i have a fic idea. maybe i’ll write it, maybe not.

Anyway, so-Sari found out, by accident when they were playing some karaoke game, that Bee has a really good singing voice. And she’ll beg for Bee to sing something for her but he won’t do it in front of anyone cuz he’s too anxious about it.

That’s why he sneaks out at night into one of the abandoned warehouses just outside the city, where he can sing all he wants by himself. Then during one of those night-out Blitz finds him during his night patrol, he doesn’t think much of it at first but out of curiosity he keeps coming to that warehouse to secretly listen to Bee sing. The more he comes there the more he enjoys his stays there, as well as he finds that the autobot actually has a really nice voice. Sometimes he’ll just listen, sometimes he'll dance a little, overall vibing to the music and the singing. Sometimes Bee will sing happy songs, sometimes sad ones, depending on what mood he was in. Blitz finds them relatable and starts cathing feels for the mini-bot, not that he'll admit. He’ll go to the spot and listen to the songs, and leave little gifts for Bee when he has feeling particularly sad; cool rocks, car parts, little flower bouquets. Bee would find them and feel a little creeped out at first, but he learns to appreciate the gesture from whoever was leaving these for him. Each one made him more confident about his singing. He’ll dance and sing loud, even hang a disco ball to perform his songs with. He doesn’t know who his secret viewer is but that doesn’t stop him from showing his best at the performances. That’s until he sees a vague reflection of someone dancing outside the warehouse. [He sees is in something shiny, glass or some part of a scrap car outside, idk] Bee however would not stop his sneak-outs to perform. In fact, he would do it more often, and the song genre would slowly shift towards love and admiration songs. As the time goes on Bee dares to change few words in the lyrics so it’ll be vaguely about Blitz. He’s seen Blitz outside of battle few times, and he seemed like a cool guy, and the fact that he comes here to listen to Bee AND leaves him gifts. That’s kind of sweet actually.  In battlefield, he’ll get more cocky and tease Blitz with flirty smiles and winks, to which the Triplechanger totally falls for. He stands there baffled, unable to comprehend what just happened while Bee gets his way in whatever they were doing. He sometimes shoots back a flirty line of some sort which does make Bee flustered, but he really doesn’t know what this feeling he’s dealing with is when he sees Bee just blushing like that. Some secret performences later, both Blitz and Bee find themselves having admiration for each other, Bee of course, the smug bastard that he is, embraces it and goes all the way to make the love songs as good and about Blitz as possible without the other finding out that quickly. Unknowingly to Bee, Blitz is almost completely obvious to it all. He’ll get this weird feeling whenever the songs would sound odd or the lyrics wouldn’t match up to the ones he heard on the radio once but he just blames it on the silly bug messing up in his grand shows. He’ll continue to admire him, leave him better gifts for the good performances and aim in his general direction instead of straight at him. And that’s until Bee decides enough vagueness is enough and pulls a love song specifically about Blitz into his already love-song-filled repertoire [i’m thinking Shut up and Dance with some changes].

And THAT’S when Blitz will have the grand realization, all these little changes in songs, the way Bee was in combat, all those things have been diected AT HIM. BEE WAS SINGING ABOUT HIM.  Somewhere in the song Bee calls out for him and he hesitates whether to leave now or go out there, he peaks out inside and Bee immidiatelly makes eye contact mid dance. He continues singing, urging Blitz to come join him and Blitz does and they end up finishing the song together. There’s a whole lot of teasing and bickering afterwards but they agree to do this again sometime. I feel like i should write this but i have no idea how since my inspiration goes from one thing to another pretty quickly and this seems like a long-term task.

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

Chapter 53 teaser!

HI guys! First i want to thank everyone who has liked, commented reblogged even followed! Never did I think Id reach 103 followers! I hope everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving break, as well. Now, I am going to post tonights chapter in the afternoon, but I wanted to leave you guys with a teaser, and believe me shits about to go down! this will probably be two parts as well. We are finally getting to the action and spiciness, of it all. More revelations are going to occur as well. But with out further a do... heres a sneak peak! Also let me know if you guys know the song lyric... (Wink Wink)

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Close your eyes and let your feels go Now you're gettin' real close Baby, I am on the way..."

I stopped mid-sentence, my grip tightening on the paper as rage boiled over. I turned to Sanji, my glare sharp enough to cut steel. "I won’t say the rest—it gets too detailed for my liking." Without a second thought, I lit the paper on fire with my left hand, watching it curl into ash before dropping it on the floor.

Sanji’s eyes widened in alarm as he took a step forward. "Y/N, I didn’t—"

"How many times did you two...?" I asked sharply, my voice low but filled with venom. I didn’t even look at him, my fists clenched at my sides.

Sanji blinked, his confusion clear. "What do you—"

I snapped, cutting him off before he could finish. "I’m asking you a question, dammit. How many times?"

He hesitated, his shoulders tensing as his eyes darted between me and the ground. "Three," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with guilt.

Nami’s jaw dropped in shock. "Three?!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief. "Sanji, are you serious right now?!"

I could feel my body trembling as the room spun slightly, the rage and betrayal swirling in my chest like a storm. Before I could react further, Chopper rushed to my side, his tiny hooves gripping my arm. "Y/N, calm down! You’re shaking too much—you’re going to faint!" he cried, his voice filled with worry.

I staggered slightly, my vision blurring as Chopper’s words faded into the background. The betrayal, the humiliation, and the sheer audacity of it all were too much to bear. "Get away from me," I managed to say through clenched teeth, though I didn’t resist as Chopper guided me to sit down before I collapsed entirely.

Sanji looked utterly crushed, his hands trembling as he reached out but hesitated. "Y/N... I never wanted this. I didn’t—"

"Don’t," I said coldly, my voice laced with venom as I glared at him through the tears threatening to fall. "Just... don’t."

Bege chuckled, exhaling a puff of smoke with a smirk plastered across his face. "Well, this is shaping up to be one hell of a rehearsal," he said, his amusement cutting through the heavy atmosphere. "If the tea party’s half this dramatic, it’ll go down in the history books."

"Y/N, your blood pressure—come sit down," Chopper urged, his tiny hands tugging at mine. His concern softened the sharp edge of my anger just enough for me to let him guide me toward the sofa.

"I’m just so angry right now," I muttered, sitting down heavily as Nami wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Her silent support kept me from spiraling further as I buried my face in my hands, fighting against the heat building behind my eyes.

Brook stepped forward cautiously, his usual humor subdued. "Y/N… if only Zoro were here…"

Sanji tensed immediately, the air in the room shifting as his cigarette snapped between his fingers. "Zoro?!" he spat, his voice sharp and tinged with bitterness. "What the hell does moss head have to do with any of this?"

I glanced up from my hands, glaring at him through tear-streaked eyes. "Don’t start, Sanji," I warned, my voice low.

"Oh, I’m starting," he snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Every damn time, it’s Zoro this, Zoro that. What’s he gonna do? Gawk at the moon and grunt his way through this mess? I’m here! I’ve been here!"

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[thesinglesjukebox]

MITSKI - MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE

(Mostly) Our Love Ours All Ours

[7.64]

Ian Mathers: Critical support for maybe our greatest current musician, who keeps the really key things in mind. Namely, never releasing a record that crosses the 33-minute mark. Sure, it's more important that this beautifully intense murmur of a song hits me square in the heart in ways that are too personal to articulate here right now, but I don't want to lose sight of the 33-minute thing either. [9]

Andrew Karpan: Sugary and alive, Mitski deserves this, a hit record that will likely be remembered as the millennial answer to "Fade Into You." Or, as Mitski says it best, in a marketing appearance promoting the song for the Genius brand, "to love is truly the best and most beautiful thing I ever did." [10]

Nortey Dowuona: Mitski is apparently a star now. For several years, she made earnest, plaintive songs which were received by a small but willing audience who was delighted to feel the same way as a generational talent who could sincerely speak to them. Then, by Be The Cowboy, she blossomed into a star, something more than a person who made earnest plaintive songs, a massive ball of heat and light who shone so brightly she couldn't see anything anymore. And of course, she tried to return to being at the very least a white dwarf, but supporting a solar system is so tied to the fact of being alive and being an artist that exploding and erasing the ties that bound her could not be done by deleting Twitter. Mitski, just like the sun that spins the planet on which I wrote this word, was not going to implode because it was valid for her health, her ability to live with being a creator of life would return. And eventually she would return to music as well, creating this slight, barely there country ballad about the possessive nature of her love. The sun loves us just as much as Mitski loves you and could exist without us too, but who would behold its beauty? Not Genius, that's who. [9]

Hannah Jocelyn: This song floated by without incident on first listen to The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We - songs like "The Deal" and "I Love Me After You" were more impressive to me, for its reconciliation of Mitski's claustrophobic distortion with her more traditional songwriting. Then it went stratospheric on TikTok then it went stratospheric everywhere. Maybe it's because the unassuming quality made it perfect as background music, maybe because it's two minutes; it might also be really damn good. The qualities that make Mitski so beloved are still there, especially her unpredictable chord progressions and intensity -- she can't go through a love song without a line as theatrical as "nothing in the world belongs to me." Yet there's no self-sabotage or dissonance; it's just plainly beautiful and timeless. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: She's always tended towards the jazzy and dirgelike, but this is Mitski in peak form: the lyric is a sketch exquisitely rendered -- while on Be the Cowboy, she wrote short stories in her stanzas, this is something even more skeletal, a narrative embedded within the slightest of narrative shifts. Patrick Hyland's production work has always worked to accentuate the more subtle accomplishments of Mitski's music; here he outdoes himself, taking what could have been an overly fussy mid-century torch song and allowing it to breathe with a certain country plainspokeness. And yet I do not love "My Love Mine All Mine" quite as much as I want to love it -- it feels like a song that answers all of its own questions from an artist that does her best when she leaves more open to interpretation. [8]

Vikram Joseph: There's really nothing wrong with what Mitski actually gives us here - a tasteful, timeless-sounding ballad, smooth and crystalline with pedal steel melting into the scenery. I think I just miss the angst and dissonance of her older work - even when Modern Mitski sounds sad, she's sad in an oddly arch way which sounds like she's three degrees of separation from the actual sad person. As a pathos-laden expression of dedication, "My Love Mine All Mine" at least works better than "Me And My Husband", a song I will never be able to take seriously, but it does very little for me. [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Mitski is better when casual poignancy isn't the point. Her best songs steamroll over you, be they big or small, sad or extra sad. "My Love Mine All Mine" finds a nice Goldilocks zone to secure her a hit, but this lovely ballad is simply just that. [4]

Alfred Soto: I like Mitski when she gets sinister or worried over programmed beats and yards of guitar. This synth-country landscape flattens her like it did Jenny Lewis and Kacey Musgraves. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: The Nashville instrumentation is just decoration. And the TikTok virality is misleading (or not, if you ignore the conventional wisdom that everything that blows up there is memeshit). On Be the Cowboy, Mitski's music began a slow arc toward Jerome Kern balladry and songbook standards, and "My Love Mine All Mine" continues the drift. What she loses in visceral emotion, she gains in haunting lineage. [8]

Tara Hillegeist: "Lynchian" is an adjective applied to excess most often in film, rather than music; Mitski's career provides ample food for thought as to the reasons for such a disparity. The birthing pangs of her current style were anything but as simple, as many of her past musical compositions often aspired to be -- to pack such naive melodies with enough antic heartache that one's ribcage bears the internal bruise is an aspiration that can easily go awry and leave one stranded in the land of the maudlin and mawkish, rather than piercingly insightful, and there's more than a few examples of both littering Mitski's back catalog by now. But to listen to "My Love"'s almost lysergic deployment of a swooning orchestral blush; the way Mitski's voice ripens almost to rotting with that obsessive slow-dance of a chorus ... this is music for the bugs to pick clean an American corpse to. Angelo Badalamenti would be proud. [9]

Tim de Reuse: Dripping with Nashville cash, Mitski's pathos no longer derives from a plucky indie-upstart unpredictability. There is no unsteadiness in her voice anymore; she chews the microphone to sing about the end of her life, wishing only for a symbolic, cosmic victory. Here she plays a ghost, or a corpse, preserved in a glossy, gelatinous mix, and barely able to raise her voice above a casual mutter. It's gorgeous, and also deeply unnerving. I didn't know Mitski could do unnerving. Even in death, she surprises. [8]

Jonathan Bradley: A twilit romantic slow jam that draws cozy darkness as literally from its slow organ drift and sepia pedal steel as it does its actual moonbeam lyric. This is comfortable terrain for Mitski, whom I picture composing every one of her songs while driving along a rural road on a dark night, but there's no shame in repeating yourself if you're good at it. [7]

Brad Shoup: In my household, "My Love Mine All Mine" is most notable for getting Caitlin Rose into the Top 40. She's only here on vocals, but her ethos -- cozy existentialism that uses the pedal steel like a flashlight -- is all over this. This may not be as distinctive as, like, the plaintive noise-pop of "I Don't Smoke." But the sway is still the same. And her impossible requests are just as devastating. [8]

Oliver Maier: Sometimes I don't think I know how to write about music. I think everyone who tries it has probably felt that way at some point, some sense of the inadequacy of their words, the impulse to throw up their hands and say "just listen to it" (complimentary) or "just listen to it" (derogatory), because what do you say about a song that it doesn't say itself? What an extraordinary act of arrogance to attach yourself to something someone made and try to explain it to anyone, however careful or empathetic you are in doing so, however many times you qualify your opinion. I imagine this anxiety probably lurks in some form, in some place, inside everyone who has tried to do this stupid, circuitous, fucking frustrating thing. People like to talk about things, though. It feels good to do, like a magic bridge that you can feel forming between yourself and someone else when they articulate something that was inside you too. I listened to this song non-stop for a week when it came out, and I barely know what to say about it. I think it's wonderful. Just listen to it. I feel very emotional thinking about Mitski and the path of her career in a way that makes me a bit embarrassed. I feel very emotional hearing her sing about the fundamental, indissoluble value of a feeling that she has, only holding it, not needing to clutch or cradle it, letting its light seep out from between her fingers. I find it so moving to hear someone who has -- largely unwillingly, it must be said -- become a symbol of self-pity and depressive angst sing with such easy generosity towards themselves. It's hard when you are so used to seeing a magic bridge between yourself and another person collapse, or perhaps when you rarely see it built at all, to reserve some dignity for the silly, hopeful part of yourself that keeps seeking out planning permission. Just listen to it. What an extraordinary act of arrogance to attach yourself to another person and think they could see you and think about you the way that you do them. Sometimes I don't think I know how to be in love. I'm going to keep trying anyway. [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[lovejustforaday]

2022 Year End List - #1

The Last Thing Left - Say Sue Me

Main Genres: Indie Rock

A decent sampling of: Twee Pop, Shoegaze, Surf Rock, Slowcore

I believe this to be my most unpopular choice for #1 yet. I didn’t see a whole lot of hype for this record, which is a shame because this is the best indie rock album I’ve heard to come out in years.

Say Sue Me are a Korean band from Busan, fronted by their gentle-voiced vocalist Sumi Choi (Get it? “Sue Me”). On previous records, the band unabashedly wore their shambling C86 indie era influences on their sleeves, with a prominent mix of jangle, twee, and surf rock married with lo-fi production and carefree songwriting.

Actually hey, now wait just a damn minute. Wasn't I talking about the same thing like two reviews ago?

Why yes, it was a very good year for twee/jangle/C86 revival bands like Alvvays AND Say Sue Me, well after this revival scene came and went out of fashion in the mid-2010s. And in both instances, what made their latest records exceed so well was how they managed to branched off from the original sound (in different directions) organically, while maintaining the songwriting sensibilities of the scene.

As I explained before, Alvvays went headfirst into shoegaze territory, with some electronic and psychedelic undertones.

Meanwhile, Say Sue Me looked inwards, incorporating elements of slowcore ("steadycore"?) and embracing a more serene and wistful atmosphere.

Don't get me wrong; there are still adorable, upbeat twee pop moments here, but even those feel laced with a small tinge of melancholy. This is likely due to the unfortunate passing between records of the band’s former drummer and childhood friend Seming Kang. The original bassist (also a childhood friend) quit the band soon after. In the aftermath, the reformed band created something beautiful and profound.

On their tertiary LP The Last Thing Left, Say Sue Me look to the past with softness and grief, while facing the present with a courageous and bittersweet sense of life’s preciousness. This is a comfort album in the truest sense, with humble, full-bodied guitars and mid-tempo drums creating breathtaking backdrops from rather straightforward compositions. A collection of musical Polaroids and sepia tone flashbacks to simpler times, already acting as an old friend upon first listen.

Opening with the slowcore instrumental rock of “The Memory of The Time”, the music crawls through a small tunnel in space-time, emerging in the middle of somewhere like an abandoned tree house full of memories, located in the dense woods next to your old childhood neighborhood.

The full band sound kicks in with “Still Here”, a soothing bar rock anthem that hugs the listener’s ears from every conceivable angle in an emphatic embrace of low-pitch guitars and patient drums. Sumi sings with warm, listless reflections on how she wants to move forward in her life, before churning out the final chorus with the softened, comfort-seeking angst of “And you say that everything is okaaaaaay...”. The delicately rippling lead guitar solo of the bridge is a signature feature of this record that appears on several other tracks, and it manages to do its trick effortlessly at tugging on my heartstrings every damn time.

“Around You” is the first of an album midsection consisting mostly of a few saccharine twee pop songs, ever so slightly shaded by a drape of nostalgia that’s holding back bittersweet tears. The joyous 2/4 time romp of this particular track immediately makes me think of dog parks and local seasonal festivals fit for family outings. Sincerity at its most cuddliest.

I feel confident in saying that “꿈에 To Dream” is the absolute peak of 2020s indie rock songs thus far. This ode to the afternoon turning into evening, implying the subtle death of childhood, is sung entirely in the band’s native Korean. But you don’t necessarily need to read the translated lyrics to feel the weight of its message. From the very first note, I am transported so vividly to those after-school days that I might as well be physically there, if only I close my eyes.

The guitars become the gentle blowing wind itself, carrying the sounds and the aromas of the days long gone, which brush up against your cheek to serve as a poignant reminder of the inevitable passage of time. Probably my favourite song of the year. As an aside, the music video is equally devastating.

“Photo of You” is an elegy of thumping heartbeats and reverberant shoegazey tones. Lyrically, it is the most precise reflection on grief of the entire album, as Sumi sings about the unbearable sensation of looking at photos and not wanting to “get used to” the feeling of someone being gone. The feeling of emotional sores not ready to be treated. Completely ruinous while still somehow holding on to the feelings of love and hope at its core.

Title track “The Last Thing Left” takes the band’s old surf rock sound through steady waves of uncertainty. Sumi’s delivery in the chorus is yearning in a way as if she were trying to seize that which cannot be eroded by the sands of time.

Say Sue Me send off the listener with “George & Janice”, a re-recorded tribute to the band’s married indie label managers. The song marches along with all the adorable triumph that a marching band of frogs and ducks might embody. It’s a very cute and funny little closer, somehow both characteristically and uncharacteristically light-hearted for a record that is so sweet but also incredibly heavy for a good portion of its runtime.

I’ll be fully honest; this one record resonated with me in a particularly heavy way this year, because I am at a time in my life when it’s really starting to feel like a lot of people have started going their separate ways. I feel like, part of being human, there’s sometimes this almost masochistic need to reflect on times when your life felt easier, or the world seemed kinder. I believe that this phenomenon is something that the band Say Sue Me understands on a very intimate level.

I’m not even exactly sure what it is that’s holding me back on giving this one a 10, other than it may simply be too soon for me to make that call. Sure, it’s not reinventing the wheel by any means, but the record does everything it's intended to do with stunning grace.

I don’t really know what else to say. This wasn’t exactly an easy record for me to do a write-up for, because it’s really hard for me to put into words what exactly this little indie rock record did that no other album did so well this year.

All I can really add to what I’ve already said is that I would recommend this album to almost anyone. The Last Thing Left is a beautiful statement on how everything changes in life, and its songs have become little playgrounds of emotional refuge that I will cherish for a long time. My (very) personal choice for album of the year.

9/10

Highlights: “꿈에 To Dream”, “Still Here”, “Photo Of You”, “The Memory Of The Time”, “George & Janice”, “Around You”, “The Last Thing Left”

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Rating Taylor Swift Albums By the Amount of Royai Songs On Them

Debut: 0/10 weak start come on Taylor you can do better

Fearless: 4/10 The Way I Loved You and Change work if you squint but we haven’t really gotten to the good stuff yet

Speak Now: 9/10 NOW WE’RE TALKING. My personal fave TS album and it gave us Mine. Haunted. Innocent. Long Live. Sparks Fly if you squint (I mean it has fire AND rain references so it counts). Also not Royai but Superman is SUCH an EdWin song I mean come on

Red: 6.5/10 The Royai songs on this album aren’t as iconic as some of the other ones but they’re still definitely there with some squintage (Sad Beautiful Tragic, The Last Time, Treacherous). Taylor’s Version improves strongly with the addition of Forever Winter which is very very very them also some lyrics in ATW 10 Minute though not the song as a whole

1989: 5/10 Not as strong as what’s to come but it DID give us I Know Places which is by far the most underrated song on the album and has Royai vibes out the WAZOO, you also have the bridge of Out of the Woods and Wonderland too if you squint

Reputation: 8.5/10 HECK YEAHHHH. This album gave us Dancing With Our Hands Tied. Call it What You Want. Don’t Blame Me. THE SONG THAT INSPIRED THE GREATEST ROYAI FIC OF ALL TIME. New Year’s Day doesn’t have a lot of basis in canon but it definitely fits fluffy fanfic Royai. I almost forgot Endgame bc I don’t care for the song musically so I never listen to it but the lyrics totally fit them

Lover: 7.5/10 This one deserves respect solely for giving us The Archer which began the long and esteemed tradition of Royai/Taylor Swift AMVs on my YouTube channel, Afterglow also works really well for Beyond the Inferno even though it’s one of the more mid songs on the album. Cornelia Street and Lover are really sweet with in-a-relationship post canon Royai, I also made a Royai/Edwin vid with ME! so that’s a thing

Folklore: 10/10 BABY THIS IS IT. THIS IS PEAK ROYAI VIBES. NOTHING ELSE WILL EVER TOP. Peace and Illicit Affairs are obviously two of the most iconic ones ever and no song will ever capture the tunnel scene better than Hoax, Cardigan spawned probably the best animatic/AMV in Royai history, Epiphany, This Is Me Trying, you could probably create some sort of scenario for almost all of the songs on this album really. There’s also ones like Exile and My Tears Ricochet that definitely have The Vibes but are too sad to think about because that would imply that they split up and my brain could not handle that. Anyways I feel like this was the album that really started the whole Royai/Taylor Swift craze and we must always respect

Evermore: 5/10 amazing amazing album but a somewhat disappointing followup to Folklore in terms of Royai Vibes, there’s several songs on here that have like, specific lines and moments that REALLY fit them or work for fanfic scenarios (Willow, Ivy, Tis the Damn Season), or Happiness which is a similar scenario to Exile and MTR on the previous album, but there’s no definitive iconic Royai song on here that captures them as a whole like a Peace, Innocent or The Archer

I worked so hard on this post plz don’t let it flop

[team-free-will-you-idjits-67]

Ain’t My Fault

DESCRIPTION: Who knew dancing could changed everything forever? 

CHARACTERS: Dean Winchester, Reader

RELATIONSHIP: Dean Winchester x Reader

WARNINGS: SMUTTTTTT. Like, hella smut.

WORD COUNT: 1880

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HEYYO! This was a request from the lovely @rileynicole1967. She wanted me to write a one shot based off Zara Larsson’s song “Ain’t My Fault”. Well, it’s pretty dirty and based off the lyrics, thats exactly how it was meant to be. I did use lyrics from the song and they will be bolded within the story! I hope you enjoy it! 

MASTERLIST / DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

The boys had left, Sam to go see Eileen and Dean to go for a long supply run, so you dragged your small bluetooth stereo system out into the library. Your hips swayed along with the quick beat of a song you barely knew, the few drinks you’d had before this certainly helping your rhythm as you danced between tables. 

Halfway through the song, your glass of whiskey was empty. You continued dancing over towards the small rolling bar that Dean made sure was fully stocked with hard liquor. You bit your lip as you poured your whiskey, the amber liquid sloshed around in the glass partly from your dancing but also from the buzz that was building in your head. 

Soon enough, the song changed and Led Zeppelin’s ‘Communication Breakdown’ started playing. You fell easily into the familiar beat, closing your eyes as you roamed through the library, bumping into the tables as you danced. You sang every word, knowing it from your long night drives with the boys after hunts. You didn’t hear when Dean returned sooner than you expected. The music was too loud to hear the bunker door shut, Dean’s boots stomp against the metal stairs and him pulling out a chair from the map room table. 

You turned around, stopping mid motion when you saw Dean, feet propped up on the table and sipping a beer slowly. His eyes sparkled with mischief as he chuckled and said, “Oh c’mon sweetheart, don’t stop the show. I just got settled in to enjoy it.” 

You smirked with a soft blush raising to your cheeks, “Oh really, Winchester?” You began swaying your hips to the music again as you walked down the steps to the other side of the map room table. You set your glass down onto the lit up bench, and closed the short distance between Dean and yourself with sensual movements. You pushed his feet off the table and spread his legs to dance up close and personal to the eldest Winchester. You could see Dean gulp hard as his eyes fixed themselves to your face, “How are you liking this show?” 

His eyes trailed down your body, an action that normally would have embarrassed you but the whiskey clouded brain you currently had made you more confident in your decisions, “Oh, sweetheart. I’m enjoying it more than you would know.” He sat back in his seat, digesting the new side of you he was seeing. 

He shifted in his seat, moving his legs and accidentally tripping you. You fell into his lap and giggled, “You just made me trip, fall, and land on your lap.” 

Dean bit his lip softly and smiled, “See, you’re too irresistible to not be in my lap.” 

You repositioned yourself to face him and pushed your chest into his as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “Oh really, Winchester?” 

He eyed your lips, “Yeah, that’s for sure.” 

Crimson embarrassment quickly flooded to your cheeks as you debated giving in to the sexual tension that had been building between you two for months or ending this before it went too far. You looked down at his plump, luscious lips and decided, “Please don’t blame me for what ever happens next,” and dipped to connect your lips with his. 

You could tell he was surprised at first but soon his lips moved along with yours, getting hungrier for more the longer you kissed. You both grabbed at each other, pulling off layers of flannel before Dean wrapped his arms around your torso tightly and he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked through the bunker, feeling his erection grow with the increased pressure. 

He rounded the corner of his bedroom and kicked the door closed before throwing you on to his bed. You giggled as you bounced against the mattress but soon quieted as you saw Dean’s expression. His eyes were dark and shadowed with lust, his bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he inched his way towards you. 

Dean crawled up the bed and laid down beside you, caressing your cheek as his eyes darted between your y/e/c eyes and rosy, kiss swollen lips. It was almost like he was giving you the chance to back out, but with the effects of the whiskey fading, you realized you’d wanted this for awhile, you just never had the courage to give in to temptation. You pulled at his dark gray t-shirt, bringing him closer to you. Smiling, you looked at his lips and then leaned in. You melted into each other as you kissed, limbs entangled together, clothes grabbed and pulled, and soon enough you both laid in your underwear beside each other. 

You shifted, getting on top of Dean without breaking the kiss. Running your hands down his arms, you intertwined your fingers with his, pulling his hands above his head as your ground down onto his clothed member. Arousal pooled within your panties, soaking through the thin cotton as you continued your ministrations. 

Dean pulled his hands away from yours and wrapped them around you back. His fingers slipped around your bra band with ease and tugged at the clasps, undoing it quickly before removing it in one swift motion, all while never breaking your kiss. Your nipples hardened against the cool air now surrounding them, shifting Dean’s focus towards them as he felt them brush against his chest. 

His lips strayed from yours as he kissed down your neck to your chest. He took his time as he brushed his lips against your left breast before taking your nipple into his mouth softly. His tongue grazed against the soft, pink, bud as his fingers pulled at the opposite hardened peak. You arched your back from his touch, pushing your chest further into his face and hand. You ground your clothed core onto his erection once more, causing Dean to growl against you. Your smirk from his reaction quickly turned into a gasp as he nipped at your nipple and then flipped you onto your back. 

“You aren’t going to tease me anymore like that, babygirl.” He rutted himself against you with a smirk as you squirmed beneath him. “It’s your turn now.” 

You whimpered, “Oh c’mon Dean, I wasn’t teasing that bad.” 

He let out one, deep chuckle, “Doesn’t matter.” He made his way down your body, kissing your silky skin between every word, “What. You. Do. To. Me. Gets. Done. Twice. As. Bad. To. You,” before he settled between your legs. You squirmed, causing him to laugh quietly to himself, “Get ready, babygirl.” 

Dean kissed your thighs, giving attention to every paled scar, yellowing bruise, and bump from broken bones from hunting. Giving no attention to the area that you wanted him to. Arousal continued to pool and soak through your panties, which Dean soon noticed and bit his lip towards. “Damn, Y/N. Soaking already?” He ran a finger around the band of your panties with a smug grin, “I’ve barely touched you.” You shot daggers at him briefly for the comment but they went unnoticed. 

He slipped another finger through the waistband and slowly pulled your panties down your legs before throwing the wet fabric across the room, Dean’s focus followed your underwear until they landed on his desk. When his focus shifted back to you, he groaned when he saw your clit glistening below him. 

You blushed at his reaction and looked towards the ceiling to try and conceal your slight embarrassment, but Dean’s fingers grazing your slit made you look down towards him. He took his time, ignoring the arousal swollen bud that was in his face, tracing your entrance with his finger and gathering your slick on the tip. He turned his finger slowly, looking at the light bounce off his arousal covered finger. Plunging the finger into his mouth he closed his eyes and sighed, “Mmm, don’t you taste good.” 

You squirmed once again, “Dean, please.” 

He bit his lip as he looked up towards your face from between your legs, “Please what?” 

You growled in frustration. “You know what I wan-,” you cut yourself off with a gasp when Dean dipped his head and wrapped his lips around your clit. He sucked and licked at the nub slowly, as his fingers entered you lazily, both his mouth and fingers worked in unison to bring you towards your climax quickly.

You moaned beneath him, grabbing at the sheets as you felt the slow burn in your belly turn into a raging wildfire. “Dean,” you gasped out.

His mouth left your clit for a second so he could praise you, “That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for me, Y/N.” Dean’s lips wrapped around the bud once more as he worked his fingers slightly faster, waiting for you to come undone beneath him. 

“Fuck!” You moaned as you pulled at the sheets, your orgasm washing over you rapidly. Dean removed his fingers and swept his tongue through your slick, taking one last taste before he got off the bed to remove his boxers. You stifled a gasp as you watched his member bounce in the air from his waistband catching, the length and girth better than you imagined. 

He climbed back into the bed quickly and settled between your legs once more to line himself up with your entrance. His tongue peaked out between his teeth as he pushed into you slowly, both of you groaned until he was fully sheathed inside you, fitting perfectly. “Fuck,” he chuckled out. “Better than I imagined.” 

You giggled, “I could say the same to you.” 

Dean grinned and then began thrusting gradually falling into the perfect rhythm. The tip of his cock rubbed against your g-spot perfectly. Your fingers dug into his back, your nails leaving red trails down his bronzed skin, as another orgasm snuck up on you. You clenched around Dean as you came down from your high. Secondary waves washed over you, causing you to contract around him periodically, bringing him to his climax rapidly. His thrusts began to falter before he came with a grunt. 

He fell onto the bed at your side and pulled you towards him, kissing the top of your head as you shifted in his arms to lay your head against his chest. “Well,” he snickered, “That was something that I never thought would happen.” 

You buried your face into his chest with a giggle, “I told you not to blame me for what happened next.” 

He pulled away slightly and slid his hand beneath your chin to pull your face up to look towards his. “I would never blame you for this.” He looked into your eyes and placed a soft kiss to your lips, “This was something that I wanted, hell, I think we both wanted to happen for a while.” His eyes crinkled in the corners as a small smile crept onto his face before he pulled you into his chest, “This should have happened sooner.”

You sighed as you wrapped an arm around his waist, “It definitely should have.” 

It didn’t take long for you both to fall asleep within each other's arms for the first time of many to come. 

TAGLIST: 

FOREVER TAGS:

@emoryhemsworth , @nanie5 , @gabrielslittleangel, @alexwinchester23 , @witch-of-letters , @caswinchester2000 , @justawaywardwinchester , @thehufflepuffblog , @missihart23 , @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting, @mogaruke, @supernaturalsammy01, @heyitscam99, @hobby27, @frozenhuntress67, @duskany, @mazie87 , @tumbler-tidbits , @mersuperwholocked-lowlife, @asfanfiction , @emilyshurley , @zephyrie , @ghostshadow1312 , @wholockmerlinlover, @singers-auto, @lokilove3112, @teddybeardoctorr, @sleepylunarwolf, @negans-lucille-tblr

DEAN/JENSEN X READER TAGS:

@xxtheoutsidersxx, @betsy-bradock, @adoptdontshoppets, @dean-winchesters-bacon , @jerkbitchidjitassbutt, @smoothdogsgirl

[happymetalgirl]

Album Chronology - Death

The whole ranking-albums-from-worst-to-best has been done to death to the point of staleness at this point, but mostly due to the format, at least to me. I’ve read so many damn worst-to-best lists at this point that they’re all kind of predictable even when they’re seemingly trying to force some kind of novelty or surprise factor by putting a fan-favorite or highly revered album really low in a ranked list. It’s all gotten pretty dry at this point, plus, to me, I can’t help but see a little bit of futility in compiling lists for active artists whose next release will render such a list so quickly obsolete. I honestly had the idea of doing something tier-related to make it less rigid a year or so ago, but lo and behold, tier-list videos are the newest horse getting beaten to death. So rather than jumping around an artist’s catalog and tossing in some spicy hot takes, I figured why not take the chronological approach and trace the story of the artist’s creative trajectory, and not spoil the #1 spot by revealing the #2 spot.

So why do these kinds of lists? Also, why Death?

I make this little chronology to offer my insight into Death’s discography partly for the reason so many others have made similar rankings: to appreciate Death’s music and the huge legacy Chuck Schuldiner left through it. But I also make this because I do think my perspective on Death is a somewhat unique one, at least among Death fans. Chuck Schuldiner was an incredibly talented musician and a beloved figure within the world of metal, and that aspect of his legacy has undoubtedly been enhanced by the untimeliness and unfairness of his passing. The guy certainly had a strong presence on the stage and a certain charisma off of it, and his cherishing of animals surely resonates with me as well. Death was also hardly my first death metal band, so I do think that gives me a bit less of a nostalgic perspective on their legacy. I still enjoy a lot of the same things about Death that most fans do, and at the end of this list, it might not really end up being all that shocking or controversial, just a slightly tempered version of what most fans would make. I’m pretty long-winded, so I’ll cut the intro and get into the music: Death.

1987 - Scream Bloody Gore

I have to reinforce my position right from the get-go about having a more measured view of the band’s catalog because the spicy takes come right out of the gate with Death’s debut album, Scream Bloody Gore. The sour really isn’t all that sour and it comes with a little bit of sweet right afterward too: I think this is Death’s worst album. But that just means it only gets better from here, and I do still really like it. It’s a classic in its own right that started Death on a more solid footing than the average debut project in very new territory at the time and I again do genuinely still like it a lot; I own it, along with the rest of the band’s catalog, on vinyl. But it is, as I mentioned, a first step into new territory, and rather naturally primordial, which indeed has its own appeal in the context of the era it came from and for which it deserves tremendous appreciation. There is indeed a lot to appreciate here. I love the persistence of the bass line in the title track, the hooks of songs like “Zombie Ritual” and “Baptized in Blood”, and the amped up Slayer-inspired extremification of thrash metal that would only snowball further as the band and the genre they helped pioneer progressed. But the primary role Scream Bloody Gore served was to lay the groundwork for Death to expand upon in that early era that would itself later become the groundwork for their more ambitious progressive tilt during the second half of their career. I’ll throw it out right here just to get it outbid then way, it’s not exactly a hot take, but some Death fans are partial the other way; it’s probably already evident, but I prefer the band’s second era from Human to Perseverance. Personally I think bands like Morbid Angel and Cannibal Corspe were more suited to this primal gory form of early death metal, and I think Death would have wound up being seen as merely a pretty good band in a tier below those guys if they had stuck with what they were doing with their debut and the two albums that followed for the rest of their career. Again, Scream Bloody Gore is by no means a bad album, or even a rough start, kind of a Kill ‘em All sort of debut that laid solid foundations and allowed for greatness to follow but indeed stands well enough on its own.

7/10

1988 - Leprosy

The band’s sophomore release just a year later showed immediate signs of improvement. The trimmed track list with more meticulously groomed songs (and a greater density of sick riffs) produced several live staples for the band, like the title track, “Left to Die”, and especially the ever-traditional concert-closer “Pull the Plug”. But there was more than just better riffs and more focus on perfecting the songs here. The production on Leprosy was clearer than the band’s debut the year before, and the writing was generally more sophisticated too, incorporating a bit more flashy technicality that would soon escalate to an echelon that would end up characterizing their sound more comprehensively. Soon-to-be vestigial characteristics of the debut album still remained: tons of wailing Slayer-sequence guitar solos, thrashy blast beats, the focus of palm-muted tremolo riffing, and more fantastical, brutal lyricism. But Leprosy presented these more mid-brow elements in a more impressive arrangement than its predecessor.

8/10

1990 - Spiritual Healing

My personal favorite of the band’s grittier first half of their career, Spiritual Healing was really just a more consistent continuation (to my ears at least) of the refined early death metal sound of Leprosy. The band were starting to develop a more signature style of riffing, as well as soloing that they would take with them into their next four albums. By now most of the gory detail was taking the backseat to Schuldiner’s psychological analysis of certain “Defensive Personalities”, parasitic religious manipulation by televangelists, and prenatal cocaine exposure. The more high-mindedness of Spiritual Healing also ushered in another ramp up in the band’s technicality that made the progression into the heady technical death metal of Human a rather natural one. The band’s last album in their so-called “traditional” or “brutal” or “classic” death metal era played around a lot more with the dynamic range of the genre and it really ran the gamut of what Death had done up to that point within that style of death metal and beyond, the title track being my personal favorite example of this ability the band had to contort the genre to fit their more expansive needs while keeping everything in the confines of death metal. It’s my favorite song on the album and of this era of Death’s career. At this point, Death had pretty robustly demonstrated their ability with the genre in its more primitive form, and evolved it along the way quite a lot at that, to the point where they really had nothing more they had to say with the style, an impressive feat after three albums. Sure they could have probably spun their tires in the mud for a few more albums (knowing now that Chuck Schuldiner sadly only had a little more than a decade left), but the direction this album had the band heading in was pretty apparent. The only question was if the band would take the leap into the upper echelons of technicality and explore the new frontier that they were headed toward. Thankfully for us, the band had plenty of ambition left in them. As for the last album of their first half of their career, it’s hard to find many complaints with, and one that capped off this era of Death in complimentary fashion.

9/10

1991 - Human

After reaching their peak with bruntly aggessive death metal, Death’s fourth album began a second act for the band, one that sought to elevate their style to a more progressive form of death metal. It was a change that was pretty strongly indicated by the direction the band had been heading in and the step up in technicality on Spiritual Healing. Human takes the solos and the fast-paced guitar passages and bass lines to new extremes that the genre had never seen before, and the lyrical shift to more heady, cerebral, existential themes fit well with the significantly increased musical complexity that the album introduced. The technically dazzling yet infectious riffing of “Together as One” and “Flattening of Emotions”, the still-tasty hooks of the former and “Suicide Machine”, and the tasty percussive rhythm of “Lack of Comprehension” made those songs live staples. The band were still kind of finding their footing with the compositional aspects of this new realm, but the grounding in the aggression of their previous work with the voyage into the techy unknown was a good thing to start with and a good way to explore some new sonic territory while safely tethered to what was effective for them previously that produced some pretty impressive results.

8/10

1993 - Individual Thought Patterns

Carrying forward the ambition for significantly increased technicality that began with Human on to their fifth album, Death were still getting the hang of things with Individual Thought Patterns, which isn’t all to surprising or something to impugn the band for given the difficulty mode that had selected to play the creative game on, and the band still made some significant improvements with the integration of the hyperspeed technicality into their sound. Even more than the subsequent Symbolic, Individual Thought Patterns made the technicality so much more of a focus where, to me, this was Death’s first bonafide technical death album. Human was definitely pretty technical, but on Individual Thought Patterns, Death cut the cord and let themselves float off into the dizzying cosmos of instrumental technicality and tailored their compositional practices to fit that need. If there was any contingent of fans struggling to keep up with Death’s progression or hoping for a scale-back to the more brutish early albums, they were left behind with Individual Thought Patterns, save perhaps for the consolation of more traditionally groovy closing track, “The Philosopher”, but rampant speed-fests like “Overactive Imagination” and odd-timed melodic groovers like “Trapped in a Corner” quickly became fan favorites. If there’s one thing Individual Thought Patterns lacked, it was balance, but that wasn’t going to be a problem for very long...

8/10

1995 - Symbolic

Ah, Symbolic, there’s not gonna be any surprising bucking of the trend or “bold” underrating here. In a catalog that so many fans regard as perfect, Symbolic stands out as the most common fan favorite, and for good reason. The album synthesized everything that had made Death such a force to be reckoned with in the death metal world. Weaving together the early era’s delicious primal grooves, the elevated technicality that had become a solidified facet of the band’s style, and their newly blossoming progressive inclinations, Symbolic remains the band’s most comprehensively representative and accomplished work, the best place for any newcomer to the legendary act to start, and the best album in their acclaimed discography. The song-writing is tight and interesting from start to finish, seasoned with both tasty riffs and captivating displays of technicality that enhanced the songs rather than the players’ appetites for indulgence, and kept consistently interesting with frequent tasteful dynamic shifts and surprising twists and turns. I would undoubtedly go on forever if I were to detail the brilliance of every song on here, the majestic melodies and winding structure of “Crystal Mountain”, the catchy commentary on mass surveillance of “1,000 Eyes”, the invigorating double-bass of “Misanthrope”, and the iconic riffing of the opening title track. Instead I’ll quickly highlight two songs that seem to go unnoticed that I find particularly beautiful for the unexpected compositional moves Death makes on them. The first is the song, “Without Judgement”, which abruptly drops its techdeath winding to hypnotize with a gorgeous and emotive melodic solo that seems rather uncharacteristic for Death that I just love, and the second is the closing track, “Perennial Quest”. It’s the longest song in the band’s discography up to this point, only to be just marginally eclipsed by “Flesh and the Power It Holds” on the subsequent album, and it embarks on a similarly proggy and melodic odessey to that of “Crystal Mountain”, but it’s the somber and mournful electric/acoustic outro that would soon become all too tragic for Death fans to listen to that concludes the album on such a heartfelt note in such beautifully fitting fashion. There’s no other moment like it in Death’s catalog, and it’s always a solemn, conclusive reminder of just how much light Chuck Schuldiner and Death brought to this world and how lucky we are to have albums like this. I’ll end my sentimental bit here and conclude by briefly summing up my thoughts on the album. Symbolic is Death’s magnum opus and a masterpiece among masterpieces that captures nearly everything that makes Death and death metal appealing and that had made the genre so predominant for decades since, and beyond being their best, to me, it is a perfect album.

10/10

1998 - The Sound of Perseverance

Death’s final album seemed to set them on yet another new musical course after the second run through the steady improvement over the course of a three-album cycle. The longest album of the band’s seven and including the longest songs in their catalog on average, The Sound of Perseverance took Death on quite the progressive joyride, and surprisingly (to me at least) it kind of split and confused some fans who had just gotten used to the band’s digestible technicality on Symbolic. Granted, I was just a little baby bitch boy when this came out, but personally I don’t see why this was such a shock to the system for so many fans (apparently), the band had always been pretty ambitious and this was a pretty logical next step for them to expand their continually expanding sound. The structures on the band’s seventh album are less conventional and more packed with extensive technical passages, and the band do pull out a good few more surprises than they ever did in any album previously, like the acoustic/electric guitar-solo instrumental “Voice of the Soul”. But The Sound of Perseverance is by no means any kind of contrived over-indulgence in ideas grander than what the band could accomplish or frothy wank-fest. The band was already developing a bit of a progressive bend in the previous three-album arc and they simply took it to the next level the same way they did with their instrumental technicality on Human. And fans did indeed vibe with plenty of songs on The Sound of Perseverance, with the impressively vocally high soaring “Spirit Crusher”, the angular and unpredictable “Scavenger of Human Sorrow, and even the lengthy, and indeed structurally confounding, prog-techdeath monolith “Flesh and the Power It Holds” making their way into the band’s setlists on their last tours. And of course the album ends on the well-earned, fun, high-octane cover of Judas Priest’s “Painkiller”, which finds Schuldiner incredibly nailing the songs high melody with his high-pitched death shrieking style (and finishing with never-before-heard clean vocals). For the reputation it has for eschewing balance for high-minded progness, The Sound of Perseverance is by no means a hard pivot from or unrecognizable from Symbolic. Its bold expounding upon aspects of their sound that already seemed pretty evolved while remaining musically engaging and not sacrificing what made their previous work appealing, and sheer magnitude and impressiveness of the band’s third venture into new territory again do sometimes make me question whether I like it more than Symbolic. While it did seem to pave the way for another new mind-blowing era of Death that death took away from us, The Sound of Perseverance has become a glorious and aptly titled swan song and a testament to the band’s and Schuldiner’s relentless ambition and, indeed, genius. Eternal cheers to Chuck and to Death.

9/10

And that’s it, eleven years and seven albums that continually revolutionized death metal and paved the way for so much of what we hear today. Anyone reading this of course probably knows most of all of this, but it’s still astonishing to think about how much Death did for the genre in such a relatively short time, and, for me at least, even having already been a pretty big fan of Death, listening to these albums from Scream Bloody Gore to The Sound of Perseverance, it reminded me more viscerally of the quality of the music and respected legacy of the band that I have always intellectually acknowledged and agreed with, which I figured I’d share here. If, somehow, you’ve come across this and you’re not into Death or death metal but you’re open to it and interested, you’re in for a treat. Put on Symbolic and just enjoy the trip down the rabbit hole.

[delusionalwriterr]

Under Your Spell

Pairing: Gryffindor!Peter Parker x Ravenclaw!Reader

Summary: It was Muggle Appreciation Night at Hogwarts and Peter just can’t stop staring at you.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none, just absolute fluff

A/N: This was in my requests for a loooong time now, but I hope you still enjoy it! Here’s the songs that were mentioned:

Promt List | Masterlist

Peter stared at himself intently as he stood in front of the mirror, trying to button his dress shirt. “Dude, hurry up. The party’s about to start,” Harry Osborn, remarked as his head peaked through Peter’s bedroom door. Peter nodded and told him that he’d be out soon. Tonight was Muggle Appreciation Night where Hogwarts dedicates a night to its Muggle-born students and staff in the spirit of unity and solidarity. Peter wasn’t a Muggle-born himself, but he’s a huge fan of their culture and the people itself considering the fact that he has a Muggle-born girlfriend.

Peter took one last look at himself in the mirror before stepping out of his room to find Harry leaning against the wall on the other side, waiting for him. Once Harry noticed he had finally emerged from his room, he did a double take before letting out a low whistle. Peter was wearing black dress shirt paired with black trousers that were accessorized by the red and brown tie on his neck. “I don’t think we need food anymore because Mr. Parker’s looking like a whole damn buffet table over here!” Harry bellowed along the dorms, causing a few people to look at them. Peter snickered and tugged Harry all the way out to the hallway as they headed to the Great Hall.

Peter smoothed his trousers with his clammy hands as he and Harry ventured to where the party was being held. His heart beating faster by the minute as he continued to think about seeing you all dolled up and pretty for the party. Not that you weren’t pretty in the first place, Peter found you breathtakingly gorgeous— he worships you. In his eyes you were like Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Peter only learned about her when you told him about a book that’s about something called Greek Mythology. Something along the lines of Mercy Clarkson? He couldn’t exactly remember.

He and Harry entered the Great Hall only to find the students, especially the Muggle-borns already on the dance floor, jamming to some pop song that the DJ was playing. “I’m gonna go get us something to drink, you go find (Y/N),” Harry shouted in his ear, voice almost completely drowned out by the booming music. Peter only nodded in reply as his eyes scanned over the crowd, desperate to find you. His eyes first landed on the dance floor, knowing how much you love your Muggle music, but you weren’t there. Next he looked for you in the food station, but you weren’t there either. His eyes finally landed on you where you sat with Michelle Jones in one of the tables, happily sipping your drink.

Peter took a second to admire you in your outfit: you were wearing trousers too, only they were a light beige in contrast with Peter’s black ones. As a top you were wearing a white mesh blouse as you kept your hair down. Peter figured you wouldn’t wear a dress tonight, mainly because dresses wouldn’t give you enough leverage to absolutely wreck the dance floor with your “sick moves” as you would put it. The thought of the dance floor and the sight of the students crowding it made him curious. Why weren’t you dancing yet?

With excited strides, he made his way towards you and MJ, who caught sight of him and waved him over, making you turn around to meet his eyes. Peter felt his heart flutter as his eyes locked with yours, a tiny sparkle in them. “Hey, angel,” Peter greeted as you stood up to wrap him in an embrace and place a feathery kiss on his cheek. “You look stunning,” he grinned as he pulled away to get a better look at you. He chuckled as he saw your cheeks flush before you placed your hands on his arms, admiring his outfit as well. “I could say the same to you, handsome. You’re looking extra yummy today,” you remarked and now it was Peter’s turn to blush, causing you and MJ to snicker.

Just then Harry approached the three of you, two drinks in his hands, “I got the booze!” he exclaimed, handing Peter a cup before taking a sip. Peter mirrored his actions only to scowl once he tasted the reddish liquid. “What the hell is in this?” Peter questioned his friend, who was busy downing his drink. “I have no clue,” Harry replied, causing all of you to chuckle. “Why aren’t you busting your asses on the dance floor yet?” Harry asked, noticing you and MJ as he and Peter took seats next to you. “Oh, we’re just saving our energy,” MJ replied, taking a sip from her drink. “We wouldn’t wanna be too tired to dance when they start playing One Direction,” you added as Peter put an arm around your shoulders. Harry threw you a perplexed look, “What’s One Direction?” he asked, causing you and MJ to snap your heads towards his direction (haha), feigning shock. “You don’t know One Direction?” MJ asked, faking a gasp as you bursted out laughing. You were grateful to have MJ as your best friend so that you can have another Muggle-born to vent out your thoughts about the Muggle world.

Just as Harry was about to say something, a song that Peter didn’t seem to recognize started to play that made you and MJ squeal in delight. “Right on cue!” MJ exclaimed as she pulled you from your chair mid-sip from your drink. You shot Peter an apologetic look as you are dragged to the dance floor. Peter and Harry stayed by the tables as they watched you jam out to the song. It had a hint of rock, but still passed as a pop song as the voices of the boyband echoed in Peter’s ears. He smiled as he watched you along with other Muggle-borns shout the lyrics to the song from the top of your lungs. “Midnight memories!” you all chanted as Peter found himself nodding along to the melody. He took a good look at you. Your hair was getting slightly tousled as you jumped around, still screaming the lyrics to the song. Your eyes had a shimmer in them, something similar to when someone brings up something about your world. Peter felt his chest constrict as he heard you giggle at MJ who was trying to belt out a high note. You looked beautiful, you looked happy, and Peter was glad he had front row seats to it.

The song ended then another one played, making you and MJ shriek again. This was a much slower song compared to the one previous to it. Instead of electric guitars and loud drums, this was more quiet, with the sound of the acoustic guitar. Peter was still in a daze before he noticed that you were approaching him, reaching out for his hand. “Dance with me,” you said. He looked at you again. You were practically shimmering due to the party lights reflecting on the little rhinestones embedded in your mesh top and your eyes still had that glint to them. Peter smiled as he gladly took your hand in his and guided you back to the dance floor.

“We were just kids when we fell in love,”

“What song is this?” Peter asked as he intertwined his fingers with yours and placed his other hand on your waist. “Just some overplayed song from 2017,” you replied, resting your head on his chest. “It has a good tune to it,” Peter mumbled and you only hummed in reply as you both swayed to the music. Peter closed his eyes as he focused on the scent of your shampoo and the feeling of having you in his arms.

“You know I love you right?” he piped up, making you lift your head from his chest to look him in the eyes. They were full of adoration and love that you could feel your body turn into mush as your heart melted. You smiled at him and he smiled back. You rested your head against his chest again before mumbling, “And I love you.”

Peter grinned at this before placing a kiss on the top of your head as you continued to rock back and forth, enjoying the song. You’ve been dating for only a few months, but he was absolutely captivated by you. He found you so intriguing and so complex that all he wanted to do was stay by your side all day just to see every aspect of you and your personality. He was enchanted, he was entranced by you. It’s almost as if you had him under your spell, and he isn’t planning on breaking out of it anytime soon.

Just then, the song finished and the once calming melody was replaced by another rock tune. Peter saw your head snap towards MJ’s direction who was already looking at you to begin with. Peter chuckled before pushing you towards her as you sang the lyrics.

“Somebody once told me the world was gonna roll me. I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed!”

A/N: Requests are open!

[renaxwrites]

Eleven

.06 -  Fool’s Gold

synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.

pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader

warnings: none!

masterlist: here :)

a/n: hey y’all! I’m so happy I finally found the time to write the new chapter 😩 college is busy but it izzz what it izzz. also I felt the lyrics for this one were perfect, cause *lol* crows a ha ;) hope you enjoy <3

previous || next

I’m like a crow on a wire. You’re the shining distraction that makes me fly home.

“What the hell is so damn funny? Enlighten me before I make myself go deaf on purpose.”

You and Yachi were giggling for the past five minutes about something that had happened earlier in class.

Face flustered and trying to keep a still face, you turn and sputter out, “Damn, Tsukishima, is- is it a crime pfft to lau- I’m so sorry I can’t even talk to you right now.” You barely get the last of your sentences out as you burst into giggles again.

Tsukishima is just watching you. He’s not even sure how to react. He isn’t even aware that he was staring until Hinata comes up, flicks his head between you two, and states, “Tsukishima, just take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Tsukishima blushes furiously from getting caught, then mutters something about taking a picture of Hinata in his grave.

All of you were in good spirits, with it being the day of the Harvest Moon Festival. Ukai even ended practice early, to allow everyone the time to prepare for the festivities. Although, he had to lightly threaten Hinata and Kageyama if he found out they used the gym outside of practice.

Mizuki encouraged Yachi to get ready with you at the house, hoping to hearten up the girl-bonding the three of you had. She got off of work early to help you two get ready, and it truly was a wholesome experience.

After several hours (or several years to Tsukishima), you and Yachi were all dressed and ready to go. She brings out a mirror so the two of you can inspect your looks.

“You girls look so lovely,” Mizuki gushes.

Let the squealing commence!

“YACHIIII! You’re glowing in that color! Do a spin for me girlie!!”

“Y/NNNN! You’re the one that’s glowing!! I swear, I can already hear all the boys breaking their necks to peek at you!!”

Mizuki had been watching all three of you, so she was a little surprised at her son’s sudden intense blush after the “boys checking out y/n” comment. She definitely took a mental note of that.

Suddenly, a knock at the door captured all of your attention.

Mizuki clasps her hand. “Alright! Kei, watch over these two lovely ladies! Be careful and have fun!” She bids you all goodbye with a hug.

You open the door to find Yamaguchi, Hinata, and Kageyama bouncing from excitement.

“We invited these idiots too? Well, I’m out,” Tsukishima turns to walk back inside, but before he could, you lightly grab his wrist, causing him to abruptly stop. You feel his warmth and swear there’s a light spark.

“Tsukishima, please? It’s my first time anyway, and I want to experience it with everyone! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

He already felt somewhat weak around you, so how could he say no to your puppy-sad eyes? No one with sanity could resist those.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Everyone collectively sighs a breath of relief.

“We’re going to meet the senpais at the festival ground, so let’s gooo!” Hinata announces as you all make your way to the main event.

The main town square was overflowing with festive decorations, painting every nook and cranny. It was just before sunset, so the glow of the lowering sun drowned the atmosphere in golden haze. Pampas grass, blush clovers and autumnal flowers littered windows, adding an extra pop of color. There were people dancing in joyous manner, others feasting on mid-autumn treats, and extra citizens strolling around enjoying the festivities.

Your group had barely walked into the entrance when you were cheerily greeted by 6 more individuals.

“OI! First-years! Your senpais are over here!” Tanaka and Nishinoya belted out to capture your groups’ attention. Soon, you feel engulfed in several hugs from your senpais. Even you and Yachi spent a few minutes with Kiyoko on complimenting each other, who looked like a gem with her deep violet theme.

Time began to fly by, with you and the team happily making your way around the festival, participating in all the activities offered. At some point, there was a dance ritual, and Kiyoko took you and Yachi by surprise by dragging you out to dance. The three of you danced without a care in the world, not even noticing how you were being watched in awe by the rest of the team. All but the first year boys are quick to join, who stand idly on the side, not sure what to do.

Mid-twirl, you notice the four awkward boys playing ‘wallflower’, so you mention it to Yachi, and within that second you two stride up to them. She grabs Tobio and Hinata’s wrists, while you clasp onto Tadashi and Tsukishima’s.

“There is no way we’re letting you stand there like some awkward ass trees. Come dance with us, at least for a little bit!” You didn’t wait for a response as you dragged them out into the square. You let go and slide into the rhythm of the native dance, while the boys awkwardly try to follow. You take a turn helping each of them, and although it was pretty much a lost cause, you all still had a load of fun either way.

Once the period of dancing was over, you and the team made your way over to the food stands. The closer you got, the more engulfed you were in the endless delicious scents. There were heavier servings, such bottomless amounts of dango (white dumplings of rice), tsukimi burgers, and lots of dishes with eggs. Fall fruits and vegetables were also present, such as kuri (chestnuts), kabocha (pumpkin), persimmons, Japanese sweet potatoes, taro, grapes, and pears.

The boys ate a portion from each stand, their appetite never seeming to end. However, you had a hard time deciding which one to choose, so you, Yachi and Kiyoko settled and shared a bit from each. To help the digestion, you made your way to make your harvest offerings.

Each member made line at the temple to make their offering, but Tsukishima sensed your hesitation.

“Don’t know how to do it? I thought you knew everything, you nerd.”

You look up and laugh in slight embarrassment. “I do, it’s just been a while, I guess. Brings back a couple memories, that’s all.”

To be lightly petty, you cut him in line. To your surprise, he doesn’t make a sarcastic comment, so you leave it alone.

The reason why he didn’t was so he could have the privilege to watch you. To see you bask in the soft glow of the candlelight, with wisps of the incense swirling around your face. To feel his own fascination in seeing stillness in your features, for just a moment.

By the time every member had made their offering, it was dark, meaning the moon viewing was about to start.

The moon was shining its brightest at the highest peak in the sky. All of those attending had gathered to surround the main area for the viewing, to get the best view of the moon. Music was softly playing, setting a serene tone.

You and the team had huddled together in awe. But for some reason, something seemed amiss. You turn to each of your friends, only to find one missing.

Tsukishima.

Whispering to Yachi, you set off in search to find him. It shouldn’t be too hard, considering almost everyone was being entranced by the moon. Plus, he’s, you know, pretty tall.

You feel it’s best to retrace your steps. And right you were!

You find Tsukishima purchasing an item, and get the bright idea of trying to sneak behind him. Somehow thinking you were going to be able to scare him. However, you failed two steps in.

He turns around and you two barely missing collision, almost dropping the small bowl in his hand.

“Tsk tsk. Your stalking almost wasted my money, y/n.”

Still catching your breath, you glare up at him. “Well sheesh, not my fault you snuck off.”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Excuse me for going out of my way to be generous, never again I suppose.”

Tilting your head, you ask, “What do you mean?”

He suddenly turns bashful. Thank goodness it was dark enough to mask the pink now flooding his cheeks.

“Well, I saw you practically drooling for these earlier, so...” his voice trails off. He looks in the opposite direction as he puts the bowl out for you to take. You glance down in curiosity. Inside were four little mochi balls in the shape of rabbits.

You feel a bit of blush on your cheeks, and you bring him back down to earth as you say, “You got this for me?”

“It’s either that or hear whining when we get back. I’d rather spend a couple yen for silence to be honest,” he shrugs.

You laugh and playfully push his shoulder with yours. “I’m not that whiny. You swear. Anyway, let’s head back, the moon viewing has already started.”

You begin to walk back to your friends when you feel a gentle tug on your wrist. Turning, you see Tsukishima with his iconic smirk, along with a mysterious, playful glint in his eyes.

“Actually, I have a better spot in mind.”

He leads you back towards the temple, which then branches off to a smaller , more hidden path. Eventually, the two of you are peering over a quaint koi pond, surrounded by lush plant life. Your eyes full of wonder, all while glowing in the moonlight.

Tsukishima has never seen anything so beautiful.

You hardly notice his intense staring as you look up in awe and ponder, “How do you know about this place? It’s gorgeous!”

He breaks his gaze to stare up at the moon above. “This is the one place I have to myself. The one place I can run and hide whenever I needed to. It was just me, and no one else. But...it feels right to share it right now.”

You feel both honored and mesmerized by this moment. To make it sweeter, you open your box and hand a mochi to Tsukishima. “Cheers.”

He silently accepts your mochi and doesn’t object when you clink your rabbit against his, like a teacup. The two of you munch the treat, then continue to revel in the comfortable silence.

After a while, you hear faraway bustles of people, indicating that the viewing was finishing up. “I hate to leave, but it seems like we’re almost done,” you admit forlornly as you pick up your bowl.

Tsukishima is quick to notice a few strands fall from your face, so he takes this opening to lift your chin and tuck them behind your ear.

Your breath hitches.

“You know, I’m sure many boys probably broke their necks today. That color looks good on you.”

You realize this is a response to Yachi’s comment from earlier, and are not even sure how to react. Especially not when he’s super close to you right now. How dare he, messing with your brain’s functionality.

But just as quick as the moment arrived, it was gone.

You both begin trekking back to the team. Just as you feel your phone vibrate to notify it being Eleven o’clock, you feel a warm, “not-too-hard, not-too-soft” pinky tenderly wrap around yours.

It felt just right.

I'm the first to admit that I’m reckless . I get lost in your beauty and I can’t see two feet in front of me.

taglist: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship @imconfusedanditsok @alexa360b34st @delicious-peaches-blog @shinguchi @creammy0

[ghost-nabbers-imagines]

👶 The baby is mine isnt it? Larry x reader

Ok so two things about this request. One, this is Larry's I have one started for Sal but really wanted to get this one up And two, a trigger warning is in effect. And in both instances the husband or boyfriend is an asshole who does not treat you well but it's going to be bad in Sal's.

Larry

I never meant to be the kinda guy who slept with another man's girlfriend. People who cheated on their partners were assholes and I wasn't like that. However, Sebastian was worse than any other asshole I've ever met. I've always thought he treated (Y/n) terribly and that she deserved better. I mean the guy treated her like shit, he was constantly poking fun at her, and making her feel bad about herself.

The day the affair happened she showed up at my door crying about how he had apparently cheated on her with a friend of his. We spent the night at my place hanging out like always except we got a bit too drunk and ended up having sex. It was the best sex I'd ever had with anyone and I knew that my love for her was genuine. I thought she felt the same way about me, I thought she would leave him and finally be mine. But I was so wrong.

She all but promised me she was leaving him that they were done. She told me she was leaving him for good this time, but a month later they were back together and she was avoiding me all together. I noticed she was different after that, more closed off, distant, almost scared. It was two months after that Ashley informed us that (Y/n) was pregnant. The news broke my heart and shocked me to my core.

It took me two weeks to get fed up with my feelings and to tell myself I had to to confront her about it. Pulling my hood up over my messy brown hair I trudged down the snow covered pavement. My hands were trembling and my mouth was dry, not because of the weather but from nerves to how she'd be towards me. Had I become a dirty secret that she wanted to hide away? Did she lie when she said she'd always felt that way?

As I knocked on her door a million ways this could go wrong flashed through my head. 'Shes pregnant with his baby what are you doing here?' My head practically screamed at me. Before I could turn and run the lock clicked and the door opened. (Y/n) peaked her head through the door her eyes widening when she saw me. She stepped out into the hallway closing the door.

"Hey Larry."

"Hey really that's all you have to say?"

"I'm sorry I know this is hard to understand right now but please try and believe me I'm doing what's best."

"I thought you were leaving him but now all of a sudden your pregnant?"

"Larry I wanted to leave I did but the baby changed things."

"Did you know you were pregnant when we slept together?"

"N-no I swear I-"

"And what about how much we drank that night? Did you tell the doctor you had gotten drunk within the first month?"

"Larry-"

"No please explain to me how you could be so damn careless. Not just to me but to the baby. And with everything you've told me about that jackass how could you want to raise a kid with him? Do you seriously think he'll get any better? For fucks sake (Y/n) are you really gonna let him treat your kid that bad?"

I truly didn't want to be yelling at her but I couldn't help it I was angry and hurt. Silent tears were cascading down her cheeks falling to the floor. Part of me wanted so badly to wrap my arms around her and stop her tears but the other part of me was focused on the pain in my chest. She didn't bother to wipe her tears away till the door clicked open again. Sebastian stepped out a frown already plastered on his face.

He glared at me in a way animals look at their rivals. It took every ounce of strength I had to not pounce on him, however whether I liked it or not he was still the father of her child. She would need him and that almost angered me even more. "What's going on here?" He asked putting his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders making her flinch. I clenched my jaw shut balling my hands up into fists in my hoodie pockets.

"Nothing. I was just leaving." I scoffed turning to leave. "Wait Larry please." (Y/n) pleaded in a broken voice making me stop in my tracks. "Yeah. Larry (Y/n) hasn't told you the good news yet." He said in an odd voice. I turned to face the two, (Y/n) was looking away fresh tears pooling in her eyes. He had a boastful smile as he lifted up her left hand revealing a small diamond ring.

I like a sharp knife had pierced right into my heart at the sight. (Y/n) couldn't face me but she had tears falling down her face again. "We're engaged. Right after graduation we're getting married and then moving to Santa Fe with my mom." He informed me. "Congrats. You deserve each other really." I spat turning to leave their building. I felt numb but also broken as I made my way home.

What was the point of any of this any more? The girl I'd been in love with since fifth grade was pregnant and engaged to another man. I had truly lost her for good. I hated thinking I had become just another regret to her. Our drunken one night stand was nothing but that to her while I had hoped it would be the first of many times I'd get to be intimate with the girl i loved.

With slumped shoulders and silent tears I made my way into the apartments. Sal would be with Ashley so I knew I could get what I needed from his apartment. I grabbed the bottle of pills petting Gizmo on my way out. Next I went out to the treehouse turning on some of my favorite music taking a seat in a bean bag chair. I sat pondering the whole situation while staring at the bottle of pills now sitting on my shelf.

"She chose him over you." The voice in my head whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to focus on the lyrics and drown out the voice. "They're going to get married, and have their baby and you'll just be a bad memory she wants to forget." The voice continued. I cranked up the music louder pressing my hands to my ears but it was no use. The voice was in my head, and unfortunately it was right.

Finally giving in I quickly scratched a note for mom and Sal. Once it was finished I began taking the pills followed by a swig of Fireball I kept up in my treehouse. I didn't cry or feel angry it was like something inside me was urging me to continue to take the pills. I made sure to include an apology about taking the pills to Sal in my note. Pretty soon there was only a small amount of pills left and I was feeling almost relieved.

As I took the last pill I leaned back in my beanbag chair my eyes landing on a Polaroid of (Y/n) and I. It had been taken by Sal just two weeks before the affair. Despite the drowsiness overwhelming me I picked up the picture a sad weak smile on my face. (Y/n) had a really bad day at school between Sebastian being a dick and apparently having her period, she ended up borrowing my jacket so she could tie her jacket around her waist. That's when it clicked in my head.

I tried to do the math in my head but I was slipping into unconsciousness quicker than I could add. The world began to get darker and darker. The last thing I saw before I passed out was (Y/n)'s beautiful face. I felt like such an idiot. Now both my girl and my baby would be stuck with that monster.

The next thing I knew I was standing across from my own corpse. "No! No I take it back! I'm not ready! I don't want to die!" I screamed at my slumped over body. Black opaque tears began to fall from my eyes never landing on the floor but disappearing mid air. "No you asshole! The babys yours! Wakeup and go save them before it's too late!" I yelled at my corpse. It was too late, I'd truly lost them both for good now because of my issues.

"Larry dear dinner is ready!" I heard my mom call from the ground. My poor mom would he the one to find me rather than Sal or anyone else. I felt even guiltier for leaving my mom alone. First my dad disappears on her now I kill myself? I felt selfish for leaving so may people behind.

"I'm so sorry mom." I whispered unmaterializing so she wouldnt see me. I stood there and listened as she called me once more still not getting any response. She began climbing the treehouse ladder mumbling something if I was asleep up here in this weather she'd kick my ass. My ghostly tears quickened hearing my mom's voice. When she reached the top of she immediately noticed the bottles and my body.

"Oh no oh god! Larry!" She screamed tears falling down her face. She kneeled next to my body her hand reaching up to feel my forehead. I could practically still feel her warmth but she felt how cold my body was. "Someone help! Please oh god be ok Lar Bear!" She screamed through sobs. She turned me on my side trying to get me to vomit.

Henry came running out to the bottom of the treehouse. "Lisa what is it what's wrong?" He asked in the same panicked voice Sal has sometimes. My mom tried and failed getting me to throw up the pills. "Call 911 Henry hurry!" She sobbed. Henry shakily pulled out his phone and ordered for an ambulance to come quickly before joining my mom in the treehouse.

"Oh no Larry." He said in a saddened voice as he knelt down next to mom who was cradling my head in her lap sobbing and taking her fingers through my hair. "My poor Lar bear." She choked out. I kneeled next to them placing my hand on my mom's shoulder making her turn and face where I was confused. I knew she wasnt ready to see me yet but I kept my hand there till the sirens came.

I watched from the treehouse as the loaded my body into a bag and into an ambulance. My mom and Henry went with a couple officers leaving me alone. After rematerializing I debated going into the actual apartments and talking to Megan but before I could I heard someone shouting my name. "Larry? Larry! Did you think that was funny? Because it was a really sick fucking joke." Sal's shaky voice yelled. I looked down to see him climbing up the treehouse.

Taking a deep breath I stood back preparing to deal with a very hurt best friend. When he got up to the treehouse he was shaking and had clearly been crying before. His eyes wondered up and down my ghost form seeing that it was in fact not a joke. "No. Not you. How could do this? How could you leave?" He said through a sob. "I'm sorry Sally Face. I left you and my mom a note. I went to see (y/n) today and Sebastian said they were getting married and moving so I lost it. I felt broken so I came back here to do this." I explained.

He shook his head sadly using his sleeve to wipe under the prosthetic. "I'm sorry Sal the voices got to me. By the time I realized the truth it was too late." I said apologizing. "Realized what truth?" He asked confused. "I found that picture the one you took remember?" I explained pointing towards the picture.

Despite being hurt and angry he leaned down grabbing the Polaroid. "Yeah that's the day you spent like all night cheering up (Y/n) and making her smile as much as you possibly could." He said confused as to why this was important. "Do you remember why I had to give (Y/n) my hoodie even though she's got a flannel around her waist?" I asked pointing to her in the picture. Sal went to speak but before he did his eyes got wide and he looked up to me.

"Oh my god dude!" He yelled shocked. "I know. I'm an asshole and now I'm no better than my dad." I said sadly. For along time I had a constant battle in my head about why my dad had left and why he didnt want me. Now here I was abandoning my baby and (Y/n). It made me hate myself even more to think about.

"But Larry you have to stop her from going!"

"How the hell do I do that when I'm stuck here? Not to mention, what would I say 'oh hey i know I'm dead and all but since you're pregnant with my baby you should stay in town and not marry that fuck head of a boyfriend of yours."

"You have to do something Larry. I mean she can actually see you and the baby will able to too."

"You're right as always little dude. Just hopefully she'll come over here after I was so horrible."

Not even minutes later we could here someone calling for both Sal and I. The voice was sad and scared but i recognized it immediately. "Go ahead hide for a second I'll try to break it to her." Sal said. I nodded unmaterializing as Sal and I made our way down from the treehouse it seemed like I could only go as far as the ground underneath the treehouse. The sight of (Y/n) almost hurt worse than that of my mom.

Her eyes were red and puffy and she had tear streaks down her slightly pink cheeks. She had a hand on her stomach the other clutching the necklace that had been a birthday present from me. I'd recognize the guitar pick anywhere it had been one I'd gotten at a Santiy's fall concert that she'd been to sick to go to. "Tell me it's not true Sal. Tell me it wasnt him." She pleaded crying. Sal pulled off his mask before comfortingly grabbing one of her hands.

"I'm so sorry (Y/n). But you should know he loved you so much." Sal said as she gradually lost it more at his words. She began shaking her head her other hand covering her mouth. "No! No no it's not true it's not true!" She cried out sinking to the ground. My heart ached and screamed for me to hold her but I knew I couldn't yet. Sal crouched down next to her placing a gentle hand on her back.

"(Y/n) do you remember what Larry and I told you about this place. About how we showed you Megan?" He asked trying to ease her into the subject. She looked up sniffling thinking for a brief minute. "About the ghosts? I thought we made all that stuff up." She said tears still falling down her precious face. Sal shook his head before answering "it was all real Megan was real. If you die in this building you stay here. Larry is still here." He told her. She let out another small sob.

"Where is he?" She asked looking towards the treehouse. I took a deep breath and materialized making her eyes widen in shock and she stood up quickly. "I'll give you some time alone." Sal said excusing himself. I turned my stare to the ground I couldn't look at her knowing what I had done. "Oh Larry. I'm so sorry this is all my fault." She said sadly. I finally looked up at her meeting her sad eyes.

"No I'm sorry. I was an asshole. A jealous fucking asshole and I'm so sorry."

"Larry theres something you should know. About-"

"The babys mine isnt it?"

She nodded and I felt myself begin to weep again. I fell to my knees the pain of this whole situation hitting me again. She moved in front of me and I wrapped my arms around her waist letting my head barely lean against her stomach. Her arms hovering around my neck. I sobbed into her stomach till I felt something gently nudge my cheek.

I looked up to face (Y/n) confused but she gave me a weak smile moving my hand to her stomach placing hers next to mine. "She's kicking." She whispered. Sure enough I felt the smallest little nudge once again. My face broke out into a grin. "She? I have a daughter?" I asked happily. She nodded giggling "Yes Larry we're gonna have a little girl."

My grin only got bigger as I stood up pulling her into as much of a hug as I could manage. "I fucking love you (y/n). I know i can't really be what you need considering I'm a ghost but I want to be a part of your life and our little girl's life." I told her pulling away from the hug but continuing to hold her hands. When I looked down I saw her hand no longer had a ring. "I want that too bear. I told Sebastian earlier it was over. That I wanted to be with my baby's actual father. He yelled and threatened me but I had already packed up my stuff and left. I was heading here when the ambulances passed me. I asked someone out front and they told me the young stoner Overdosed in the treehouse." She said frowning. "I'll have Sal fix my note to mom so she knows about you." I told her knowing despite my moms broken heart she would love to take care of her grandbaby and sort of daughter in law.

"Does Lisa know about any of this? Or about you still being here?" She asked. "No I haven't talked to her about it yet. She asked why you weren't coming over anymore I just told her you were back with him. And I dont think shes ready to see me just yet." I explained making her nod her head. Sal came back out his prosthetic back on but I could tell he too had been crying. "Hey Sal can you grab my note from the treehouse I need to have you change something." I asked smiling at my best friend. He smiled back climbing the treehouse before returning with the note and a pen.

"Tell my mom what happened, that I thought I was losing them both and how much I really longed for (y/n) to be mine and the baby to be mine. And add that Henry was the best step dad I could have asked for." I told him. He scribbled everything down as close to my handwriting as he could get before folding the note back up. "(Y/n) you can stay with me tonight if you'd like and go to Lisa's tomorrow." Sal told (Y/n). She turned back towards me smiling softly. "I'd ask to stay in the treehouse with you but I take it you won't want me climbing up there and everything. I laughed shaking my head. "I'll be watching over you dont worry." I promised.

~your pov~

The next morning I made my way down to Lisa's apartment with a lasagna I had picked up the stuff to have Sal help with. From the outside of the door I could hear Lisa's soft crying coming from inside. Taking a deep breath I knocked on the door. After a couple minutes the door opened to reveal Henry. "You hang out with the boys, (Y/n) right?" He asked observing my growing belly. I forced myself to nod with a smile before answering "Yeah Hi Mr. Fisher. I wanted to bring this by for Lisa."

A moment later Lisa appeared next to Henry. "(Y/n) sweetheart come in." She sniffled offering me a broken smile. Henry let me in and took the lasagna to the kitchen for me. Lisa pulled me into a hug holding me tightly. She was wearing her pajamas but with one of Larry's jackets on. "He loved you so much dear I hope you know that." She said with a small sob.

"I know Lisa. I loved him too. I'm so sorry this is my fault. If I had just told him the truth about the baby, or if I hadn't been so scared of Sebastian he'd still be here. I'm so so sorry." I choked out feeling myself break down into tears again. Lisa pulled away pushing some of my hair back. "Now dont you talk like that Larry wouldn't want you blaming yourself or stressing about his actions. We'll all miss him of course but he wouldnt want you to be in so much pain in this state. He loved you and if you're saying what I think you are he would have loved this baby too. It's not your fault you were in an impossible situation." She told me sternly. I nodded trying to wipe away some of the tears. "The babys a girl. I wanted so badly to go tell Larry when I found that out. But Sebastian said if I talked to him there wouldn't be a baby to talk about." I admitted making Lisa frown before smiling and putting a comforting arm around me as we sat on the couch.

"Where are you staying dear?" She asked taking a sip from a mug on the coffee table. "I stayed with Sal last night once I found out about Larry. I was coming over here to talk to him about our baby but I got here too late." I sniffled. I pulled the picture from my pocket, I had brought a copy of the ultrasound picture for Lisa. She smiled grabbing the picture. "Is this her?" She asked. I nodded smiling at the picture of my daughter and her granddaughter.

"I hope she has Larry's eyes." I sighed. "Hopefully she doesn't have his nose. My father gave him that nose and he hated it. I cant imagine it's a trait he'd want to pass on." Lisa said with a pained laugh. "Oh god yeah. I kinda hope she does. It'd be like having a little Larry running around." I laughed. "What if you moved into Larry's room? I couldn't stand the idea of getting rid of his things or donating any of it." She suggested looking up from the photo. "Are you sure I dont want to impose Lisa especially with everything that's happened." I asked. She shook her head smiling. "Of course dear. I could use more family right now." She smiled.

~Third person pov~

Over the next couple months you lived happily with Lisa helping her around the house while she helped you with baby stuff. You spent most of your time after school hanging out with Larry in the treehouse. Sal and Lisa went with you to your appointments. Sal would take his walkie and let Larry listen in each time. Of course when you'd get back you'd go straight to him and talk to him about it anyways. As the baby was born and got older Larry was an amazing father in your opinion. He was always there for you and your child.

~Lex💛

[ohmygraysonsthighs]

God is a (Wo)Man (E.D.){SMUT}

A/N: hey y’all! so uh like i know i like kinda don’t exist anymore and it’s all chill i don’t know if i’m gonna be posting more or not but this was in my drafts and since i keep seeing circles and lines get attention i just thought y’all would want this one too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The bass of the ear wrecking music surrounding you pumped through your bloodstream. Not even ten minutes ago you were in your friend Ethan's car smoking a bowl outside of the last party of the summer. The affects always took a little while to kick in for him, but you couldn't say the same. Smoking weed worked like ecstasy for you. Every feeling so much more intense than usual, which would make you horny as ever but you tried to contain it.

Before you both walked into  the home, Ethan whispered in your ear to make sure to stay close to him, saying he didn't want anyone fucking with you while you were in this state. His words made your heart swell. Of course you had a crush on him- how cheesy, right- but you couldn't help it. 

Right now you were dancing with Syd, a close childhood friend of yours. She offered you a drink but you declined, not really looking to get crossfaded tonight. When someone changed the song to an unfamiliar beat, your eyes began to scan your surroundings.  Ethan's twin, Grayson, was leaned up against a wall talking to Ethan and a kid named Josh. Ethan looked totally out of it and you chuckled. It's definitely kicked in now.

You left Syd to go talk to some of your other friends. Mid conversation, a presence came up from behind and wrapped their arms around your waist.

"Hey Y/N." Ethan slurred, resting his head upon your shoulder.

"Hey to you too big boy. How ya hanging in there?"

"I feel great baby. How 'bout you?"

"Kinda like I don't exist. And my shoulders feel like honey. So pretty good." The person you were talking to got caught up in someone else and you waved bye to them, planning on finishing your conversation later.

"Mmm. Honey. So sweet. Just like you."  Ethan kissed your cheek and his lips made your skin burn like coals. You had to get out of his arms or your next move could be sinfully deadly. Grabbing his hands, you twisted out of his hold.

"Alright E, let's go dance. Sound good?" He offered a droopy nod as a response and you shook your head. Still holding his hands, you led him to the area where most of the people were.

A few rap songs played and you both jumbled over your words trying to rap to the other, which just ended with the both of you in fits of laughter. Although others crossed paths with you both, you stuck together. The cycle of horribly trying to keep up with the fast paced songs came to a halt once "God is a woman" came on.

"E! E! This song is so good!" You stumbled into is arms then back out, singing to him.

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

Every other song you've listened to you shouted the lyrics out loud. Not this one. You don't know what had come over you, but it was like you subconsciously knew how you wanted this to end, like you were on a mission. Instead of shouting, you let the lyrics drip off your tongue like honey.

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

You took a step closer to Ethan, your faces just a few inches apart. All of the sudden he had nothing to say, his eyes darker than before and one of his hands leaving yours to grip your waist.

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

"You know, this song is incredibly sexual." He murmured.

"Really? I had no idea." You bit your lip and turned around so your ass was pressed against his bulge, teasingly grinding on to him.

"Y/N, what are you doing."

"What feels good."

"We can't do this. This isn't right."

Turning your head to linger your lips around his ear, you whispered, "Then tell me to stop."

Ethan pressed his lips together in a line. "Don't. Stop." You smirked and turned back around to continue grinding on him.

Ain't nobody else can relate

Boy, I like that you ain't afraid

Baby, lay me down and let's pray

I'm tellin' you the way I like it, how I want it

Ethan's rough hands skidded across your torso hotly, landing above your clit and rubbing you through your shorts. A small gasp left your mouth.

"Did you bite off more than you can chew, princess?" He said smugly. To show him that he barely knew the beginning of what you could handle, you grinded on him with more pressure until you could feel more than just a bulge.

"I know what I can handle. I know what I want."

You, you love it how I move you

You love it how I touch you

My one, when all is said and done

You'll believe God is a woman

And I, I feel it after midnight

A feelin' that you can't fight

My one, it lingers when we're done

You'll believe God is a woman

"I can't fucking take this anymore." Ethan twirled you around, brought both hands up to your neck, and kissed you passionately. It happened so quickly that at first you weren't able to comprehend his movements, but in the blink of an eye you reciprocated his actions. Your kisses were hungry, like you both haven't eaten in months and were finally brought something that could replenish you for life. How just one kiss could make you this wet you couldn't understand. Ethan broke the kiss and looked you in the eyes.

"Follow me." He tugged at your hands and lead you upstairs. A few of the rooms were locked with teenagers doing something you were going to do soon. Eventually you found an unoccupied room and Ethan held the door open for you.

"Sit on the bed." He mumbled as you walked into the room. You did as you were told and watched him slowly close the door and lock it, the action alone causing goosebumps to erupt across your body.

"You've been bad Y/N. Grinding on me like that in front of all those people? Tsk, tsk, where are your manners?" He strode over to you. You loved this side of Ethan. His dominant side came out every once in a while, but imagining him in bed like this was sending you into overdrive.

"I couldn't help it. You make my head spin; you have no clue how long I've been waiting to do that." Regularly you would've never confessed something of those sorts to him, but you're laying it all out on the table tonight.

"You're in for a treat, kitten. I'm gonna ruin you in the best way imaginable. When all is said and done, you'll believe God is a man." And just like that your lips met again. It was less hungry than before- probably because you both knew something better was to come. Pausing momentarily, you took took your tube top off and Ethan took off his shirt. You were always amazed at how well formed his body was. Shortly after you rejoined, Ethan's mouth left yours to travel down your neck, lightly biting which caused you to yelp. Everything already felt like it was vibrating, so the pleasure from his tongue was multiplied tenfold. He wrapped his tongue around a nipple and you couldn't help but let a groan fall out.

"Look at you, you're already a mess for me."

"Don't be so big headed, you know what being high does to me." You said, head thrown back in satisfaction.

"Babe you're about to find out how big this head really is." He winked, letting your nipple pop out of his mouth and crouching down to wiggle you out of your shorts and undies. Once you were free, Ethan spared no time to run his thumb up and down your glistening cunt.

"Even more wet than I imagined." Slipping his thumb between his lips, he moaned, "And even sweeter too. I can't wait to devour this pussy," your eyes grew wide and he cracked a smile, "Not yet though."

Head bobbing back up to meet yours for a third time, you reconnected as his fingers cruised along your soaking folds. He circled the perimeter of your clit until you had to break the kiss to take a breather. Resting his forehead on yours, his eyes peaked down to watch as his fingers made you weaker by the second and you did the same. Thumb not leaving your clit, he let his pointer and middle finger finally enter you and your body relaxed. You observed as they entered dry and withdrew completely drenched.

"See that, kitten? Who makes you this wet?"

"You, E." You gasped.

"Damn right. Never forget that." You nodded in response, growing more breathless the more he pumped into and rubbed you. When your lips met once more it was sloppier and wetter than previously. An impatient hand reached out to touch him from his pecks, to his abs, all the way down to his belt and yanking at his shorts.

"Eager, aren't we?" He said huskily before pulling away from you momentarily, undoing his belt and removing his pants along with his boxers. His hard-on sprung up and you reached out to stroke it.

"Not tonight, princess. Not tonight." He removed your hand and went right back to his earlier work. Hands now sliding in and out at a faster rate and thumb still going in on the clit, he added a third finger to stretch you out which made your heart race.

"Fuck your fingers feel so good in my pussy," you moaned, "Ethan holy fuck."

His fingers curled up and hit your g spot, causing your back to arch, gluttonous for his contact. No one has ever made you feel this good before.

"You like that? You want me to make you cum?" A whimper escaped your throat and you were too busy focusing on the pleasure he was giving you. Those hands truly worked like magic. The way he weighed his thumb down on your clit burned blissfully. Your pussy strained for more and you ground yourself into him the hardest you could. Eyes closed in the dark room and high out of your fucking mind, touch was your most heightened sense.

"Answer me." Ethan growled, other hand reaching around your throat, squeezing lightly.

"Yes! Yes E please make me cum. I need it so bad baby please."

"Since you asked so nicely. Cum for daddy, Y/N." A fourth finger was added and Ethan's eyes bore holes into yours. He removed the hand from your throat and used it to pinch your clitoris and you were through. You came loudly, screaming his name like it was the only word you knew.

He opened your mouth with his wet digits so you could taste yourself and you hummed in delight.

"How do you taste?"

"Delicious, daddy."

"Good. You were so tight around my fingers, I'm sure you'd be even tighter around my cock."

"Let's find out." You spit into your hand and lightly grabbed him, stroking until his lips parted. Slipping his tip in between your folds, you teased him by sliding it up and down through your wetness.

"Enough playing baby." You listened to his words and allowed him to slowly glide into you.  He somehow expanded you more than his four fingers did. It hurt a little bit so it took a second for adjusting, but once you did, he filled you with his dick.

"You're so fucking tight." He grunted, pulling out slightly then rammed back in. Steadily, you both found a rhythm and your second orgasm was already building up until he removed himself completely.

"On your hands and knees. Now." You excitedly complied. As soon as you did, Ethan wasted no time entering you again. The new angle had your legs trembling and groans following. Hearing Ethan moan behind you turned you on even more and you started to fuck yourself onto his cock.

"Shit Y/N, that's so good. Your ass is so hot." He said, spanking you and getting a grunt in return. He continued to spank you as you backed that ass for him. When he had had enough, he harshly grabbed your hips and pounded into you relentlessly, hitting that perfect spot over and over again while you reached down to add some friction to your already sensitive clit.

"Ethan! Harder, daddy, harder. Keep hitting that spot and I'm gonna fucking cum again." And harder he went, balls slapping up onto your hand and for the second time that night, you were about to explode. But this time was different than earlier, a different sensation came over you. It felt like something else was going to happen. Before you could think about it for too long though, you came, squirting all over Ethan's dick.

"Holy fucking shit." You were spent but Ethan was merciless, still going at it until he flipped you over once more then pulled out.

"Cum in my mouth, E." You took him in, swirling your tongue around the head then pushing him down your throat and out until he spilled his seed. After you swallowed it down, you kitten licked his tip to make sure you got it all, staring at him, then finished with a peck.

Both of you layed down next to each other on the bed, exhausted. Ethan grabbed your hand and kissed to back of it.

"I hope Matt isn't pissed we fucked in his bed. And we fucked his bed up." Ethan chuckled at your comment and turned to look at you.

"That was fucking amazing Y/N."

"I know. I guess we learned a few things from this."

"What?"

"That you're as good as I thought in bed."

"And?"

"And I guess we can agree that God is a person."

[nathjonesey-75]

2021 in Electronic Music: A New Hope?

A long time ago in a galaxy far away…there was the nineties system. In that system, folk came together in happiness to celebrate together at places called nightclubs, where DJ masters would enthral, guide and entertain the folk by composing and conducting a range of sounds. The people would dance throughout the time of the stars, until the great star would rise – and folk would rest. Or they would fly to another dimension and be led by other masters to more happiness.

                                                ____________________

 It all sounds like a fairy-tale, doesn’t it? The world which was once a reality feels like it needs Jedi-style leaders to save it from the abyss, otherwise known as traditionalist business hell. The abyss which sees concrete futures made without character, without expression, art or creativity – where culture could be as one-dimensional as the spurious garbage emanating from the mouths of those supposedly in charge of moving nations to brighter futures.

 Also, without too much finger-pointing, 2020 in itself has been like a meteor which has hit the creative world like an alien rock with no direction. Furthermore, without conspiracy theorising (about custom-made laboratory viruses in secretive lands – oops, got sucked in there) and observing the hard, indigestive facts of October 2020 – where no end date is presentable as to when the uninvited virus will be vanquished. Can we either look to the future with hope for electronic – and indeed, all live music? Or are we to fight the good fight for as long as we can, to abate the ‘dark side of the force’ in corporate-led governments and cold business?

 During the damaged and lost eighties – socially and politically – times were hard unless you were a yuppie whose “enterprise” in the way of sole trading was rewarded on the stock exchange. Yet, what came from that mass hardship for everyone else – was what made us not only dream – but live out our dreams. Make dreams for others.

 Music was in the post-punk, electro-pop era. Hip-hop was sky-rocketing across the world, from New York – across the USA and over to every Western nation. As was House Music. As was Techno. The DIY ideal which once applied to Punk Rock in the mid-to late seventies now had been adopted by DJs. Is that a pair of Technics 1210s? Is that a Roland synthesizer? Ok, let’s do something.

 As Resident Advisor’s mini-documentary “How Punk Shaped Electronic Music” - about the two genres’ correlations – it says

      “The most radical part of it was an idea – if you want to make music, You don’t need a big record deal; a big, fancy studio – or even much musical talent. You just need the sheer force of will - to get out there and do it.”

This was never more prevalent than in both Chicago, where House Music was developed – and in Detroit, where technology’s advances in electronic devices saw Techno appear in the latter part of the decade. Still, the concept of not having to possess “much musical talent” was not necessarily true when it applied to some of the most celebrated electronic musical doctors. Larry Heard played several musical instruments from a young age. Underworld played instruments even before forming their first band, Screen Gemz – back in 1975. Sasha was a classically-trained pianist before ever seeing a DJ. I could go on.

So, in light of recent debates as to whether these performers, their industries and followings are “viable” for financial support during this degraded and destructive year  – I don’t need to revisit the figures of economic value for which our industry produces. As for The Stranglers’ Hugh Cornwell interview on Good Morning Britain on October the 9th – he said, “House Music is the worst song writing….there isn’t any song writing skills in House Music, for me.” Regardless of his own successes in the late seventies and early eighties – this is as moot a point to be found, as would be for anyone over sixty-five who have never understood – or tried to understand electronic music. Except by now, you must have been self-isolating from the wider world out there, where times have moved on from only guitars in song writing.

   Larry Levan was instrumental in writing music for Grace Jones, while The Stranglers were at their peak of popularity. Why did Madonna recruit both Sasha and Paul Oakenfold to help compose her tracks over twenty years ago? Why did Danny Boyle curate the 2012 Olympic Games opening ceremony with the musical aid of Rick Smith from Underworld? Why did Kendrick Lamar win awards for tracks with lyrics which read; 

"Shit on anybody, I'm a rappin' Porta-Potty/And I probably gotta dump right now". 

Hardly poetry. You could throw mud and hit anything if it’s about “bad” music nowadays. Ironically, John Holmstrom, founding editor of Punk magazine described that genre as "rock and roll by people who didn't have very many skills as musicians but still felt the need to express themselves through music". Except Punk Rock lives on in this anthem-led society of 2020. 

While Cornwell’s empty shot at House Music was filmed seemingly at home in West London, I would urge him to use his ideal location and visit the Design Museum in Kensington, where the Electronic Music exhibition is held until February 2021. The opinion of lack of skills required in writing songs – would surely be under further threat at the display of Jeff Mills’ instrument engineering, or Aphex Twin’s multi-level track and video choreography. The words “out of touch” are, I feel – valid in this case. Granted, every genre has producers who don’t try hard but write cheap, catchy songs – think of all the one-hit-wonders in the seventies and eighties. “Shaddap You Face”, “Star Trekkin”, “Puppy Love”…

These were songs made for either fun, children’s television, or for undisclosed reasons by each composer – suffice to say that none involved House Music. Yet over thirty-five years of House Music walking in unison with the rise of technology and evolution of nightclubs and festivals – has meant that all instruments and now software are taught and developed at schools, colleges and universities across the world. I would be highly confident of being able to write a cheesy, tacky and bad track in one day – whether I wanted the financial profit from it or not – would be a matter for my bank balance after 2020 (wink-wink, nudge-nudge…)

For future reference, with mists of all colours being spread across the musical galaxy as we enter the last two months of what has been an abysmal anomaly year, the anger generated by punk was closed down quickly by the governments of the late seventies. It was beyond saving as a regular, viable movement by the time the eighties commenced. Its direct anti-establishment nature would have made sure of that, were it in the situation we now face. 

But that did not stop its musicians from carrying on making music. Post-punk continued its energy and old regime defiance through bands inspired by what came before. Bands such as New Order, Public Image Limited, Talking Heads and The Fall - all had messages and attitudes carried from previous years. Genres were reinvented and music adapted. Moving into the unknown may be unclear and unnerving right now. Yet, fighting for what we can recreate should be a binding motive for DJs, promoters, clubbers, electronic artists and everyone involved in our scene. 

From recently looking back at a haul of 1990s editions of Mixmag and Ministry magazines I had stowed away, it’s clear we had it “damn good” at that time. We may – and highly likely never will return to that level of hedonism, heights of being spoilt rotten for wealth of music heard for the first time, the talent and progress of the producers guiding us through, skills of DJs and grandiosity and grunginess of clubs which we visited. We do, however, have these imprints on our brains and know what works. Living solely from memories is not what I am advocating – using memories and what we have today, as a global community to post flagposts of how the “underground will live forever” – in believing our clubs can be reopened and that celebrating our own culture at future parties, is worth the time spent in doing so. Do it yourself can work, as was ever the case. 

[kevinskorner]

THANK YOU DUA LIPA: FUTURE NOSTALGIA REVIEW

I JUST HAD A FULL ON DANCE PARTY IN MY ROOM TO MY SECOND LISTEN OF THIS ALBUM. IT IS A POP MASTERPIECE. WHEN PEOPLE SAY “POP PERFECTION” THIS IS WHAT THAT IS. COMPLETELY FLOORED ABOUT HOW DUA DID THIS. I DON’T REALLY KNOW WHAT TO SAY EXCEPT, THANK YOU. THANK YOU DUA LIPA FOR DOING THIS POP MUSIC. WHILE HAVING MY DANCE PARTY, I HAD AT LEAST 3 MOMENTS OF PURE JOY AND ALMOST TEARS BECAUSE I WAS SO HAPPY LISTENING TO THIS. I WAS SO HAPPY THAT SOMEONE ACTUALLY MADE POP MUSIC LIKE THIS BECAUSE POP HASN’T BEEN LIKE THIS IN FOR-EVER. I JUST FEEL SO OVERJOYED BECAUSE AS A POP CULTURE LOVER AND A POP MUSIC CONNOISSEUR, THIS IS ALL I COULD EVER ASK FOR. THE BEATS AND LYRICS WERE SO CATHARTIC AND ORGASMIC. SOMETIMES I FELT LIKE I WAS IN LOVE WITH ANWAR TOO. WHEN DUA WON THE BEST NEW ARTIST GRAMMY IN 2019, I FELT TWO THINGS, HAPPINESS & FEAR. I WAS HAPPY BECAUSE I LOVE SEEING MY FAVES WIN BUT THE BEST NEW ARTIST CATEGORY HAS HAD A CURSE IN THE PAST WHERE THE WINNERS NEVER ACHIEVE THE SAME SUCCESS THEY DID ON THE FIRST ALBUM. BUT WHEN DUA CAME OUT WITH DON’T START NOW SHE COMPLETELY DEMOLISHED THAT CURSE, AND I COULDN’T BE MORE THRILLED. DON’T START NOW IS ALREADY HER BIGGEST SONG AND HIGHEST PEAKING SONG IN AMERICA (#2, HOPEFULLY COMING FOR NUMBER ONE SOON) AND THEN CAME FUTURE NOSTALGIA AND PHYSICAL, AND IT GOT BETTER AND BETTER. AN ALBUM LIKE THIS IS ALL I COULD EVER ASK FOR. okay, i need to calm down. this album is just perfect. not one single critique. from the bass guitars, to the string sections, to the choirs, and the crazy dance beats. everything is pristine. every track has something special. future nostalgia is the perfect opener to an empowered woman in her mid twenties’ album. don’t start now is solidifying itself as one of my favorite songs of all time. cool is the perfect summer jam and having tove lo as a co-writer, you can totally feel her slow pop seductiveness. physical is the best pop song of 2020 and best pop song FOR 2020. something motivating that you can dance to & helps you get your mind off anything but having a good time. LEVITATING. THATS ALL. my sugar boo!!! “I GOT U MOONLIGHT, YOUR MY STARLIGHT!!” AND THAT BRIDGE!!!!!! pretty please is the perfect slow down jam that comes in at the best time. hallucinate is a sexy fucking banger. i literally feel like i’m in a club in NYC feeling this crazy whiff of euphoria listening to this song. the lights are changing and i’m dancing ALL OVER that floor, sweating and crying at the same time :) When she says “my my my mind my my my mi-nd!” I ALWAYS JUST SMILE FROM PURE JOY!!!! love again makes me want to put on some clothes from the 70s and GROOVE! The drop is perfectly timed and her saying “you got me in love again” makes you feel like you’re the one she’s talking to. the ending being gorgeous strings makes it really feel like a homage to the 70s.  break my heart is funkalicious and so addictive omg. even though its not sampled, that appetizing bass reminds me a lot of Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust”. that growl when dua says “whenever you want it ba-bay”, and the whole chorus MY GOD. what a great single choice, and it’s SO funky I just want to fucking jump off my bed and DANCE. good in bed is a so fucking sexual that you WISH you were in that relationship, they drive each other mad but they take it all out during the sex and that angst is what makes them good at it. (also the lines “All that good pipe in the moonlight” and “Yeah, we don't know how to talk (Mmm), But damn, we know how to fuck” are my favorite on the album). and finally, boys will be boys, the most unexpected song on the album, but also not unexpected at all. When Dua proclaims herself as the “Female-Alpha” in track one, you expect her to show that, and she does. but, in the last track she reminds us of the misogyny females go through and how the saying “boy will be boys” is one of a laughable matter. boys will be boys, but girls will be women. that line reminds me why my whole life i’ve always been inspired by and admired women. they are powerful and strong and through all the difficulties they go through, they show that you can persevere. the chorus is absolutely gorgeous. i love a good choir! what a way to end a powerful album, with a powerful message. thank you dua lipa. i will never have enough words to say to you for this. 

[thesinglesjukebox]

LADY A - CHAMPAGNE NIGHT

[3.17]

Hey, Lady A (play a song that's being lam-bas-ted)...

Leah Isobel: Country music for gentrifiers. [2]

Katie Gill: I was super ready to link that Bo Burnham song and call it a review. Blue jean tux, drinking PBR instead of champagne, got no money so we're out drinking beer in the country; this is pure pandering -- Hilary Scott lives in a 7,600-square-foot, six-bedroom and eight-bathroom home. But THEN I looked up the song on Wikipedia and saw that it premiered on Songland, a show designed to give unknown songwriters a big break and help demystify the songwriting process. Does it still count as pandering if it's written by a songwriter drawing on their own experiences but sung by a group that hasn't experienced the song's subject at all? But THEN I saw that Madeline Merlo, who wrote "Champagne Night" won the CCMA Rising Star Award and the BCCMA Female Artist of the Year and has been working in the industry for over seven years. Which 1. puts a big hole in Songland's claim that they're designed for unknown songwriters and 2. makes me wonder if this is an industry vet writing something she knows will be a hit or a twenty-something drawing on her own experiences. But then I realized that I'm way overthinking this song that's a [5] at best and I should just go take a walk instead. Is it shameless pandering? Possibly! Is it remarkable? Not really! [5]

Oliver Maier: If you're going to do the "Only Shallow" intro then you might as well just do a shoegaze song instead of trying to pull off ranch reggae. It would even come with the added benefit of making these lyrics indecipherable. You know what, here. [3]

Katherine St Asaph: We're about three months away from "fuck you city people with your social distancing, we pack stadiums and bars and fight and fuck IN PERSON" songs, right? This isn't quite there, but the necessary contempt is. Maybe it's not fair to this particular song to notice how easily those velvet rope/"way out here where we don't hear the highway" lines are repurposable, but that's when I thought of it, because from institutional-grade reconstituted bro country, the mind wanders. Also, how bad do you think the Songland writer wanted to write "bottles and models," couldn't, but couldn't give up the scansion? And also, Prosecco exists. Even, like, Andre exists. Even in the South. [4]

Alfred Soto: I know not a person who held a champagne night during the peak of Zoom happy hours in late March through mid April, but the sheer mindlessness of Lady A's city-baiting cynicism plays worse in the COVID era. Not that I give a damn about Charles Kelley's praise for VIPs "sippin' PBRs," although I call bullshit on that line too; but I hear a cold glint in his and Hillary Scott's vocal attack akin to a second-tier FOX News host turning into a human chyron on a Saturday afternoon. And Shane McAnally, for shame, scraped the lyrics from the bottom of a warm wine cooler bottle. [1]

Alex Clifton: So Lady Anathema took a song written by Madeline Merlo initially titled "I'll Drink to That" and "tweaked" it to fit their style. By "tweaked," I mean literally none of the lyrics from the original made it over to the Lady Anecdote record -- they saved the melody and then made it slicker. This isn't inherently bad in itself (songs are re-written all the time) but had I not listened to what Merlo wrote, I'd probably like this more. "Drinking beer on a champagne night" is a stronger hook than the generic "I'll drink to that," but something about Merlo's song felt far more like a party. "A blacktop road turns into dust," a pretty image Merlo came up with, morphs into "and we go where we don't hear the highway." It's not a bad change, per se, but it bores me. Lady Antagonism has churned out another rote summer drinking single, which leaves me feeling like Lady Apathy. [4]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[rhinozilla]

Whumptober Day 10: Unconscious

Summary:  Apparently, androids can sleepwalk. Hank wished somebody had told him that. Now he has to corral a feverish Connor into going back to bed.

--

If the sound of the radio booming to life at the tender hour of 3am ended up giving Hank a heart attack, he was going to sue Britney Spears.

“Cause to lose all my senses…That is just so typically me!”

Yet, there she was.

Hank snapped awake and then groaned as the rest of his body woke up just as violently.

“Oh baby, baby!”

He threw off the blankets and clamored to his feet, practically feeling the walls rattle around him as the radio in the living room roared. It only got worse when he opened the bedroom door.

“Oops, I did it again! I played with your heart…Got lost in the game.”

He hurried down the hallway in socked feet, skidding slightly on the floor as he reached the radio in the living room.

“Oops, you think I’m in love…That I’m sent from aboooooove…”

In the semi darkness, he pawed at the radio until his hand hit one of the dials.

“I’m not. That. Innocent!”

“Shut up!” he growled, smacking the power button.

Silence plunged across the living room, and the panic that had sent him flying out of bed ebbed enough for the aftermath of the abrupt movements to register all over his body. Hank huffed, putting a hand at his back and leaning against the wall of the kitchen as he caught his breath.

“Jesus…Jesus fucking Christ…Connor?” he wheezed, squinting in the dark living room.

He could see well enough to make out the empty shape of the couch, the blanket and pillows left abandoned, and a big puddle where the ice bag had hit the floor, busted, and then melted. Sumo was sitting up in his bed against the wall, watching Hank curiously.

“Shit.”

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find Connor.

The android was standing in the kitchen, directly in front of the open door of the refrigerator. He looked dopey enough in his pajamas, just an old Star Trek t-shirt and red basketball shorts, and staring into the fridge like the little light in the back held all the secrets of the universe.

“Connor?” Hank heard water running, and he hurried into the kitchen to see that the faucet was running full blast. “What the Hell…”

He stepped around Connor and turned off the faucet, finding a light switch on the wall and illuminating the kitchen. Connor didn’t react at all, just standing like an idiot in front of the fridge, eyes half lidded and his mouth hanging open like a zombie.

Hank came to a stop beside him and snapped his fingers in front of his eyes. Nothing.

“Hmph.” He waved his hand and got the same amount of nothing in response. He slowly turned his hand over and touched Connor’s forehead. He felt hot. “Ah, kid…”

The technician had warned him that some mild overheating might happen after the repairs Connor had gone through the previous afternoon. When Hank had gone to bed at eleven, Connor had been asleep on the couch, maybe a little warm but not what he’d call feverish, and had a big ice bag over his thirium pump for precaution. He’d been high as a kite from the time Tina and Person brought him home to the time he finally went into rest mode, only waking up occasionally to ask Hank some of the most batshit things that he had ever heard.

Between that and whatever the Hell he was looking at now, Hank was going to have a few words with the technicians who designed that new android anesthetic…pain killer…whatever bullshit. He wasn’t sure whether to call this delirium or sleepwalking…Either way, the lights were not on upstairs, he could tell that much by looking into his friend’s eyes.

“Connor,” he put some authority into his tone. “Go back to bed.”

Connor just stared through him, audibly breathing as his ventilation program tried to cool him off.

“You’re not well, kiddo. Go back to bed.” Hank pointed to the couch for emphasis.

Connor continued to stare into another dimension, though his LED spun from blue to yellow for one cycle, before—

“YOOO I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want—“ the radio screamed back to life, giving Hank his second near-heart attack of the night.

“Fucking Hell, Connor, seriously?”

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!” the radio sang loudly.

Hank stomped back over to the radio.

“I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really, want!”

Hank smacked the off button again.

“So tell me what you want, what you really—“ It cut off mid lyric.

“I WANT,” Hank spun back around, “for you to get your ass back on the couch.”

When Connor rose to no such demand, Hank grumbled and marched back over. He was so used to Connor stepping out of the way when he got too close, that he nearly ran right into him. As it was, his proximity sensors were alert enough to make his body take a delayed step back. Hank shoved the fridge door shut and then got behind Connor, planting his hands on his shoulders.

“Move it.” He pushed lightly at his back to make him move.

Connor may as well have been a brick wall for all the give he had in his body. Hank ran a frustrated hand through his hair, sighed, and decided to go with the route he hated, but what he knew would be effective.

“RK800, receive instructions,” he stated loudly.

Facing away from him, Connor’s frame visibly straightened, and he finally spoke.

“Authorization Code?” his voice had no inflection, no tone, sounding every bit like the damn machine that he hadn’t been in nearly two years.

Hank sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Code 092329.”

He watched Connor’s LED whirl another cycle of yellow, and then the android nodded once.

“Confirmed. Prepared to receive instructions.” The soulless, flat sound of his voice made Hank’s skin crawl.

Even before the revolution, Connor hadn’t been this robotic. Hank hated it, but Connor seemed to be fully functional and operating aside from…from being asleep as far as he could guess…He had to jog him out of this before he hurt himself or did some other damage.

Resigned to it, Hank stepped up to stand in Connor’s line of sight. “Go lie down on the couch and reboot. Now. That’s an order.”

Immediately, Connor was turning away from the refrigerator and taking long, even strides over to the living room. Hank followed closely behind him, just in case his programming decided to make him walk out the front door instead…or worse, THROUGH the front door.

Instead, obediently, Connor reached the couch, turned around, and stiffly sat down on it. He promptly laid down along the length of it, closed his eyes, and went limp as he rebooted his entire system. That gave Hank about five minutes to figure out what the entire fuck to do…

He plucked up the mushy bag of ice water and carried it into the kitchen, dropping it in the sink to deal with later. He grabbed up a few kitchen towels and mopped up the puddle in front of the couch, before tossing them in the sink too. He double checked that Connor, in his thoroughly unconscious but still mobile state, hadn’t fucked around with anything else in the house like…putting cereal boxes in the oven or taking down all of the curtains in the house…both such things that Hank’s ex-wife had done on separate occasions when she had slept walked at their old house.

Connor was just starting to twitch and sigh as he came back online when Hank refilled another ice bag, carrying it into the living room. He set it on the coffee table and sat down on the edge of the table himself. The rigidity had sapped out of Connor’s body as he came back around, and he was back to looking like any other sick guy slumped on the couch, feeling tired and hot and shitty.

“Hank?” he spoke before opening his eyes, his brow pinching together.

“Yeah, right here,” Hank answered tiredly, feeling his forehead again, then his neck and his chest, over where his thirium pump was. “You know where you are?”

“Home?” Connor struggled his eyes open, blinking blearily up at Hank.

Mercifully, his eyes were focused this time, and they stayed on Hank as he stared at him in confusion.

“You asking me, or telling me?” Hank prompted. “You were sleepwalking. Since when do androids sleepwalk?”

Connor’s eyes widened. “I…was?”

“Motherfucker, you were blasting Britney Spears and the goddamn Spice Girls in here. I hope to fuck you were sleepwalking, otherwise what the Hell?”

Connor slowly lifted a hand to cover his mouth, though the crinkling near the corners of his eyes gave away the amused grin he was trying to hide.

“You think this is funny? Are you still high?” Hank tried to stay gruff, though his hands were gentle as he slid the ice bag over Connor’s chest. “Hold that.”

Connor used his free hand to situate the bag better over his overheating core, and he exhaled in a short snort. “Sorry, Hank…I wasn’t…aware I was doing that.”

“That’s usually how sleepwalking works,” Hank muttered, losing the battle with staying irritated, and smirked. “They really gave you the good drugs, huh?”

“Apparently.”

Hank chuckled at that, patting Connor’s shoulder. “How’s your system temperature?”

Connor paused as he ran a diagnostic. “It peaked at a hundred and three point four—“

“Fucking Hell, I’m sorry, Connor. I should have been checking on you—“

“That’s unnecessary—“

“What if Zombie You had decided to leave the house? Drive the car?”

Connor slouched a bit, casting his eyes to the edge of the coffee table. “You’ve made your point. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t—Don’t apologize,” Hank sighed and gave him a onceover. “Feeling better? You still look like shit—“

A yellow LED, and then the radio was snapping back to life.

“—Color my hair. Do what I dare. Oh, oh, oh! I wanna be free, yeah. Feel the way I feel!...Man, I feel like a woman.”

It just as abruptly clicked itself off that time, and Hank looked from Connor, to the radio, and back to Connor.

“I didn’t…mean to do that,” Connor confessed, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’m having difficulty…focusing…I might still be under the influence of the pain killers.”

Hank snorted, chuckled, and then kicked back a bit with a full laugh. “Might?” He cackled and shook his head. “Well, now Shania has made her appearance too…Anybody else you want to invite to the party?”

“What…party?”

Hank rubbed a hand over his own face, the combination of the late hour and the ridiculous circumstances making him feel loopy too.

“Nevermind. What’s your temperature now?”

“One hundred even,” Connor reported, exhaustion sliding back over his face and into his voice as well. “And…dropping.”

Hank saw him starting to fade, and he patted his knee, standing up and returning to the kitchen. He made up two more smaller ice bags and brought them into the living room. He planted one over Connor’s forehead, letting him situate it however he wanted as he slid the second one under the back of his neck.

“I’m perfectly stable, Hank. You can go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you,” Connor was mumbling now.

Hank untangled the abandoned blanket, dropping it over Connor’s legs, in easy reach if he got a chill later on.

“No chance, pal. I’m gonna park it over there in the recliner, just to make sure you don’t sleepwalk again and decide to remove all the lightbulbs in the house.”

“Why would I—“

Hank waved a hand, and Connor fell quiet, watching him as Hank turned off the kitchen light and turned on a small lamp in the living room to see by. Sumo watched him as well, the big lug never getting up during all the commotion. Hank got comfortable in the recliner and gave Connor a thumb up gesture.

“Go to sleep, son…And, hey…I’ve got a rule in this house, that when you’re sick, you get to watch what you want and listen to whatever music you want. So…go nuts.” He waved at the dark television. “I’ve slept through worse than 90s pop music, and if that’s what makes you feel better, go ahead. Just…keep it under a dull roar next time.”

Connor made a low, noncommittal noise, and Hank watched him wiggle around on the couch briefly. He found a more comfortable position on his side, curling around the bag of ice at his chest. He closed his eyes with a sigh, and the blue of his LED began to slow as he re-entered rest mode.

God, he was ridiculous.

Hank smiled and felt a rush of warm affection for the kid.

Sumo yawned loudly and lay his head back down with a soft sigh, going back into his own rest mode.

The LED spun yellow once, and this time Hank braced himself. Fortunately, the radio came awake much more quietly, playing the same old station as before, but with more mercy on his ears.

“—no love from me. Hangin' out the passenger side of his best friend's ride, trying to holla at me…I don't want no scrub…”

“If I wake up with this stuck in my head, you’re walking to work,” Hank mumbled playfully.

On the couch, without opening his eyes, Connor gave a tiny grin. Hank caught it and smirked, settling in to spend the rest of the night keeping an eye on his ill friend, to the soundtrack of his teenage years.

Fucking ridiculous.