#Mylie

[simseasons]

Miley Button

[midastouches]

Joe -> Taylor // Paul Mescal -> Phoebe Bridget's // Paul, Joe and Andrew Scott had a group chat called "Tortured Man Club" // Tourtured Poets Department

im just scared. that's all. she's been holding this for TWO YEARS.

TWO FUCKING YEARS!!!

[peakatseven]

me getting a post notification: OH MY GOD SHES BACK

happy new album!!!

IM BACK FOR THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENTS AND ALL THE PAIN IT HOLDS

[theportablejohn]

[assortedmelons]

Celebrity Melons

[yesisgreat]

[playboidg05]

GEEK

[martygraciesversion381]

hi everyone!!❤️ gonna ask u a lil favour...if you like taylor, gracie and olivia you should check out this singer❤️ her name's mylie grace she is amazing and desevres way more fame❤️ plsss go listen to her music❤️ love uuu❤️

[azleo71]

[musicmags]

[simseasons]

Wintertime.

[midastouches]

anywho everyone wish @peakatseven the best time ever at her tswift concert tonight I hope you get the best surprise songs babe 🥰

[peakatseven]

slut. at the bottom. you heathen. HOW CAN YOU RANK THESE

Im not saying it's bad, this is 1989 tv we're taking about but someone has to go down and its not gonna be say dont go or is it over now?

[agathacrispies]

Myli Lew on Beam during day 1 of the senior women's competition at the 2023 U.S. Gymnastics Championships

(IMAGO)

[coolcattime]

AU Snippet December: Day Fifteen!

Mianite Your Turn to Die AU!

The room is large, a circular chamber with doors leading into it from every direction. The whole area lit in a deep blue light, something that could perhaps be calming if not for the scene playing out.

Podiums shaped like hourglasses look like they had once formed a circle in the centre of the room, but half of them were now knocked over and scattered around the room as if they had been thrown or shoved out of the way. It looked as though there had been a fight, but the actual people in the room almost all stood as if they were physically frozen to the spot.

There were thirteen in total, ten stood around the edge of the circle where the desks would've once been. Most looked normal, the kind of people you could pass everyday on the street without thinking about it.

A man in business attire doing his best to shield his teenage daughter's eyes. A woman with lilac hair wearing a long scarf similarly holding back a teenage boy. An older man with green-rimmed glasses, staring on as if all the wind had been knocked out of him.

There were a couple who would normally draw the eye.

A woman in punk clothing, adorned with heavy makeup and piercings staring as if she couldn’t commit to anger or horror. A man in a prison jumpsuit, a ball and chain wrapped up around his right leg and waist as if it was a belt not a restraint, seeming unable to settle between disbelief and disgust.

 Importantly though, there seemed to be nothing that the ten had in common enough to be in this room together. Though there were two things that were true of all of them.

One was that all had fixed around their necks identical metal collars. And the other was that all their eyes were locked on the three in the middle.

Two boys were the two currently in the spotlight, university students who had surely started that day laughing together between studies. Now one lay in a bloody heap, pale and unresponsive, more wounds across his body than anyone could survive. The other was fruitlessly trying to stop the blood flow, begging his already gone friend to just hang on a little longer.