#angles like you Miley Cyrus

[lintwriting]

"Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart" and "Love Like You": The Poetry of Envy

by Mitski and Rebecca Sugar respectively

"Comparison is the thief of joy," and "Of all the seven deadly sins, only Envy is no fun at all." In the moment, envy is all the pain of humbled pride and none of its glamor, with only schadenfreude as a reprieve.

But what if you sat with that envy and accepted the humbling, instead of praying for someone else's downfall?

What if you grew to love that which you envied? What if they loved you back? What if you humbled yourself and matured past that petty need?

Well, there's pain in that, too.

Mitski and Rebecca Sugar know it well. They approach it from completely different angles, but it's surprising how closely they match in conclusion: There's a special kind of drama in the pain of disappointing someone you think is better than you.

(And behind it all is self-hatred.)

Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart by Mitski

This song is an apology for ever failing to appreciate someone (or cheating on them), and as you listen to each verse, Mitski is singing in real time on how she's learning to humble herself.

Unlike the soulful croons of Bruno Mars's "When I Was Your Man," which is an ode to the break-up regret caused by feeling lonely again, like he's begging to come back now that he's seen you with someone else, Mitski's verse is less a reaction to her own loneliness and more self-flagellation, like we're listening to a therapy session wherein she explains why she treated you wrong in the first place.

Maybe this is why Miley Cyrus wrote a girlboss anthem ("I can buy my own flowers") in response to Bruno ("I should've bought you flowers") and not Mitski ("You can see how it's blossomed for you")/s.

To tell this story, Mitski uses repeating refrains to contextualize the previous, recreating the experience of maturing enough to see your past mistakes and taking advantage of the structure of songs.

The most important repeated line within the song is "There's nobody better than you."

It opens the song, is directed at her ex-lover, and it contradictorily sounds like she's questioning their worth.

Because that is a BOLD statement.

Really Mitski? There's nobody? Nobody at all better than 'you?'

Mitski admits to this boldness with the next line: "It took me a while 'til I knew."

That there is what she's apologizing for—a failure to appreciate them. A microcosm of the song in the first two lines.

Her mistake is direct contrast with her lover, who "knew from the start it was us, didn't you?"

This is how Mitski characterizes what makes her lover the best.

The undisputed number one person whom no one can be "better than" is simply someone who had faith in 'us,' in Mitski.

All the while Mitski makes excuses: "It just took me a while 'till I knew"

The ambiguity of the phrase is useful. Not “took too long” but just “a while.” 

“Just” is also an excusatory statement. I just forgot. I just didn’t notice. Just protects pride. This is a prideful thing to say, to be in the position to judge someone (and failing to judge them correctly)

Skipping to the chorus, the refrain is:

And I don't blame you

If you want to bury me in your memory

The first time you hear this, it's Mitski describing the pain of understanding why someone would want to forget you.

I'm not the girl I ought to be, but

"Ought" is doing a lot of the heavy lifting, implying a failure to do good.

Maybe when you tell your friends

You can tell them what you saw in me

And not how I turned out to be

This ‘saw in me’ transforms "bury me in your memory" from a line about forgetting Mitski to a line about only keeping alive the memory of what Mitski could’ve been—her lover's idealized version of her. 

In effect, she wants to kill and bury that part of herself that failed to justify her lover's faith in her, the part that disappointed them. Self-hatred!

Thus, "ought to be" and "not how I turned out to be" become lines about failing to meet their expectations. This last line is the one that changes meaningfully with each refrain, recontextualizing the previous. In the next chorus, she sings:

And not the way I am

Instead of "not how I turned out to be."

With "Turned out to be" in the past tense and "I am" in the present tense, the changing of lines indicate a progression of time.

Not only a progression of time, but growth over that time as well, since "I am" creates the sense that Mitski is actively accepting that she was at fault for the break-up, while "turned out to be" created the sense that she was distancing herself from that before through its passive voice.

With the introduction of "I am," she demonstrates, in comparison, how much "turned out to be" protected her pride, recreating the experience of maturing enough to see the past clearly.

In the last chorus, she sings:

But could we be what we're meant to be?

I'm just about to beg you, please

And then, when you tell your friends

You can tell them what you saw in me

And not the way I used to be

With the last refrain of the chorus, she's begging to come back and be the couple her lover believed in, but it's to demonstrate that she's changed for the better, not just because she's lonely or jealous.

This is because the focus is on how, instead of "way I am," it's "way I used to be." She's recontextualizing herself as having matured, once again, past her previous mindset.

In this case, she's saying it'll be different this time because she's buried who she "used to be," or the self that didn't appreciate them as she should've. And she proves it with the last line that bookends the song:

'Cause there is nobody better than you

In effect, the whole song is a thesis on why there really is "nobody better than you," and THAT in itself proves that she's changed! It's a song about the lowering of herself and her pride, of recognizing that they're better than her, and of recognizing the pain of having disappointed them because of how much better they are.

Love Like You by Rebecca Sugar

One of the best parts about this song is the way it truly works as an ED song to Steven Universe. It, in effect, is the theme of the whole show, and therefore it works to embody the ...theme of the whole show, which is the transformative power of love.

This song can basically represent the relationship between any two characters in the show in BOTH directions—Rose Quartz and Greg Universe, Greg and Steven, Steven and the Gems, Steven and The Diamonds, etc. And it's such a poignant message as well, managing to create depth with nuances like how self-hatred affects your ability to love, the importance of connection in healing from trauma, and even the limiting nature of only having one perspective—again, all those being themes within the show itself.

Video by Let's Talk Cartoons that talks about this theory that it's about Rose. This theory is right, but misses the point that EVERYONE deals with this in the show lol not just Rose.

If I could begin to be

Half of what you think of me

These two lines are a microcosm of the song, as Mitski's first two lines were, and, like Mitski's song, it's about the disappointment of someone who has faith in you. Someone better than you, as implied by the next two lines.

I could do about anything

I could not put this any better than Rebecca Sugar has already put it, which is characteristic of good poetry!

They think of you so highly that achieving even half of their expectations would be hanging the damn moon! What I'd like to bring your attention to is that it's the same characterization that Mitski used for her lover—part of what makes them so amazing is simply how much faith they put in you!

Within Steven Universe, everybody has had experiences with betrayal of trust and the resulting fear of ever putting your faith in someone again. So this kind of earth-shattering faith can seem naive, but doing so with full knowledge of its pain reveals a kind of invulnerability and confidence that would make someone seem someone god-like, hence your idolization of them.

I could even learn how to love

This line is the one that gets recontextualized over the course of the song, like Mitski's "There's nobody better than you." The idea that someone loves poorly or can't love, though I will say, is beautiful and relatable.

The next refrain of it:

I could do about anything

I could even learn how to love like you

"Like you" is the magic phrase!

Because while they have a god-like faith in others, being on the receiving end of it—that's buoying, too! Much like people have "faith" in god, your idolization of them represents your own earth-shattering faith in the opposite direction! It's a mutual idolization! You're loving "like them." It's a faith that spurs you to do better in return!

But better than what? That's where the verse comes in:

I always thought I might be bad

Now I'm sure that it's true

'Cause I think you're so good

And I'm nothing like you

Comparison is the thief of joy, and unfortunately you've compared yourself to them and found you don't measure up. You're using your faith in them for your own self-deprecation. But, this is tempered by the next lines.

I just adore you

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I'm so special

The last one is a conflict resolving line. It reveals that this painful, comparison-based self-hatred isn't just something you're doing, but something they could be doing as well, as it highlights that the faith is mutual. That although you think they're special, they think you are, too!

And therefore that—since you're so alike—that they could also be struggling with the pain of thinking they're not enough. It's this mutual aspect that makes this song sing, why it works so well to connect basically all the characters of the show in any combination.

This is further supported by the next refrain:

I would do about anything

I would even learn how to love

When I see the way you look

Shaken by how long it took

I could even learn how to love like you

The fact that the "Love like you" refrain follows this "mutual" revelation then implies that loving IS truly "seeing" them by seeing yourself in them, and the way this relationship/self-hatred/revelation is mirrored on this other side.

You're both shaken by how long this took!

Love like you

Love me like you

And this line is the natural end of this line of thought. You can't learn to love without loving yourself first, but being loved and loving in return can teach you how to love yourself. You can learn how to love yourself by following their lead.

But also-- in this song, to love someone else means you see yourself in them—and therefore you learn to love the part of you that's in them.

Comparative Analysis

Mitski's "nobody better than you" and "took me a while 'till I knew" and Sugar's "nothing like you" and "love like you" are repeated throughout the song as symbols of their object of envy.

They're better than you because of their faith in you, in contrast to your own disappointment in yourself. To reach their level, you have to learn to have faith, either in them (Mitski) or yourself (Rebecca Sugar).

There are slight differences. While in Sugar's version, their faith in you helps you respect yourself, Mitski's is about learning to reciprocate her lover's faith to restore her faith in herself, as she's starting the song from a place of unfaithfulness and regret. Her self-hatred is less self-destructive and more a motivator to improve. In Sugar's song, the threat of disappointment/unfaithfulness looms in the background, but the singer didn't actually disappoint. Or if they did, their 'idol' is strong enough to still have faith in them, in spite of that.

In the end, it's a healing of envy, of the sin of comparing yourself to others. Because the answer isn't taking them down, or stewing in your own self-hatred, it's learning to accept yourself where you're at.

Whether it's by embracing your flaws and improving, or loving the part of you that you see in them.

[wiiildflowerrr]

Making the Old Me music video for 5 Seconds Of Summer

Kieran Fowler NZCS ACS on filming with 5 Seconds of Summer (Australian Cinematographer Magazine)

'5 Seconds of Summer were really down to earth dudes. It was an absolute pleasure working with them. They made the shoot very pleasant and enjoyable.'

'...In my initial conversations with Lux-Davis, we talked about capturing a sense of nostalgia and journey through time. She showed me a lot of older photographic work from the 1980s and late 1990s. Some of it was pretty funky and looked cross-processed. There were also these iconic images of bands photographed on wide angles with the entire image circle in shot. I loved it, for some reason it reminded me of music videos from when I was growing up.

5 Seconds of Summer were really down to earth dudes. It was an absolute pleasure working with them. They made the shoot very pleasant and enjoyable. At first, I was quite nervous about working with Lux-Davis, with a portfolio like hers. She’s directed iconic videos for some of the biggest names in pop music in America like Ariana Grande, Nicki Minaj and Miley Cyrus...

...I first met Lux-Davis on the location scout which was a whirlwind of a day, scouting a heap of different locations. We hit it off well. We didn’t get much pre-production time together, but she had a very clear vision and passion for the project that was infectious. Whilst mainly responding to her photographic references, I did look into Todd Phillips’ The Joker (2019, cinematography by Lawrence Sher ACS), as I loved the film’s treatment of colour. It felt in the palette of classic photographic film emulsion...

...The final shot of the video was a very special moment. It was honestly the closest feeling I’ve had to feeling like a rock star, walking out behind the band into a 70,000 crowd stadium. It was such an adrenaline rush. It was not only the best way to end the music video but also the shoot. It was such a huge buzz.

We only needed to capture one shot, but the label and the director wanted me to try and capture more. I ended up on stage for most of the performance. I was honestly waiting for security to pull me off the stage, as I was right up there with lead singer Luke Hemmings and definitely overstaying my welcome. If you look back at the live broadcast of the concert I’m running around in shot and ruining all of the coverage.

I genuinely don’t think I would change anything with the benefit of hindsight. The clip ended up getting me a nomination for the MTV Video Music Award for Best Cinematography, which is much more than I expected from this opportunity, so I must have done something right.'

Full interview, with all the techy stuff, HERE.

[quillbriar]

Fellow fruity grace x Steph shippers, what are some songs that you associate with them?

For me, Could’ve Should’ve Would’ve by Taylor Swift

As well as Angles Like You by Miley Cyrus

Not sure what other ones

[ladyelephant-12]

Listen to “Angles like you” by Miley Cyrus and imagine Regulus thinking about James.

This is heartbreaking

[the-firebird69]

The Rock DESTROYS Kurt Angle #therock #kurtangle #wwe #ufc #stonecold #j...

You know Kurt Angle handle it pretty good and he just sat there for the rest of the thing and boy it was The Rock was slamming him I mean this is our son's stuff not the Rock and he says you're right there what is he doing I said nothing is he like not looking at you or something he said no way and he started to giggle what he said what is this guy doing he's listening to him he's like what are you saying this for and he started laughing you said you shrunk and he doesn't know who you are so he said I used to be about four inches taller and code and The Rock said what in the hell are you doing down there and it was weird cuz he said we are all shrinking it says that's really a simple one is bug juice in the water no matter what you do the damn stuff you have to boil it and he said no s*** and it's that all these bugs in the aquifer is the most disgusting thing you've ever seen so people start doing the time on the bugs and it still are we have a lot of bugs around here and we're getting rid of them we need a lot of help probably have a 1/8 of them out only

Thor Freya

Olympus

We have to do bug patrol and really people have to go out and get them a lot of people drink the blood and should collect them

Trump

I'm going to go ahead and do that

Brad

We need a ton of them and we do freeze it

Miley Cyrus

Olympus

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 30/03/2024 (Future & Metro Boomin's WE DON'T TRUST YOU, Olivia Rodrigo's GUTS (spilled) and Hozier)

Benson Boone takes a hold of the top of the UK Singles Chart for the second week with “Beautiful Things” and it’s a big, messy week that I’m too tired to deal with so welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with our notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 - which is what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40 and given this week was somewhat of a busy one, we do have a fair few to bid adieu, namely: “Going Home” (Theme from Local Hero) by Mark Knopfler’s Guitar Heroes because the charity single never lasts long, “I Will” by Central Cee, “ONE CALL” by Rich Amiri, “Homesick” by Noah Kahan and Sam Fender on the duet version, “One of the Girls” from The Idol by The Weeknd, JENNIE and Lily-Rose Depp, “leavemealone” by Fred again.. and Baby Keem, “DNA (Loving You)” by Billy Gillies featuring Hannah Boleyn, “vampire” by Olivia Rodrigo, “Flowers” by Miley Cyrus and of course, “Someone You Love” by Lewis Capaldi. It’s a mixed bag, but I’m mostly glad to see new hits flushing in and taking care of some of these older, longer-running tracks.

Thanks to our 10 new songs landing mostly at the front of the chart, we don’t see any returns and not that many big gains either, but it is worth to comment on the boosts for “Been Like This” by Meghan Trainor and T-Pain at #50, “Happier” by The Blessed Madonna and Clementine Douglas at #40, “Back on 74” by Jungle landing yet another run at #32, “Green & Gold” by Rudimental and Skepsis featuring Charlotte Plank and Riko Dan at #30, “Von dutch” by Charli XCX at #27 thanks to a pretty great A.G. Cook remix and “Birds in the Sky” by NewEra at #23.

This week’s top five on the UK Singles Chart is largely not affected by everything below it, as we have “End of Beginning” by Djo at #5, “we can’t be friends (wait for your love)” by Ariana Grande, “TEXAS HOLD ‘EM” by Beyoncé, “Lose Control” by Teddy Swims at #2 and of course, Booner Boy at the very top. Yet just at #6, we have a new arrival so that should better display how this week is going to go. Let’s just dive into it.

New Entries

#58 - “stranger” - Olivia Rodrigo

Produced by Dan Nigro

Now a major reason to why this week feels so exhausting is that over half of our new songs are from the same two albums, that are at #3 and #2 in the singles chart right now: Olivia Rodrigo’s deluxe release of GUTS with a few extra songs and the newest collaborative record by Future and Metro Boomin, WE DON’T TRUST YOU, which I actually cared to listen to. I decided it would even be a better idea to split up my writing time into the three categories instead of in chart position order: tackling the three songs from O-Rod, the trio from the duo and… the other four. It’s nearly even. These are also two not particularly interesting albums to have three songs to talk about. I’ll talk more about Future when the time comes, but these are just three bonus tracks from an album I didn’t even like so just imagine my excitement when I have to talk about them. This one’s about… moving on from a past relationship, of course, demonstrating said ex-partner as a complete stranger that she no longer has any real emotional investment towards. I like the writing here, it’s less wordy than usual and feels really natural over the airy acoustic guitar. Dare I say it’s got a bit of a wispy country twang to it that adds some edge. The organic instrumentation in the back of the second chorus onwards is sweet even if I’d prefer it was pushed further to the front of the mix, I love the dynamics of the bridge and ultimately, the mundane yet really powerful and heathily bitter angle O-Rod takes here is pretty resonant. I have no idea why this didn’t close the standard edition of the album, it’s pretty excellent actually.

#54 - “Belong Together” - Mark Ambor

Produced by Mark Ambor and Noel Zancanella

We actually continue with feathery teeny-bopper Americana as this is the breakout hit for singer-songwriter Mark Ambor, going for a folkish stomp-rock tune that is a pretty good Noah Kahan riff if not anything else. I’m not into the more jovial, head-empty frolick of the upbeat side of this genre, especially not when it’s sung by people who sound like Disney teen stars but hey, this has got a much stickier chorus than many of those Disney Channel original movies could ever dream of. His voice does reach some nice rasps amidst the crowd vocals and it really is just being carried by the admirable hook because other than that constant, this is barely a notable song, at less than two and a half minutes with non-descript lyrics and a professional but not grippingly detailed production. It really just is a bonfire sing-a-long and fits that function perfectly. I’ll be real: this was embarrassingly close to getting Best of the Week on that hook alone. It is undeniable.

#42 - “Slow it Down” - Benson Boone

Produced by Jason Evigan, Connor McDonough and Riley McDonough

There were two real possibilities with this one: I hate it and regret everything nice I said about “Beautiful Things”, or I like it and I just end up being a Benson Boone fan now. A Booner Boy. A Benson Booner. A Boonemobile. I didn’t really know which option was more embarrassing, but with the McDonough fellows on production, I really thought the first was more likely. When I heard the faster-paced pianos, the condescending tone of the lyrics, that really awkward Jesus line and some of the Lewis Capaldi-esque inflections, I was worried… but Goddamn it, he’s done it again. Sure, it’s not as wholesome as “Beautiful Things”, but the pairing of the lyrics wanting to slow everything down and take life at its own pace against his almost manic, shifting vocal delivery that gets really rough at times, and the incessant nature of much of the instrumentation, is all a pretty inspired songwriting choice, and it gets the uneven tone off really well. It sounds nothing like it but thematically, it reminds me of “Wait” by Maroon 5 in how its uncertainty can barely be contained the restraints of its format but they really are trying to keep it in the box, until that excellent, just pummelling final chorus that makes me really want to hear Boonetunes do some hard rock or glam metal one day. He’s got a voice for it. I’m embarrassed to say it, and it’s not as good as his current #1, but it’s a good song. I’m sorry.

#24 - “so american” - Olivia Rodrigo

Produced by Dan Nigro

That is not an exciting title and what do you know, this is more of the flowery pop rock that doesn’t seem to know where the line of its edge lands exactly, like I’d expected. This is a post-punk-esque track with a blank-feeling rhythm section and really flat bass that just runs through the motions until it reaches a chorus climax point that still just chugs along despite all the non-descript swell that’s behind it. It’s about a very specific celebrity crush that uses lovestruck nonsense-singing to finish off its refrain, and I’m just not in the market for this. I could not care less about this uber-specific compliment that she decides to make the conceit of the song… despite the fact that it barely shows up outside of the chorus. I love bubblegum pop rock sometimes, one of my favourite albums of all time is by Helen Love. This just doesn’t have the right guitar hook or lyrical detail - that isn’t odd and honestly somewhat off-putting - to keep me from really getting into this. It’s not bad and really, there could be a great song made out of some of these elements, they just might not have been in the right hands. Sorry.

#20 - “Cinderella” - Future and Metro Boomin featuring Travis Scott

Produced by Metro Boomin, Dre Moon and Allen Ritter

WE DON’T TRUST YOU is fine. In fact, it’s actually damn good at times and mostly a pretty serviceable, atmospheric trap record. The added cinematics from Metro dampen the bangers but largely add a twinkle to the gleaming pop songs found around the middle, that were actually mostly my favourites. Future is, to me at least, at his best being just impressively catchy. He has a singular voice  that sounds surprisingly rich reciting these cuter, cloud rap melodies and Metro’s pop sensibilities mean that he knows exactly when, how and what to switch up throughout. At its best, the album is careening and hypnotic, but there’s a lot of attempts at menace here, as is to be expected, and that blend of opulence and violence from Future has never hit that well for me without pop hooks behind it, especially given that it’s not just Future under-performing on these tracks, it’s Metro. I’ll discuss more of that in the next entry because it is incredibly obvious in that one, but the appeal of “Cinderella”, which lands pretty much smack-dab in the middle of the album and fully in that leaned-out pop section that I loved. I don’t think there’s a single quotable from either artist, and the beat is not even that interesting: its appeal is really simple. The melodic leads are cute, the trap beat is immense enough to absorb most of the energy but not act as an obstacle between Future and the melodies behind him, and his flow is possessive of the brain, I swear to God, it’s been in my head all week. Oh, yeah, and Travis Scott is here, I guess. I like his vocal layering on here, I suppose, and he really meshes with the closing, misty detail that the track ends with. It’s not my favourite - that would probably be a toss up between “Slimed In” and “Runnin’ Outta Time”, but it’s pretty great.

#18 - “Type Shit” - Future and Metro Boomin featuring Travis Scott and Playboi Carti

Produced by Metro Boomin, D. Rich and MIKE DEAN

In the context of the album, this song is dreadful. It’s not a momentum killer - rather, it’s a continuation of a long-dead momentum in the most excruciating way. It comes after “Ice Attack”, which starts with a droning beat even Future is already bored of, so bored in fact that he changes the beat to an even more rote and basic one that is a very similar tempo and groove as the track that it seamless transitions into, which is of course, “Type Shit”, where pretty much all of Future’s performance and most of Playboi Carti’s, in his hit-or-miss deep voice, is based on the same flow, cadence and lyric. It really had me worried for the rest of the album. Outside of the context, it’s still awful: here’s where Metro misunderstands how to make a beat interesting: adding loops onto other loops, all of which are incredibly one-note and cheap, just makes it sound like a lot of noise over muddily-mixed drums that sound genuinely awful. Whilst not applying greatly to this particular track, Metro tends to make some elements of these beats way busier than the others, leading to an ugly dissonance where it feels like he’s more pre-occupied with sound effects. Our only respite from this drone is Travis Scott delivering a reference vocal over MIKE DEAN synths and whilst I’ll take that over Carti most days, it’s not particularly attention-capturing or all that well implemented into the rest of the track, just an extended malformed interlude that has no business being here other than making sure the entire song isn’t insufferable. Also, “posted up with my dogs, Scooby-Doo type shit”? I appreciate that Carti is actually trying to form sentences now but his smug, deeper tone he prefers as of late just makes his failure at doing so even more embarrassing.

#13 - “i like the way you kiss me” - Artemas

Produced by Artemas, Kevin White and Daintree

I guess all Artemas really needed was that one small breakout single to really grow big with his next release, as this debuted way bigger than I expected. I thought “if u think i’m pretty” was at least okay, so I had some hopes for this and no, I don’t like this at all. I like darker synthpop bullet trains like this sometimes - Gesaffelstein released an album literally today that had some elements of this - but Artemas’ pained, pre-teen delivery cannot sell this if it had normal lyrics and more extensive, detailed production, let alone with muddy, cheap nothingness and a chorus that is about how Artemas “hits it from the back so you don’t get attached”. Ew. I get this is going for a toxic lover persona, but it is just embarrassing for him trying to go for it, especially when he attempts a malformed guitar solo later like God, actually stop trying for whatever this is. I don’t like saying a song is cringeworthy because other demographics will resonate with it but… come on. What is this? Who is this for?

#10 - “obsessed” - Olivia Rodrigo

Produced by Dan Nigro

Now this is the big attempt at a single from this deluxe release, enlisting St. Vincent on writing and going for a vibe similar to “bad idea, right?”, right down to the stop-start songwriting that made that one so frustrating. There’s a sicker guitar riff to this one at least, it feels a bit grimier and almost eerie with O-Rod’s obsessive lyrics surrounding how jealous she is of her partner’s ex-boyfriend… yet it never feels like it goes anywhere meaningful. It has the additional edge of sounding slightly mentally ill and sapphic simultaneously - I can relate to that - but the chorus just isn’t there - or more accurately, there’s not an attempt to make a coherent one. The entire track very much builds up to that chorus as a focal point but it blows out too much to resonate and loses some of the impact of its implosion. It’s much better than “bad idea, right?” because it’s not as incessant and is less tasteful in its subject matter, but it suffers from the same struggle of calculating how much to restrain in what should be an anthem for self-destruction. It’s decent, but I really wish I liked it more.

#8 - “Too Sweet” - Hozier

Produced by Bēkon, Hozier, Chakra, Sergiu Gherman and Peter Gonzales

Hozier, similarly to O-Rod, dropped some outtakes and bonus tracks from last year’s album - the difference here is that the songs smashed out of nowhere and this single in particular is looking to be his biggest hit since “Take Me to Church”, which is now a decade old. That’s scary. It may benefit from its conceptual similarities to “Eat Your Young”, which was a minor hit, as they both examine excessive greed, however in this song, the space is shared between two clashing perspectives, one of which is focused on discipline and the other on simple pleasures, with the two perspectives seemingly in a metaphorical relationship. I do think we see more of the unhealthy side of the narrative, particularly because of how those two perspectives influence the narrator, potentially Hozier, to take his life more seriously. Musically, this has a brilliant, infectious organic bass guitar over a fleeting almost trip hop funk. Hozier’s less rhythmic and arguably airy performance here surprised me initially, but he soaks into the feathery choir vocals that end up backing him and make this song really sound like the narrator has little control, being commanded by two contrasting forces until that decisive chorus that truly succeeds at being an anthem. Some of the lyrics in the second verse are a tad on-the-nose and take me out of the song’s overall theme, which arguably stagnates for its second half due to the lack of a true thematic - or really sonic - conclusion, but given I’m listening to it outside of the album’s full context, I feel like this is going to inevitably be a reaction I have, so it feels a tad presumptuous to say it’s a flaw in the track, which is otherwise pretty much flawless. I think this is sticking around and God, wouldn’t that be wonderful? Fantastic song.

#6 - “Like That” - Future and Metro Boomin featuring Kendrick Lamar

Produced by Metro Boomin

Yeah, I don’t like this one either. Now this song is hypothetically, very good. I liked having the surprise of Kendrick when the features weren’t initially credited, and this beat is not dead on arrival, majorly because it’s someone else’s beat. This samples the classic 80s rap track “Everlasting Bass” by Rodney O and Joe Cooley - and General Jeff - but the problem is it decides to only effectively sample part of its really insane beat. For mid-late 1980s California, you can really tell where Memphis rap can grab from this, especially with those blaring klaxon synths, the basic but commanding beat, the nearly constant, playful vocal sampling and of course, that looming bass that is actually from Barry White but sounds terrifying here. “Like That” turns the mains melody of “Everlasting Bass” into an ugly siren resting on more modern and metallic trap percussion that just does not mesh properly. There’s an incessant buzz to everything that is not helped by the twirling Michel’le sample from Eazy-E’s “Eazy-Duz-It” which not only feels overdone but is just unnecessary here. Future is… barely here, mostly because we need to just set out a red carpet for this Kendrick Lamar verse, which I will admit, as always with Kendrick, has some incredible wordplay, and in the context of dissing Drake, I’m all for this cold verse, even if it just doesn’t fit that well over this beat. I mean, it fits more than Future because he has some of the character that the original did, which makes sense given Rodney O and Joe Cooley were from southern California as well. I like the line using members of The Click, that one’s really clever, and the André 3000 line is funny too, but after his verse, the song just malfunctions and refuses to piece itself back together. Metro fades the song out whilst Future is still clearly rapping, and at a higher energy than ever before so I have no idea why he did that. There are longer songs on the album, this one didn’t need to be cut short. Given that this is one of very few tracks on here that Metro is solely responsible for and it’s honestly kind of a trainwreck production-wise, I do have my concerns going forward.

Conclusion

Artemas gets the Worst of the Week for “i like the way you kiss me”, genuinely, what the fuck was that? Future, Metro, Travis and Carti bag the Dishonourable Mention for “Type Shit”, obviously, whilst Best of the Week is honestly kind of difficult. I think I’ll give it to Hozier for “Too Sweet” but with O-Rod close behind as an Honourable Mention with “stranger”. Beyoncé’s coming up next, folks, so be prepared for that, but for now, thanks for reading, long live Cola Boyy, and we’ll see you next week!

[itstherainbowstringsforme]

could someone maybe explain to me why taylor used a liam hemsworth lookalike in the 'wildest dreams' mv? and miley wildlife animals in her 'midnight sky' mv?

and why are they twinning like they are winning?

and why are karlie and miley working it out? or what tf are you working out?

and why is miley on karlies final countdown list?

and why is taylor timelining back to the hannah montanah movie?!

Taylor was 19 yo when the movie came out i don’t think i like it here very much

why did their love blackout start in like 2013 ost? the questions raised more questions and the more you say the less i know

mikey i do have questions a lot of questions but i’m not sure i want answers

🌋 if this was a movie, she’d be here by now … baby, what about the ending?? i think i’ve seen this film before. so i’m leaving out the side door !!!!!!!!!!!!! this doesn't sound like the happy ending i was hoping for -------- karlie didn't meet her man in 2012 - that's when they began again they met in 2008 ———- apparently filming hannah montanah began in April 2008 in Los Angeles, California and Columbia, Tennessee.

TENNESSSEEEEEE? TENNESSEEEEEEE?

fuck me

COLUMBIA?! NICE EVER HEARD OF THE COUNTRY CANADA? BRITISH COLUMBIA VANCOUVER Fri, Dec 6, 2024 Sat, Dec 7, 2024 Sun, Dec 8, 2024

there's a nice indie artist playing there - not super well known - so you might still be able to get tickets - it's always cool to say that you saw an artist perform before they were famous (that's actually true) but more because of the fact that concert venues are sometimes old churches - paradiso amsterdam - botanical gardens capetown-l'olympia les quais de Seine paris - sounds like reverse fun for an artist - i think miley can relate - cause girl i could feel the anxiety through the screen at that lollapalooza thing - wanted to come and drag u off thgat stage fuck that - looked like the longest panic attack in history - it should be used to show how unhealthy it is forcing young artists to go bigger and bigger fuck fame make art. pick your poison.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by FLETCHER (@findingxfletcher)

taylor do paradiso on yr gaylor pride tour pls - that’s flippin’ the script. ask fletcher it's pretty cool. she was too. blew me away. --------------------- i thought i was reaching big time with the connecting dots between my superheros - came out of nowhere - voids concrete walls story of my life - tumblr is on shuffle - taylor is apparently stuck in some time loop - good times good times - julien baker - this song really?! really?!

belle and sebastian addendum

wait.. wait.. wait.. this is turning into a live blog 'filming started in LA and ended in columbia' as in the three of you got fucked big time by the system in LA and this shits how/truman/open cage/prison life will end in columbia? eeeehm... karlos karlie karl sunshine giraffe? are you going to be in vancouver? please go sit in the real nosebleeds this time - we know you've been to half of the eras shows anyways -just to fuck with 'em AND BE ON THE FUCKING STAGE DURING KARMA! (MILEY CAN LEND YOU A JACKET! AND GAAAY IT UP! NOT FOR US FOR YOU! BUT ALSO FOR US! just give us call if they mess with you we’ll be there in no-time (if your wife flies a jet over to come and get us) - we can be your bodyguards or security - i'd like to stand where these two were standing during dress - or wherever, just not too far from that angle

mikey be surprise song guest!!! come oooon i don’t think i’ll survive if this sh*t would really happen -😂😂😂-

a broken lesbian love affair is enough for 83 lifetimes don’t add the ruined nashville party to the mix please seriously please - didn’t choose this town still didn’t choose this town. must’ve been the salvia girl the f* salvia. or just bein' stoned the whole f’ day in general. good girls be good. let us be us then✌️

mikey really was her bodyguard.

and taytay mikey’s biggest fan.

------- FULL FUCKING CIRCLE

(or triangle 😒?) PEACE OUT BROS ✌️

it’s not real. it can’t be. hell yeah it is. maybe?! thinking a lot of thoughts - took me ✌️ minutes (a tiny bit longer maybe) - closet fears are real - feels like a party for one - good thing i got my comfy bf jeans on - i’m still missing fifteen years of this story - love blackout 1.0 - what tf happened after this ‘date’?!

i really wish i hated you?! i can fix him? cold blooded. it’s madness. unreleased songs like from the vault? august?! just wake me up when december ends. belief system reset.

🌋

i knew it, i know you the ‘greap’ escape

————

i feel you taylor same here 😭

i’m also stuck in your timeloop

i keep going round and round on the same old circuit

🔄⤴️⤵️⤴️⤵️🔄

like carousel horses we’re set on our courses ———

my tumblr feels like it has been put on shuffle my brain too but what’s new 🫠

brb

PEACE OUT HOMIES ✌️

[kingshavenhqs]

you have been accepted! welcome to kings haven emira polat. make sure to follow the after acceptance steps and send your blog to the main within 24 hours. we can’t wait to see just what secrets you are hiding.

♕ ( none / 27 / female / she/her ) — did you see EMIRA POLAT wandering around the island today? they kind of look like OZGE YAGIZ from certain angles? i heard around town that the DANCE TEACHER is SOFT SPOKEN, and FUN-LOVING, but also SUSPICIOUS, and WORRYWART. people say that they remind them of SEQUIN DANCE UNIFORMS, SORE FEET, and BRAVE SMILES, and THE CLIMB by MILEY CYRUS is definitely their theme song. they seem like a nice enough person, but we all know how hard it is to keep a pristine reputation in a small town. ( bailey / 27 / EST / she/her )

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Night Crawling

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~3350

Warnings: Some explicit smutty goodness in a dive bar bathroom, some recreational drug use, some Sam feels. 

A/N: I really thought I was going to write PWP for once. As usual, some feels snuck in. Set at some vague point in Season 5. 

I’ve had the new Miley Cyrus album on repeat all day; inspiration, title, and bathroom graffiti quote all came from “Night Crawling.” Listen to that and “Gimme What I Want” if you want maximum ~atmosphere~ or whatever while reading. 

“Another?” Sam asks, leaning in to make himself heard over the music. He gives me a twisted, wicked version of his usual dimpled smile. There’s a drop of tequila clinging to his lip, and I want to lick it off. He’s so close. 

My head is still spinning from the last shot and from his attention. I shake it off. 

“Bathroom, I’ll be back,” I tell him. 

Sam’s in a fucking mood tonight. Not that I blame him. Time is ticking away, faster by the day it feels like; if Lucifer was after me, I’d take whatever escape I could get. 

Dean’s at the motel, hopefully putting some ice on his twisted ankle or maybe sleeping, and normally Sam would be fussing over him like an overgrown fucking mother hen. Instead, he suggested that we go “blow off some steam,” looking at me with this glint in his eyes, like he was daring me. 

So… here we are, getting fucked up in a grimy rock club, watching some Nine Inch Nails wannabes wail like a porn soundtrack over a dirty industrial bassline. 

Sam fucking Winchester. Always full of surprises. 

It’s one of those single-occupancy dive bathrooms where I don’t want to touch anything or, like, inhale too hard. It’s impossible to tell what color the walls originally were under the layers of concert flyers and graffiti. There’s probably enough cocaine residue on the chipped porcelain sink counter to get an elephant high. That kind of place. 

He wants me almost as much as I want him, I’m pretty sure, but I never thought either of us would act on it. Too many complications, too many ways to fuck it all up… now, though? The entire world is fucked. Might as well get laid before it all goes to shit.

Two lines of red Sharpie scrawl next to the mirror grab my attention: night crawling, sky falling, gotta listen when the Devil’s calling. 

Yeah. Well. 

I don’t think either of us will make it out of this alive, but he doesn’t want to. That’s what this is all about, really. He started this apocalypse. He’ll never forgive himself if he lives through it. I’ll never forgive him if he doesn’t. 

I wash my hands and splash some water on my cheeks, bracing myself. I can feel the chemicals kicking up my spine, now.

If Sam fucking Winchester needs to indulge his self-destructive streak and get out of his head for a night, I’ll keep him company. Fuck knows I’ll never say no to him. I’ll stay with him til the end, if he lets me. 

It hits me again: this is the end. The world is about to end, and that sweet, sexy, puppy-eyed motherfucker out there is at the center of all of it. Heaven, hell, good, evil… and Sam. If tonight is what we’ve got — if this is all we’ll ever get — I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted more, but… this’ll do. It’ll have to do. 

He’s slouching against the wall, right outside the bathroom hallway. He gives me this dark, hungry grin when he sees me, and maybe whatever was in that pastel blue pill is making itself known, or maybe it’s just Sam that’s sending a wave of prickly heat over my skin… either way, it feels good. 

“C’mon,” he says, passing me a cup of ice water, and then he’s gripping me by the wrist, pulling me into the crowd. 

Sam doesn’t dance, and he sure as hell doesn’t dance with me, but he’s not fucking around: hands on my waist, hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at me, cheeks flushed, moving with the beat. I rest my free hand on his upper arm, right where the swell of his bicep flexes against the soft cotton sleeve of his t-shirt, and I can’t help but squeeze slightly, feeling hot skin and muscle under my palm. I swallow hard. 

Sam leans in closer. I can smell him, the natural scent of his sweat under the spice of his deodorant, and it’s so overwhelming that I shiver. 

He gets his lips right up against my ear, the deep rumble of his voice a physical thing that I can feel as well as hear: “Ever just get sick of being yourself?” 

Jesus. 

“Yeah,” I mumble, mouth dry. I don’t know if he hears me but it doesn’t really matter. 

“I think too much. I don’t want to think tonight. Is that okay?” 

I suck in a breath. “Don’t need to explain, Sam. I get it.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, heavy-lidded, golden skin shining with sweat in the flecks of light coming off the disco ball. “Dance with me.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, Sam, anything you want.”

I toss back the cup of water, gulping it down, too eager; some of it trickles down my chin. I don’t care. I drop the cup and run my hand up Sam’s chest. His eyes flutter closed and he licks his lips, sinful, gorgeous. For a moment I think he might say something but instead he spins me around and hauls me closer, my back to his chest. 

The song is filthy, all thudding funk hooks and wild drums. There’s this frantic heat behind it that has me sinking under the surface, swimming through the riff, and the pulse of it wriggles down my spine and works itself out through my hips as I toss my head. It’s the kind of rhythm that’s made for sweating all over a stranger. 

Sam might as fucking well be a stranger right now. I never knew he could move like this. 

His hips swivel and twist, and his hands slide down to my thighs, pinning me against the solid muscled heat of his body. I feel reckless. I feel high and overstimulated and utterly fearless, and I can feel his touch echoing through me, inside me, throbbing down my belly to where I’m empty and suddenly aching. 

As soon as I think about it, the emptiness hits me hard. My cunt is clenching around nothing in time with the gritty slap of percussion. I arch my back and rub myself against Sam shamelessly. 

He’s hard against my ass, hard and getting harder with every shrieking lick of guitar, and the awareness of it sends a thrill down through the core of me, like a bolt of lightning striking between my legs. My breath catches and hisses out of my lungs like I’m a punctured balloon. I feel dizzy. 

It’s all so intense right now. Every inch of my skin is fizzing, and the simple curl of his fingers around my wrist has me shuddering like he’s stroking something much more intimate. 

On any other night I would try to step back, to get myself under control… I’d start thinking, and I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I’d get stuck in my head instead of giving in to the mind-blowingly intimate thrill of his fingertips pressing into my pulse. 

We’re not thinking tonight. I couldn’t think straight even if I wanted to. 

The beat changes, segueing into something low and slinking and goddamn obscene. I’m dripping with sweat — mine or Sam’s? I can’t tell — and my skin is on fire, and I want Sam in this awful, all-consuming way that I’ve never wanted anything or anyone.

So I don’t think about it; I just turn, twisting in his arms until we’re face to face, or rather, face to chest. He’s biting his lip, expression almost pained as he grips my waist and slots a thigh between mine. I snake my arms around his neck and roll my hips, feeling the seam of my jeans dragging up the sensitive spot between my legs, and I’m absurdly grateful for the way the music drowns out any embarrassing noise I might make. 

There’s a drop of sweat sliding down the corded muscle of his neck. It trickles to a glittering halt right at eye level, in the hollow of his throat, and I can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. I could fall down and worship whatever god invented the v-neck. 

I don’t fall to my knees, but I do lean forward and taste his skin. Salt floods my tongue. 

Sam’s hand runs up my back, cups the nape of my neck, and he doesn’t so much guide me as yank, tilting my head to meet the rough urgent sting of his teeth and the soft slide of his tongue. I groan into his mouth, and his hands flatten at the small of my back, pulling me impossibly closer. I want to shove myself against him until I can burrow under his skin. 

His mouth. He nips and sucks and explores, lips on mine with crushing force one second, whisper-sweet the next. 

I’m melting. I must be melting. 

I hold on for dear life, delirious, drunk on the way he’s kissing me. I’ve imagined this before, but I never imagined it like this. 

We’re still dancing, or something like it anyway; his hips swivel, and I rut against him, my entire body throbbing with animalistic need. Sam shifts his weight, grinding against me, and I can feel the fat stiff length of him right up against my center. I whimper, desperate and wanton. 

One hand slides up my back, around my ribs, up, until he can trace the curve of my breast with his thumb and then pinch my nipple through my bra. When I buck against him, he does it again. My knees don’t want to support me any more. 

I’m a half-second away from coming just like this. I’m shaking. 

“The fuck are we doing?” Sam says roughly. He nips my earlobe.

“Not thinking, remember?” I snap, and then I’m stumbling back, almost falling, tugging him by the wrist as I start to weave through the crushing press of bodies. My heart is pounding. Everything blurs together. My skin feels too cold without him all over it. 

There’s one open bathroom, no line, no reason to hesitate. The heavy door closes behind us and the deadbolt slides home with a metallic echoing thud. 

He’s already crowding me back, hands on my cheeks, tip of his nose brushing mine. I grab at the front of his shirt, fingers twisting in the sweat-damp fabric. My ass hits the counter and I surge up clumsily to kiss him. The angle’s off; our teeth clack together. 

We laugh and fit ourselves back together, bodies like puzzle pieces in that fucking song Sam would never admit he loves, and I could cry with relief at the way he feels under my hands. I can feel him breathing, the harsh rise and fall of his chest, and I can feel the heat of him, blood and sweat and bone, solid and real and here and mine, at least for tonight. 

He fumbles with the button of my jeans and kisses me like he’s drowning. Then he curls two long fingers up and into me, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit. I lean back, heels skidding on the dirty tile as I try to brace myself and rock my hips up all at once. 

“Need you to fuck me,” I bite out, remarkably steady considering the way I’m trembling. 

“You gonna regret this tomorrow?” Sam asks. He twists his fingers, knuckles stretching me open, so good my eyes roll back in my head. 

Tomorrow… we’re not going to think about tomorrow. 

“Might regret waiting this long,” I groan. Understatement of the century. 

“You ‘n me both. You sure?” He’s staring down at me and he looks wrecked: pupils blown, lips swollen, hair clinging to his temples where his skin is streaked with sweat. 

“Do you feel how close I am?” I grab his wrist with one hand, holding him there, fucking myself on his fingers as I try to pull my jeans down with the other hand. 

Sam’s mouth drops open and his eyes go unfocused for a second. Whatever self-control he had left is gone. He pulls his hand away, and I whine at the loss, but together we get my pants down, and I kick them off as he gets his belt open. He’s just as big as I always imagined, proportional to those sinfully long elegant fingers, and my mouth fucking waters as I watch him stroke himself. 

He bites his lip, chest heaving, and tugs me up onto the very edge of the grimy sink counter. Before I can find my balance he’s right there, hooking an arm under my knee so that he can spread my legs wider, and he’s guiding the hot velvety head of his cock down my center and in, and the slick blunt pressure of it makes me claw at his back, trying to get him closer even though I can barely handle how good that first thick inch feels. 

“Fuuu - unnhhhhh - fuck, Sam, I need…” I choke out, and then all I can do is pant breathlessly, incoherent, as he rocks his hips and starts to stretch me open. I’m helpless like this, no leverage to do anything but sit there and take it, and he moves so maddeningly slow that I’m going out of my skull. 

“God, look at you,” he breathes. “So fucking good. Always wondered what you’d look like taking my cock. Always imagined you begging. Are you gonna beg for me?” 

“If you don’t shut the fuck up and give it to me, Sam, I swear —” 

“Yeah?” he growls. He grips my hips hard enough to bruise.

I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together, leaning back on my hands, and then I can arch my back and pull him deeper, working myself onto his cock. 

“Sam —” I start, but before I can say anything else he slams home, grinding in hard and fast, and my voice cracks on a stuttering, incoherent whine. It’s blindingly good. He’s steely-hard and so goddamn thick I feel like I’m about to split open, like one wrong move is going to pull me apart. His first rolling thrust sparks this wrenching wave of pressure that fills me up and shakes me down to the tips of my toes, my entire body rippling with feverish heat. 

“That’s my girl,” he pants. He pulls me against him and twists up, rough and filthy, and I shudder against him, writhing, mindless and overwhelmed. 

“Sam,” I choke out. My voice is high-pitched and squeaky-thin, and the next sharp thrust makes me forget whatever I was going to say beyond, “Nnnnhhhhhyesohgod.” 

“There?” 

“Fuck. Yes.” 

He moans, low and broken, and finds that perfect spot again, grinding into it with eye-popping force.

I can feel it, pleasure cramping through me with every movement, coiling up, building around the deep throbbing ache where he’s fucking into me. I feel like a wild animal, primal and lost.

“Good girl. Fuck, feels so good.”

I clutch at his shoulders, muscles quaking, burying my face in his neck as all that white-hot pressure peaks inside me. I let out an ugly, anguished sob, can’t hold it back, and then all I can feel is the all-consuming spasm of my orgasm, tension rocketing through every inch of me, sending me out into space for a long paralyzed moment. The first pulse of it is so scary-intense that I can’t breathe, can’t control myself, can’t keep track of my own body… 

Then it all comes back at once, and I’m exquisitely aware of Sam against me as he fucks me through it, hips surging forward as I squeeze around him and urge him deeper. 

“Thought about this so many times,” he’s confessing, ragged and raw. 

“Me too,” I gasp.  

He sucks in a shaky breath, moving slower as I start to come down, and I can feel him holding back now. “Think about you so fucking much, I can’t —”

“Me fucking too, Sam.”

He kisses me, gentle in a way that could very easily destroy me. 

“This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” he whispers, forehead sweaty where it rests against mine.  

“Fuck, Sam, don’t — this is —” 

I feel so strange and strung-out, caught between the shivery aftershocks in my belly and the startling tenderness in his voice as he mumbles, “Wanted to take my time.”

“Sam.” 

“Wanted to take my time with you,” he repeats. He moves against me with this slow, snakelike undulation. “Wanted to lay you out and kiss you everywhere and fucking worship you.” 

“We can. We can — I want that.” 

“Never gonna be enough,” he chokes out. “I knew — I knew, if I did this, I’d never want to stop.”

My skin is lit up with the feel of him, liquid heat gathering in my gut as my body responds to every perfect touch, but I’m afraid my ribcage is about to split open with the way my heart is hammering. 

We’re in a goddamn dive bar bathroom, for fuck’s sake, and I’m fucked up, and maybe this will feel cheap and tawdry and silly in the morning, but… somehow I don’t think it will. Somehow this feels like the most important thing that’s ever happened to me. 

“Why’d we wait this long?” I ask. There’s an embarrassing wobble in my voice. 

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he grits out. “Because I was scared.” Before I can respond, he kisses me, all teeth and desperation, twisting his hips and swallowing my moan. He slides his hands under my shirt, sliding them up my back, and drags his fingernails down in trails of stinging heat. It’s pleasure and pain and fucking obliteration, and the sensory overload has me spiraling out again. 

“Fuck that,” I half-laugh. My back arches and my voice breaks, and I bite his lip hard enough that I taste copper. 

He groans, full-throated and shameless, and ducks his head, sinking his teeth into the sweat-slick curve of my neck. He sucks, nibbles, and it sets off fireworks behind my eyelids. 

“Close, Sam. So close,” I babble, breathing harsh and heavy. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull, and I can feel him moan. “Never thought it’d feel like this. It’s — this is so much better —” 

He shudders against me, lets out this long, guttural sound, and then he shifts and pounds into me harder, and all I can do is cling to him, pulling him closer like I’m never going to let go. “C’mon, then. Fuck. Tell me what you want.” 

“Please, Sam. Just — please. Please.” 

“I’d do anything for you,” he growls. “You know that, right?” 

“Anything?” 

“Anything.” 

“Don’t leave me,” I blurt out, as the unbearable tension starts to crest. “Don’t leave me, Sam. Please.” 

I know he hears it. He gasps like I punched him. I can feel him jerk, twitch, fingers clawing at my back, cock twitching and swelling inside me as he starts to come. I bite down on the meat of his shoulder as I let go. My orgasm feels like it’s ripping something loose, an earthquake in my core, and I don’t trust myself not to say exactly what’s on my mind. There’s a surge of pleasure, one glowing wave of it then another, and I’m dimly aware of shuddering against Sam as he rocks into me one more time, clutching him close… as if I could get close enough to keep him here with me. 

It’s impossible to be sad right now. I’m chemically incapable of sadness, still soaring high, but this is so much bigger than sadness anyway. I just feel like I’m about to break. 

“That,” he says, with an ugly sound, half-laugh, half-sob. “That’s what I was afraid of. That I wouldn’t ever want to leave.” 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Let’s just — let’s not think about it. Okay? Can we go back to the motel and — can we do that again? Take our time?” 

“Just for tonight?” he asks raggedly. 

“Just for tonight. We’re not going to think about what comes next.” 

He nods. We both know it’s a lie. 

,

,

,

[plant-flwrs]

heart of glass // fred weasley

masterlist!

request (from @bitchywhisperswizard <3): Hi! I absolutely LOVE your writing! Could I maybe request where Fred Weasley breaks up with reader before the war and thinks she died? Only to find her a year later in the muggle world like a celebrity performer? I understand if it doesn't make sense. Thank you!

a/n: thank u for the request!! i refuse to believe fred d*ed, but i am a sucker for fred lives au’s. also went a little grunge w this just because i love those pictures of metalhead james and oliver :) (i listened to miley cyrus’s new cover of heart of glass while i wrote this so i just called it that)

summary: Fred broke up with you just before the war, and when he couldn’t find you after the battle cleared he thought you died. You’re alive and well, living as a celebrity among the muggle world. One night reunites you two, and neither of you can deny the feelings that spark.

(2.5k)

------

Clutching the white sink beneath your fingers, you barely recognized the person looking back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were sunken and swollen, your lips puffed and red. Your cheeks were hollowed, casting shadows into your face. You lifted a shaky hand, pushing your hair out of your face and revealing a scar on your temple. 

You had barely made it out of the war, and once you did, you had no intentions on going back.

You made a new life in the muggle world, and eventually you were able to do what you had always wanted to do: perform. 

It was about ten minutes before you were due in stage, and your nerves had stopped buzzing a long time ago. You dipped a finger into some black eyeshadow, spreading it haphazardly across your eyes. You looked dead, and it showed what you felt like on the inside.

Not a day passed in which Fred Weasley hadn’t thought of you. Not a day passed in which guilt hadn’t plagued his heart and mind. Every day, for just over a year, the image of tears streaming down your face as he broke up with you was glue to the inside of his eyelids.

George tried to understand but he could never understand the pain. He tried to help his brother when he could. 

“Freddie!” George called to him from across the store, heaving in a huge box.

“Yeah?” Fred replied from behind the counter, pushing heavy buttons on the loud till.

“Look at this,” George quickly removed a hand from under the box, shifting his weight. He handed Fred a flier he found posted in the side of the shop.

It was a black flier, advertising some muggle bar in London. It looked like the sort of crowd the brothers gravitated towards some odd five years ago. Skulls and grunge symbols littered the page, and Fred found himself smiling fondly at it.

“Want to go?’ George asked, setting down the box in its right place, starting to unload the new shipment of chocolate wands.

“Aren’t we a little too old for this, George?” Fred said with a sad smile.

In that moment, George had the feeling he didn’t recognize his brother. His own face, but tormented with worry, sadness, and the unfriendly effects of time. George furrowed his brow, and tried to continue.

“No! It’ll be fun,” George reassured, slapping a hand on his brother’s back.

This was how Fred found himself clung to the bar all night, nursing a beer in his hand. He didn’t like muggle alcohol as much, but he supposed it would do. 

The bar was in the back of the crowded club, but it barely had any people by it. Everyone had rushed to the front of a stage, the entire room filled with enthusiastic screams. George hovered near the back of the crowd, where Fred could still see him, swinging back and forth to the music they played over the speaker.

Fred and George had liked going to concerts after the war. The flashing lights and loud noises were difficult at first, very difficult, but it was one of the things that helped them recover.

Fred looked around over the top of his drink, surveying the crowd. It was mostly made up of people who looked like him five years ago, people who hadn’t been through a war, or lost their ex-girlfriend in that war. People who didn’t feel like crying every second of every day. The crowd didn’t look like you or Fred.

Someone knocked on your door, their words muffled by the ringing in your ears. You shook your head, letting your hair fall naturally in it’s place over your scar. You pulled up the high boots you wore, and fixed the sheer tights that dove into them. Pulling the top of your tank top to cover your chest some more, you felt the cold air hit your slightly exposed stomach. You stood off to the right, backstage, waiting as people poked and prodded at you, fixing wires and handing you things to hold that they would eventually take back from you.

The nerves still didn’t come, but you hadn’t expected them to. Nothing made you nervous anymore, nothing made you feel anything, really.

Someone held the curtain open for you, and at the slightest movement the crowd roared. Fred turned his gaze towards the stage, and George moved forward in the crowd.

You looked out into the sea of people, and you could make out a few faces in the front. You had requested dulled lights for all of your shows, unable to handle the bright lights that often came with performing. A purple light hovered above you, illuminating you with the cool hue.

You cast a smirk out into the audience, moving to your mark at the center of the stage. Your band filed in behind you, and you tugged at the cord for the microphone, giving yourself some slack. The crowd was still just as loud as when you came out, and you started your first song.

You couldn’t hear anything but your own voice ringing through your head, booming through the earpiece tucked behind your hair. 

From the bar, Fred found his glass shattered on the floor beneath him. It hadn’t even made a sound over your powerful voice coming from what felt like every angle. He couldn’t move, his eyes just locked on your almost unrecognizable face. Even though you looked like him, tired and full of regrets, eyes sunken and cheeks hollowed, he would recognize you and your voice from anywhere.

He had heard you sing almost everyday since he met you. You hummed next to him in class, you chorused obnoxiously in the common room, and you sang to him softly while the two of you laid in bed.

Looking at you now, bent at the knees and almost squatting as you nearly screamed the chorus for what he could assume was your own song, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Everything washed through him, the guilt, the sadness, the worry, the pain.

George was next to him in a second, shaking him by his shoulders. A gleeful smile spread across his face and he just chanted: “She’s alive, she’s actually alive, Freddie!” over and over.

Fred couldn’t believe it, he had always wanted something like this to happen, to replay it all and make sure you hadn’t died, and now that he saw you living and breathing he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Fred ducked into the bathroom, splashing water over his face until he felt like himself again. He fixed his hair, regretting not getting a haircut earlier in the week like he had wanted to. You did always like his hair long, though. He looked down at his buttoned down shirt, the flowy sleeves rolled up halfway up his arms. He tucked it into his jeans, trying to smooth it out some.

George was waiting from him outside the door, biting his nails.

“She’s amazing, mate,” George said. Your voice echoed around the room, and still floated to their ears from the corner they had hidden away in.

“She always was,” Fred mumbled.

“I can’t believe it,” George said, his mouth agape and shaking his head in a disbelieving way.

“Do I look okay?” Fred asked his brother, holding his arms out a little.

George tugged at the sleeves, evening them out and making the rolls more neat.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling Fred with him.

The two sat and listened to you sing until Fred couldn’t take it anymore. The brothers left the venue, moving out onto the chilly London street. They walked around the back, where your crew had parked. They waited.

You finished your show, leaving the stage with the usual rush of adrenaline. You could never sit still inside after a show, and you rushed past your crew and out the back door. The cold air hit your skin, nipping at your sweat covered face and torso. You reached back inside, your hand finding a stool with a pack of cigarettes on them. You came back outside, fiddling with the package. You pulled one out and brought it to your lips, and realized you didn’t have a lighter. These were the moments you wished you still had your wand. It was always easier to smoke when you were a witch.

“Need a light?” someone spoke, coming from out of a shadow.

You immediately felt tears brimming your eyes, looking into the familiar brown eyes and flaming red hair.

“George?” you croaked, voice weak from the singing and the tears threatening to spill over.

George and you took steps towards each other, and he wrapped you in his arms. You cried into his chest, not really knowing why. You supposed you missed him, or maybe it was the fact that he looked strikingly like the boy who had broken your heart.

“Y/n,” another voice, a voice you would know always, called from behind him.

You shrunk from George hesitantly, wiping your eyes. You looked down at your hands, seeing them covered in smeared black makeup. You looked back at George’s shirt and saw a similar mark. You looked up at him apologetically, but he just beamed back at you, waving it off. You watched him pull his wand from his side, and with a simple movement, the stain was gone. You felt yourself crying harder.

You turned back to Fred, who had also started crying. The two of you lunged at each other, a mess of forceful limbs trying to wrap around the other.

“I thought you died,” Fred called out, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

You sobbed in response, your body shaking against Fred’s. He pulled your tighter, like he had regretted ever letting go.

You felt like you could never compose yourself, but you eventually did. Fred’s eyes were red and swollen, and you had wiped the tears off his cheeks. He did the same charm George had done to get the makeup off his shirt.

You led them inside, back into the venue. All of you sniffled as you walked together. You waved to security, telling them they were with you, and ignored your manager as you slipped into your greenroom. 

“You were amazing up there,” George said, taking advantage of the full bar you had in the room.

You took the glass he had made for you, gulping down the harsh alcohol in one swig. George chuckled, ducking into the mini fridge and handing you a soda.

“So your a muggle now?” Fred croaked, his eyes locked on his glass.

“Turned in my wand after the war,” you answered, putting the soda on the table beside you because you couldn’t trust your shaking hands.

“We missed you,” George spoke, sitting next to you on the couch.

You forced a smile on your cracking lips, glancing at him.

“I thought you died,” Fred spoke, finally looking up at you.

Your eyes widened, mouth opening slightly.

“Couldn’t find you after,” George said, forcing himself to remember, “looked almost all night. Lifted every stone we could find.”

Your eyes drifted down, tears filling them again. You swallowed hard, hating yourself immediately for the pain you put them through. You couldn’t even compare it to the pain Fred put you through, because at least you knew he was alive.

“I left,” you mumbled, lip quivering a little, “Just after the dust settled. I flew home and packed everything I owned.”

Fred scoffed across form you, and both you and George’s head shot up to look at him.

“I thought you died,” he repeated, sounding harsh.

“ ‘M sorry,” you mumbled, tasting the warm and salty tears falling into your mouth.

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” George whispered from beside you, swallowing hard.

“I dunno,” you admitted, wiping your tears with the back of your hand, “I just had to leave. I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me.”

You spoke to Fred, referencing the harsh breakup a month before the war. He looked at you, hurt in his eyes.

“Of course I wanted to see you,” he said, sounding hurt that you could even think that.

“You broke it off with me, Fred, what was I supposed to think?” 

“I only did that to keep you safe!” Fred yelled.

“Well it didn’t keep me safe! It just hurt more!” you shouted back, pulling your hair off your face and behind your ears in a stressful motion.

Fred looked at you, shocked. His eyes fell to your scar, and you covered it with your hair again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke, sounding regretful.

You nodded your head, looking at the ground.

“I’ve missed you, Y/n,” George spoke, his voice soft, “here.”

He slipped a card into your hand, and you looked down at it. It was a business card. Your mouth widened into a smile, and before you could stop yourself, you were laughing.

“Did George Weasley just give me a business card?”

George smiled back at you, chuckling with you. 

You examined the card, reading the gold writing. ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George Weasley’. The card had an address on it.

“Visit the shop some time,” George said, standing, “I’ll meet you at home, Fred?”

Fred looked at George, furrowing his brow. George made a motion for Fred to sit, and Fred sighed. George hugged you and left you with Fred.

You two sat in silence, he nursed his whiskey and you picked at you fingers.

“You really were amazing up there,” Fred finally said, putting his glass on the table.

“Thank you,” you said sheepishly.

“I still love you, you know,” Fred said confidently, looking straight into your eyes.

Your lips parted, hearing the words you had wanted to hear for about a year, and you didn’t know what to say.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

Fred stood from his chair and moved over to you, sitting next to you. His hand found yours, and you sat together. Neither of you had felt anything like this in a long time. The numbness receded into you, allowing space for love and relief to fill you. Fred no longer felt the weight of guilt and worry, all that banished just by a glance at your face.

Your hand still shook in his, and he held it tightly until it stopped. He turned towards you, bringing a hand to your face. He pushed your hair off your face, looking at you scar.

“Is that from-” he trailed off, his thumb tracing the mark.

You nodded, flicking your eyes away from his. He snaked it hand behind your neck, and pulled your face close to his. His lips connected to your scar, and he held you there for a moment. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch.

“I don’t ever want to be apart from you again,” he mumbled into your face.

“Me neither,” you whispered back.

[imaginetonprincecharmant]

I posted 12 467 times in 2021

23 posts created (0%)

12444 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 541.0 posts.

I added 9 955 tags in 2021

#supernatural - 2258 posts

#marvel - 2227 posts

#dean winchester - 1099 posts

#movie - 850 posts

#castiel - 763 posts

#fanart - 746 posts

#the 100 - 595 posts

#cast - 553 posts

#deancas - 483 posts

#bbc merlin - 381 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#i mean instead of making hope the hero why not make rafael be useful for once and not just be background character

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

See the full post

10 notes • Posted 2021-03-11 11:20:27 GMT

#4

10 of my favourite fictional women for women's history month

Thank you to @together-is-my-favourite-place for tagging me 🥰🥰

1. Clarke Griffin [The 100]

2. Bonnie Bennett [The Vampire Diaries]

See the full post

14 notes • Posted 2021-03-10 14:21:13 GMT

#3

i miss destiel and the days when i was so sure they would be canon

19 notes • Posted 2021-07-23 22:05:27 GMT

#2

2020 Year in Review

Rules: answer some questions about 2020 and tag some people!

Tagged by @together-is-my-favourite-place thank youu so much and again happy new year to you ♥♥ ! 

Top Five Four Films you watched in 2020:

1. The Croods 2. Inception  3. Tenet 4. Clueless  5. Secret Society of Second-Born Royals

Top Five TV Shows in 2020:

1. Julie and the Phantoms 2. Avatar : The Last Air Blender 3. Merlin 4.How to get away with murder (the final omg 😭)  5. Supernatural (beacuase i choose to ignore the last 2 epsiodes ugh) 

+ mention special to the 100 one of my fav show but s7 make it so atrocious 😭

Top Five Songs/Albums of 2020:

1. Before you go by Lewis Calpadi 2. A lot of Miley Cyrus’s songs (like angle like you, never be me, hate me) 3. Julie and the Phantoms album 4. A lot of Taylor Swift’s song (like nobody no crime, exile, cowboy like me)  5. Lonely by Justin Bieber 

Top Five Books of  i read in 2020:

1. Destiny by Cecelia Ahern  2. Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan 3.  Cursed by Thomas Wheeler And that’s it 😭😭

Top Five Ten Fanfictions of 2020:

I especially read a lot of AU on twitter about spn and the 100 but here some fanfiction i’ve read on ao3 or wattpad :  1. French version : De la poésie pour les Poissons by Saturne (spn) English version : Poetry for fish by Saturne (spn) 2. Ensemble pour briller by StellaMuscia (soy luna) 3. Cap ou pas Cap ? Qui gagnera la partie by MickarolLumonFics (soy luna)

And i think that it! 

Five good/positive things that happened to you in 2020:

1. I completed my second year of law school :) !!   2. I celebrated my birthday with my friends on july that was fun 3. I helped one of my best friend to organize her birthday on september  4. I met one of my best internet friends and we live ont he same city ! 5. My little cousin was born in january ♥ he’s so cute ! 

Tagging and wishing Happy New Year 2021 with a lot of hapiness, healt, sucess and prosperity to :  @omniavincitamor @saveyoua-seat @reggietheghost @geekyogicheese @edwardalric @darkmisstressofunknown @cursedbycastiel @samwwinchester @kittens-and-skeleton-hats @i-heart-tyrus @ccstiel @bloodysteel @beth-cassidy @madisonreyes @multifandomfinex @robertsbarbie-archive @somewherewebelongg @octaviaskairipas @taylor-morley @you-are-important-nina @captain--steve--rogers @kingjackless @star-light-child @proudtobeadepphead @jory826 @superchocovian @isabellaskyliner @themoonandstarsinhereyes @aureganemerryl And i hope i don’t forget someone omg, thank you all for this year on tumblr ♥ !

21 notes • Posted 2021-01-02 13:55:02 GMT

#1

See the full post

41 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 11:40:57 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[chokemeanakin]

Okay so I was thinking maybe something along the lines of fluffy Anakin coming home from a long mission and just wanting to be held and loved on by his significant other? I was thinking of stuff like running fingers through hair, forehead kisses, gentle caresses and the like please! Thank you love!

Thank you for the request! I had such a good time writing it 🥰 (also I totally wasn’t scream-crying to Miley Cyrus’s ‘Look at You’ the whole time🥴🤫)

Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Loving on You - Anakin Skywalker x gn Reader

You had been waiting for Anakin’s arrival all day, excited to see your secret lover after he had been deployed on a mission for two whole weeks. You were in the middle of volunteering to guard the Jedi archives when he returned, and every second you weren’t running toward the star-fighter hangar was a second more that your patience was stretching thin. Jocasta Nu ended up setting you free early, noting the way you were antsily fidgeting and looking towards the windows.

An hour had passed since he arrived, and you were just leaving the archives. He must be finishing up his report to the Council, so you headed that way. Coincidentally, you ran into his master on your way over, almost smacking straight into him.

“Obi-Wan!” you exclaimed, out of breath. “I saw you and Anakin just got back from your mission. Do you know where he is?”

Something was off. The lines in Obi-Wan’s face looked deeper, eyebags more prominent, and the light wasn’t really reaching his eyes. He tilted his head behind him, gesturing to the dorm rooms.

“Unfortunately, you just missed him,” he sighed, “I believe he went looking for you in your room.”

“Are… are you alright?”

Obi-Wan forced a smile onto his face, although you could tell it took effort. “I’m just fine. Although I don’t think I can say the same for Anakin.”

Your blood immediately ran cold. “What happened? Did he get hurt?”

“No, no, he’s not injured. The mission was just… upsetting for him. I’m sure he’ll want to tell you about it.”

You blew out a breath of relief and then put a comforting hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I’ll let you get some rest then. See you tomorrow.”

He bowed his head at you and you went your separate ways. As soon as you turned the corner, you bounded down the hallways to your room. Closing the door behind you, excitement grew in your veins as you saw the soft glow of a light on in the living room. He was home.

You walked into the living room, not seeing anyone except for a metal ball floating a couple inches above the couch. Peering over the back, you saw Anakin lying down, floating the decoration around with a hard look on his face. He was still dressed in all of his Jedi gear, not even bothering to take off his boots.

“Hi,” you hugged the back of the couch, smiling down at Anakin with your chin on your hands.

As always, the feeling of seeing his face after so long sent warmth down your spine. There was always that fear, no matter how many times he assured you otherwise, that one of these days he would not come back from a mission. It kept you up on the nights he was too busy to send you a hologram message letting you know he was okay, and you found you had to throw yourself into miscellaneous projects to keep your mind off of worst-case scenarios while he was gone. Staying busy was your only way to cope with the fear... But oh, how sweet it was to know he was here now.

Anakin’s lips twitched into a tiny smile of acknowledgement before it disappeared. “Hi, my love.”

Your face fell. Yeah… Obi-Wan was right. Anakin was upset, and you were gaging that it was a sad kind of upset this time. You were used to his anger and frustration, but you’d be lying if you said his sorrow scared you the most. He could fall to such extreme lows, it was almost impossible for even you to pull him back. It really didn’t help that you were shit at dealing with emotions either.

You bit your lip, looking at the ball he was floating around in the air. “I heard the mission was tough.”

“We were successful,” Anakin huffed lightly and caught the ball in his hand, placing it on the table beside him. “Or at least, the Council seems to think so.”

“What happened?”

He began to pick at thread from the sleeve of his Jedi robe. “We took back the alliance with Lim’Shor. Drove the Separatists away. Dooku escaped before we could intercept his ship… which is typical.”

“So…” you tilted your head. You still weren’t sure what had him in such a forlorn mood.

Anakin played with his hands in his lap, twisting and pulling at the sleeves of his robe. He was frowning, not the usual boy who was usually so full of life and excitement after completing a mission.

“Lim’Shor is in the outer rims. A lawless planet where slavery is common. Even with this alliance… it’s not under Republic rule.” He paused, jaw clenching. “While we could help keep the Separatist’s oppression at bay, there was nothing we could do to help themselves.”

Oh. Fuck.

Anakin was very senstive toward the topic of slavery-- rightfully so. With his troubled past, and what happened to his mother… you couldn’t even imagine the pain and anger it had caused him, and still plagues him to this day. The nightmares, the grief, the unbridled rage. You had seen it all, those terrible side effects of living through such a horrendous practice. It was no small miracle he had turned out to be the kind, golden-hearted man he was today-- and no wonder why he was so upset right now.

You made your way to the front of the couch, pushing the table away so that you could sit on the floor before Anakin. Although he wouldn’t look at you, the guilt swimming in his eyes broke your heart.

“They’re right. There’s nothing you can do-- not yet, at least,” you offered quietly. “With the war going on, you can see why the Council needed you here. But once it’s all over, we can go back. We can free all the slaves, everywhere, just like you’ve always dreamed of doing.”

Anakin finally turned to look at you. There was a sparkle in his eye, and you were afraid it was a tear, but he was also smiling. It was a tiny, weak smile, but it was there.

“I would love nothing more,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his finger. “Come here.”

He scoot over on the couch-- which was actually quite big to begin with-- so that you had room to slide on beside him. You were hesitant to touch him, seeing as how you liked your distance when you were hurting, but Anakin was the one that pulled you into him. He ducked his head and buried himself into your neck, breathing you in.

“We’re going to do it, I swear we will,” Anakin mumbled into your skin. “Every slave out there… we’re going to free them all someday.”

You couldn’t help but tighten your arms around his back, crushing him to your body. You wanted to take his past away, all the hurt he’s experienced, all his tormented memories, and the anguish of losing his mother. Your heart ached for the man in your arms, who always pretended to be so strong for others, but who you knew was secretly crumbling inside. He felt too much, too strongly, all the time. If only you could even take a fraction of that pain away…

“We will,” you vowed, rubbing your hand up and down the space between his shoulder blades. You didn’t think you could say anything else without your voice giving away the emotion building up in your eyes, so you settled for kissing his forehead, long and warm and lingering -- a promise.

You counted Anakin’s breaths as you felt them on your collarbone. Each one, you cherished with your whole being. He was here, he was safe, and he was broken but healing. He was in your arms, and you would do everything in your power to make sure he always made it back there.

You’re pretty sure Anakin fell asleep around breath number 102 or 103. Somewhere along the way, your hand had drifted to play with the soft curls at the base of his neck. He had shivered at the feeling, burying his head deeper into you. Now, his breathing was deep and even, and you thanked whatever Maker was out there that you were lucky enough to have this beautiful man, safe and sleeping in your arms.

*******************************************************

You stayed awake for hours, letting Anakin nap in your embrace before he slowly blinked his eyes opened and peered up at you blearily.

“How long have we been here? You must be so uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m perfect,” you ran your hands through his hair, messing up his curls so that they’d stick out at odd angles.

“Still, I should get off of you and take a shower.”

You didn’t want to let him go, but you got off the couch per his request and accepted the kiss he left on your hand before he left to wash up. You immediately felt cold without his body pressed against yours, already missing his presence.

While you waited for him to get out of the shower, you prepared some tea and jelly toast for him, almost certain he had had nothing to eat in the last week but those little nutrient balls he carried in the compact in his belt. You still didn’t understand how he could stand them.

You walked into your room where Anakin was shirtless, sporting nothing but his loose fitting sleep pants that now hung low on his hips. You tried to stop yourself from staring at his v-line as he ran the towel through his hair, drying it messily before throwing the towel in the hamper. He looked surprised when you handed him the food.

“For me?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I thought you’d be hungry.”

Anakin set the plate of toast on the bedside table so he had a free hand to pull you close to him by your waist. He leaned down so he could kiss you, his lips pillowy and soft and heavenly after not feeling them against yours for so long. It was only meant to be a thank you kiss, but, well, you’ll take the blame this time for getting carried away.

You sighed in relief, melting into his figure as you traced the hard planes of his body with your fingertips. His bare skin was warm under your touch, muscles quivering with each pass of your hand. One day, you would spend hours mapping him out with your mouth. For now, you ran your hands down his chest, exploring the crevices between his abs, dipping into his v-line. He shivered at the feeling, setting the mug of tea down as well before sitting back onto the bed and pulling you with him.

You had no qualms about it. Kissing him was something you would never get tired of. When he pulled back so he could breathe, you continued planting kisses all over his face-- his forehead, cheekbones, nose, chin, jaw. He scrunched his face up and laughed, cupping your face between his hands and pushing you back.

“Miss me much?”

“You have no idea,” you weren’t even ashamed, pushing forward to kiss him again. You decided to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out to tease Anakin’s bottom lip, slipping into his mouth and tasting him for the first time in weeks. Oh God, you were in love. The warmth of him, the smell of him, the taste of him-- your head was filled with him, you were drowning in him. Him, him, him.

You traced his jawline with your fingertips as you slotted your lips with his, smoothing his eyebrow down with your thumb. Even the littlest touches had him turn to jelly in your hands.

Jelly…

You pulled back begrudgingly, his panting breaths on your lips testing your self-control by the second. “As much as I’m enjoying this, you need to eat.”

“I’ll be fast,” Anakin promised, and then got to work. He tried to cheat by giving you half a slice of toast, but you pushed it back and gave him a pointed look.

“Okay, all done,” he finished off the tea and tossed the dishes onto the bedside table again. Then he shifted closer to you, tilting your chin up so he could reach your lips. “Now, where were we?”

[cupids-psyche]

"Flowers in hand, waiting for me , every word in poetry. Won't call me by name only baby"

Miley Cyrus / Angle like you

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Texan-born, Brooklyn-based singer-songwriter and TikTok personality Allison Ponthier makes a splash with 'Cowboy' – it's the enthralling first taste of her upcoming EP. Finding a path away from her conservative upbringing, queer singer-songwriter Allison Ponthier is another artist making country music her own. Taking references from Kacey Musgraves and Orville Peck, Ponthier's take on the genre is high camp and features a kaleidoscopic visual world too. Growing a huge following on TikTok, 'Cowboy' marks the start of a whole new chapter for Ponthier with her debut release with Interscope and Polydor. The track itself references her move from the bible belt to New York City and her journey accepting her sexuality. Warm and inviting 'Cowboy' is cinematic pop with some real heart-on-sleeve confessional songwriting. Complete with a masterful music video that runs like a mini-movie complete with impressive special effects, on reflection, cinematic is an understatement. The video itself is a striking and exciting introduction to this new artist, “I probably watch movies more than I listen to music,” Ponthier says of the video. The clip, directed by Jordan Bahat (Christine and the Queens) adds a whole new cosmic energy to the track and aims to amplify the lyrics' detailed storytelling. As she unveils more of her forthcoming debut EP, Ponthier explains what we can expect from her; “a lot of my songs are about being uncomfortable in your own skin but getting to know yourself better, figuring out who you really are.” [via the Line Of Best Fit]

Miley Cyrus has shared the full video for 'Angels Like You'. The pop rebel returned in 2020 with her excellent album Plastic Hearts, a series of superb empowerment anthems. Album highlight 'Angels Like You' has received the video treatment, shot at the Superbowl in front of an audience of fully vaccinated healthcare workers. Miley has also provided a note for the video describing her feelings of gratitude to these workers. [via Clash]

LA punk four-piece The Paranoyds have dropped a new video for track 'Egg Salad', taken from their album Carnage Bargain which is out now on Suicide Squeeze. The video's director Nicole Stunwyck comments "The video presents the glitzy & glamorous world of a teenage girl who, after accidentally catching a beauty pageant on TV, dreams of her rise to stardom & subsequent downfall... It’s not a commentary on anything but an experimental depiction of my own personal fascination for young tragic starlets alà Valley of The Dolls."

Noga Erez and collaborative partner ROUSSO have shared a fifth compelling new single from forthcoming album KIDS which is set for release on March 26 via City Slang. 'Story' is a snappy, addictive song about how couples relationships are always a relationship between two people’s past and present. "Everyone brings their past experiences to the relationship even if things are great" Erez comments. "Sometimes past situations come in and take over." As with the album's previous singles 'Story' is brought to life with a captivating video, starring Erez and ROUSSO, who also provides vocals on the track. "ROUSSO is my partner in music as well as my partner in life" she explains. "This is the first time we tell a story about our relationship in a song and video. It’s a song about a couple fighting and how, in that situation, sometimes what you hear the other person say is not what they actually said. The making of this video was a 10-day couples therapy session for us. As we rehearsed the pretend fighting and martial arts moves we knew that, at times, one of us would get punched just a little too hard. It was so intense and interesting to live in this world, where our relationship comes alive in the most physical way."

After announcing Detritus with lead outing 'Stories' last month, Sarah Neufeld has unveiled the album's second single 'With Love and Blindness'. Neufeld says of the song and Jason Last-directed video, "The video for 'With Love and Blindness' came together through a long-time collaboration between myself and videographer Jason Last. I knew that Jason and I would work together again on some visual aspect for my third solo release, and it so happened that before I even began recording the album, we were presented with the opportunity to do a mini residence on Corsica with Providenza; an amazing collective with a farm, cultural laboratory, festival and residency program." She continues, "I was doing a short solo tour in Europe in the summer of 2019 in order to re-work some of the pieces from the dance collaboration to begin to find a shape for the album that was to be recorded in the Fall. In the middle of that tour, Jason and I travelled to Corsica for several days (graced once again with a suitcase containing Esteban Cortazar’s unique and beautiful creations). Besides performing in Providenza’s outdoor amphitheater, we were immersed in nature, literally staying in a treehouse perched on the side of a mountain, overlooking the dramatic coastline." Neufeld adds, "I found that the pulse of the landscape resonated with the essence of the music, especially "With Love and Blindness"; a sense of rawness, of sensuality, of a strange gravity intensified by the hypnotic summer heat and the general otherworldliness of the place." [via the Line Of Best Fit]

Molly Burman was brought up around music. At every family event, every party, the soundtrack would resonate with her, providing an education in itself. Both parents were gigging musicians, and she always wanted to follow in their footsteps, to use performance as a means of self-expression. Lockdown brought the time and space to bring these ideas into focus, and she's working to unveil a series of one off singles. Her debut single proper 'Fool Me With Flattery' is out now, a blissfully melodic piece of indie pop with some whip-smart lyricism. There's a tongue in cheek element to her sound that is fantastically endearing, matched by the subtle lo-fi elements of her bedroom pop confection. She comments: "I wrote the song after a long day of feeling overlooked and ignored by some of the guys in my life. I was fed up, angry and used the stereotype of a mansplaining misogynist to let it all out. This song is for anyone who feels belittled and like they’re being made to shrink themselves; be as big as you possibly can, and don’t let anyone fool you with flattery." The video is a hilarious showcase for Molly's offbeat sense of humour. [via Clash]

Punk provocateurs Pussy Riot have unveiled their latest song 'Panic Attack', as well as a music video that features a hologram of singer Nadya Tolokonnikova. This is the final release from Pussy Riot’s new Panic Attack EP, a collection of three linked songs that, for now, can only be streamed as separate singles. The title track features punk guitars underneath a tinkling music box melody, as Tolokonnikova turns anxiety into a sports cheer. “Gimme an A,” she says, “Gimme a T/ Gimme a T/ Gimme an A/ Gimme a C/ Gimme a K/ Okay? Okay.” While upbeat and seemingly cheerful, the synth-punk song comes out of the trauma she experienced in a Russian prison camp. As she explained in a statement, “After serving 2 years in a labor camp, I’m still struggling with mental health issues. Trauma, fear and insecurity never fully go away, causing depression episodes and deep anxiety. ‘PANIC ATTACK’ was born as the result of me staring at the wall for 24 hours in the middle of the pandemic, feeling 100% helpless. I was trying to write something uplifting to encourage people to get through the tough times. But I was just failing and failing. Magically, at the second I allowed myself to be honest and write about despair I was experiencing, I wrote the track in like a half an hour. Depression is a plague of the 21st century, and it tells me that there’s something broken in the way we treat each other. The video ‘PANIC ATTACK’ reflects on objectification of human beings, loneliness, disconnection from the environment that causes us to feel small and powerless. And it’s us who caused it with our own hands – that’s why in the end of the video I’m fighting with my own clone.” The music video for 'Panic Attack' was directed by  Asad J. Malik. He used 106 cameras to capture all angles of Tolokonnikova, then converted that information into a photoreal hologram. Afterwards, Tokyo-based creative technologist Ruben Fro built out landscapes reminiscent of video games through which the virtual Tolokonnikova could frolic. But as the visuals progress, those idyllic settings give way to a hellscape, and the singer faces off against a clone of herself. [via Consequence of Sound]

The wait is finally over. BLACKPINK’s Rosé shines like the star she is with her official solo debut. On Friday, she released two solo songs on her debut single album titled R, 'On the Ground' and 'Gone.' With its deep lyrics, angelic bridge, and Rosé’s high note at the end, 'On the Ground' is an exemplary song for her solo debut. Add the fact that Rosé is credited as a writer for the song, and one can really tell how much time she spent perfecting it for release. The accompanying music video, meanwhile, expands the story of life and growth. Rosé starts off looking lost and trying to find herself amidst all the wildness of life; she eventually encounters past and present versions of herself while searching for answers and purpose. By the end, she finds herself and her path forward, and one can’t help but smile as she sings an explosive outro. [via Teen Vogue]

On Ellise's latest alt-pop concoction the rising pop star gets gothic as 'Feeling Something Bad...' transforms a crush into an obsession. An expert at catastrophising everyday experiences, the LA-based artist has arrived fully formed with not only a consistent and cohesive sound but a striking visual identity too. That's even more clear when you press play on the accompanying video for her latest infectiously catchy track. With the clip directed by Joakim Carlsson we get to see Ellise in her absolute element as she brings "Feeling Something Bad..." to life in a macabre world of its own. “I just love dramatising little everyday feelings in life, so this is my big dramatic ‘I have a crush on you’ song,” Ellise explains – it's a song she wrote about a boy she barely knew. [via the Line Of Best Fit]

With President Biden determined to get the majority of American adults vaccinated by summer, bands are earnestly beginning to look forward to the return of live music. Purity Ring are the latest to announce 2021 tour dates, which they’ve shared alongside the video for their track 'sinew'. The song comes from WOMB, the synth-pop duo’s first album in five years that was released just before the pandemic struck. Directed by Toby Stretch, the clip brings back the abstract graphics and costumes that featured in the 'stardew' music video, continuing the enigmatic story of the domed bicyclist and their sun-headed sidecar companion. [via Consequence of Sound]

Australian Pop Princess, Peach PRC releases the official music video for her debut single 'Josh'. Peach PRC comments on the official 'Josh' visuals, “The music video was inspired by growing up watching the same five infomercials, morning news channels and old movies on my little pink box tv when I was a kid and couldn’t sleep on a school night. The idea was to have “josh” feel just as harassed the more he tries to call. Every creative step along the way was entirely my vision, from writing the music video script, to the lyrics and everything in between. I’m so happy and hope all the girls, gays and theys who dated “josh” will sing along.”