#eclectic of music lyrics

[ju91t3rs-rambles0rwtv]

more gay lyrics straight from my peanut brain yes the song names are mixed up on purpose

I think you can fill in the blanks of who is singing

though lore for my heart, mind, and soul has not been shared yet so...

[author-a-holmes]

∞ 👀

Thank you for the ask! <3

The original ASK post can be found HERE

Rules; Put an "∞" in my inbox, and I'll shuffle my music player, and give you my favourite lyric from the song that comes up.

"Here's the night, where's the stars? 'Cause I need some guiding. And it cuts like a knife as I watch you walk away."

Cher - Alive Again

[calypsosystem]

After listening to the tme covers by chonny jash i will now assign the mental illness girlies as card suites

Heart: the suit of hearts and chalices

the chalice can hold things from water to wine, but the person wielding the cup has to be careful or else it’ll spill (its a metaphor 😳!) to empathize is important too, for as emotional as heart is, he cannot see (literally) how mind feels, or doesn’t choose to empathize with him, instead of viewing mind as “just like him but dealing with the situation in a different way” he views mind as a machine.

Mind: the suit of spades and swords

Logical and commanding, he wants actions from the heart but he won’t listen to how heart feels. like a sword, it can be used to protect those you love but again, if you aren’t careful, you can deeply wound those you love. In the mind electric, mind at the end is saying that he is trying to find a way to fix themselves and that heart is holding them back, when in reality its their lack of understanding of each other thats causing so much distress. he criticizes heart, but fails to understand that heart is only reacting to mind’s actions, and that heart is deeply wounded (and probably wants a hug ngl)

Soul: suit of spades and wands

To wield a wand is to exert control over something and use it,even if its as simple as a wand. Ego and ambition, a wand is an extension of the person’s goals and body, soul is laid back and more grey, i dont know if this is true but i kinda got the vibe that soul didn’t want to pick a side with heart or mind and thats the point, he wants them to stop, and hes doing everything he can to get them to stop. “I won’t hesitate to kill my heart and mind.” I dont think hes exaggerating, maybe its still a threat but more like a last ditch effort to get them to stop. But the fighting is not the reason they are the way they are, (atleast in my interpretation). The fighting is because of the event, trauma or whatever, it caused them so much damage that it manifested internally but i dont think Soul believes it. Soul is not targeting the actual reason mind and heart are fighting, just the fact they are fighting. He assumes the role of the self, the “true self” even tho, they are all equally themselves, just incomplete. Soul is determined but misguided. He reads to me like a parent who sent their two arguing children to their rooms when they fight, it doesn’t address the reason they fought, so it builds resentment.

Whole: the suit of diamonds and pentacles:

I’m the least familiar with whole other than the “we’re going to win” cover, but they are whole to some extent. Albeit twistedly since they end up back where they started. The opportunities are open but just out of reach before old habits start to form, the groundedness of whole is taken once again and the cycle repeats. It’s possible to be whole, but unless HMS are truly at peace with themselves then the cycle will repeat. Day and night, they can’t be okay until they truly trust and relinquish the need to control the others.

Guide sheet:

suit of spades/swords (action, logical and rational)

suit of clubs/wands (power, ego, intuition and ambition)

suit of diamonds/coins/pentacles (opportunities, practicality and grounded)

suit of hearts/chalices (emotions, opinions and being born with abilities to see things others cant)

[thesavageislander]

I’ve never tried to emulate anyone. I’ve never idolized people, I prefer instead to get off on attitudes.

~ Michael Hutchence.

Need You Tonight - INXS

[weirdo-daylist]

[tomcatttca]

Website : https://www.tomcattt.com

Address : Toronto, Ontario, Canada

TomCattt, a Toronto-based singer-songwriter, captivates audiences with a unique blend of new-age Beatles vibes and chill melodies. His music, featuring albums like "Hiiyaaaaaaaaaaa," "Sinophilia," and "Cattt Man Do," resonates with a diverse fan base. Embracing the digital era, TomCattt's presence spans various online platforms, offering an eclectic mix of reggae, blues, and rock 'n' roll. His lyrical prowess and musical versatility make him a standout artist in the Canadian music scene.

Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/thomas.patton.tomcatttt50115

Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/tomcattts/

Tiktok : https://www.tiktok.com/@tomcattt5

Keywords: Canadian music artist Creative video production Toronto music industry Canadian music scene Chill vibes music Storytelling through music Toronto singer-songwriter Independent music artist Canadian singer-songwriter Music industry Canada Toronto music community new age beatles music toronto singer songwriter chill melodies artist eclectic music styles lyrical storytelling songs musical versatility artist creative songwriting artist chill melodies toronto canadian singer songwriter versatile musical artist indie music scene canada innovative songwriting beatles inspired melodies toronto indie artist bluesy rock n roll independent artist success songwriting excellence canadian music business toronto music promotion melodic storytelling canadian indie scene ambient melodies artist canadian music trends relaxing melodies artist music diversity artist songwriting creativity toronto music networking chill out music vibes rock n roll influences online music visibility indie artist journey toronto music collaborations ambient chill artist indie artist branding relaxing melodies online blues infused rock artist eclectic music exploration independent artist growth songwriting process insights

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[unabashegirl]

the cover | part 2

Y/N and Harry, lifelong best friends, pretend to be a couple for a family wedding weekend in Edinburgh. As they navigate the event, old feelings resurface, and what starts as an act turns into something real, leading them to confront their true emotions for one another.

Author's note: hello everyone! I hope you are doing as good as expected. Liam's death has been a tough pill to swallow. I can't begin to imagine how his close friends and family might be feeling. I honestly feel like I haven't assimilated. It's just so sudden and unexpected.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all of the one shot (+8K) and exclusive scenes, various one shots and much more :)

word count: 3.3K

The hum of the car engine and the rhythmic sound of tires on the motorway created a comforting backdrop as Harry and Y/N cruised along, leaving the city far behind. The sun dipped low, casting a warm glow over the landscape. The scent of takeaway coffee and crisps filled the air, with the windows cracked open just enough to let in a cool evening breeze.

Harry, who insisted on driving first, had one hand loosely on the steering wheel, his sunglasses perched on his nose. Every now and then, he glanced over at Y/N with a teasing grin.

“You’re quiet for someone who signed up for a whole road trip,” he teased, nudging her with his elbow. “Thought you’d be the one keeping the conversation going.”

Y/N smiled, sinking back into her seat. “Just enjoying the peace before the chaos of my family.”

Harry laughed, the sound warm and comforting. “You act like they’ll eat us alive.”

“They might,” Y/N muttered, earning another chuckle.

Soft music played from the speakers—an eclectic playlist Harry had made, full of road trip classics. When Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac came on, Harry grinned and cranked up the volume.

“Oh, this is a good one,” he said, tapping the steering wheel. “You have to sing along. Road trip rules.”

Y/N tried to hold back a laugh. “I’m not singing.”

Harry, undeterred, started belting out the lyrics dramatically, completely over the top. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, eventually caving and singing along—though much less theatrically.

“There you go!” Harry said, laughing. “Now it’s a real road trip.”

The moment slipped into a comfortable rhythm—the music, the open road, and their easy companionship making the miles disappear. Y/N found herself relaxing, but the weight of the upcoming wedding lingered in the back of her mind.

After a few hours on the road, they pulled off at a small roadside diner nestled in the countryside. The fresh air was a welcome break from the car.

“This looks like a good spot,” Harry said, stretching as they got out. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at him, the sun catching the sharp angles of his face, making his curls look effortlessly perfect.

They walked into the diner, greeted by the soft chime of a bell over the door. The woman behind the counter didn’t seem to recognize Harry, and it was a relief—just two people grabbing a bite, no fuss.

“This is nice,” Harry said, sliding into a booth by the window.

Y/N smiled, knowing what he meant. “It must feel good to just be normal for a minute.”

Harry nodded, leaning back with a content sigh. “No cameras, no pressure… just us.”

They ordered burgers and fries, and Harry insisted on getting milkshakes to complete the meal. The conversation flowed easily, laughter breaking out as Harry joked about the wedding and Y/N’s family.

“You’re terrible,” Y/N said between laughs, wiping her eyes.

“I’m just preparing for what’s ahead,” Harry replied with a smirk. “Perfect fake boyfriend mode.”

After eating, they wandered around the small town nearby, snapping photos of the countryside. Harry held up his phone, grinning. “Stand by that tree,” he directed, and Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged.

“Why are you taking photos of me?” Y/N asked, half-heartedly posing in front of the sprawling oak tree.

“Because,” Harry said with a grin, snapping away, “you’re part of the adventure. Gotta document it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fine, but I’m taking one of you too.” She grabbed his phone, snapping a quick photo of him standing with the tree and hills in the background. His goofy smile made her heart warm—Harry, carefree and happy, just her best friend, far from the pressures of fame.

They lingered a bit longer, soaking in the calm before Harry checked his phone. “We should hit the road if we want to make it to Edinburgh before dark.”

Y/N nodded, feeling content as they climbed back into the car. The road trip was turning into something more special than she’d expected. She glanced at Harry as he drummed his fingers along to the music. There was something unspoken between them, as if a shift was happening, slow and subtle, yet undeniable.

As they approached the castle, the setting sun cast a golden glow over the estate, its stone walls and ivy-covered turrets straight out of a fairytale. Y/N’s stomach flipped, nerves kicking in as the car bumped along the gravel driveway.

“We made it,” Harry said, parking the car. “Ready?”

“Not even a little,” Y/N muttered before her door was yanked open, and she was pulled into a whirlwind of hugs and greetings. Her mom was first, squeezing Y/N before pulling back to critique her hair. “Sweetie, a haircut before tomorrow might be good, don’t you think?”

Y/N forced a smile as her aunt chimed in agreement. Her heart sank. Her family always had something to nitpick. It didn’t take long before her cousin brought up a dreaded subject: “One of the groomsmen is single. We thought you two might hit it off.”

Y/N’s stomach clenched, ready to politely deflect, when Harry’s voice cut through. “Hey, love, what did I miss?” He strolled over, all confidence, slipping his arm around her waist as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “I’m Harry,” he introduced himself, leaving her family speechless.

His presence immediately eased the tension, and Y/N leaned into him, grateful. “You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Better now,” she whispered back.

Her mom’s eyes darted between them, clearly surprised. “Harry! I didn’t realize you were coming with Y/N.”

“Yep,” Harry replied smoothly, shaking hands with the rest of her family. “Thought it’d be fun to make a weekend of it.”

Her family exchanged glances, mentally recalculating their plans to set her up with anyone else. Y/N could only smile, leaning into Harry’s warmth, thankful for his perfect timing.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, clutching the edge of her oversized t-shirt as she padded over to the bed. The atmosphere between them was still light, but there was an undercurrent now—an unspoken awareness that lingered with every glance. She climbed into bed, sitting cross-legged as she pulled the covers over her lap.

“This is surreal,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair. “My family, this place… us pretending to be something we’re not. It feels like I’m in a weird dream.”

Harry looked over at her, his phone now abandoned on the nightstand. “It’s not that weird, is it?” he said with a soft chuckle, his voice low in the quiet room. “I mean, we’ve been through worse, right?”

Y/N snorted. “True. But this is different. There’s more at stake here. My family’s already plotting wedding dates for us in their heads, I just know it.”

Harry grinned, shifting to prop himself up on his elbow so he could face her more fully. “Well, let them plan away. They don’t need to know the truth, and if it helps you get through this weekend without the endless setups, I’m happy to keep playing along.”

His words were casual, but the way he looked at her, his eyes soft and reassuring, made something stir in Y/N’s chest. She wasn’t sure if it was the weight of the day, or the strange intimacy of being alone with him in this room, but she felt the pull between them more intensely than before.

“Thanks for that,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her for a beat longer before he shrugged lightly. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Friends.

Y/N nodded, trying to shake the feeling that there was something more beneath the surface, something they hadn’t yet addressed. She laid back, sinking into the plush pillows as she stared up at the canopy overhead, trying to quiet her racing thoughts.

“Goodnight, H,” she whispered.

Harry turned off the light, settling beside her as the room plunged into comfortable darkness. “Goodnight, love.”

But long after the room had gone still, Y/N found herself wide awake, her thoughts spinning. The warmth of Harry’s presence beside her was impossible to ignore, and though nothing had changed between them in any outward way, something deep inside her knew that this weekend was going to shift things—whether they wanted it to or not.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as Harry’s arm remained wrapped around her, the subtle weight of it grounding her in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She had always known Harry was protective, the type of friend who would go out of his way to make sure she felt safe. But this—this was different. This was intimate, a closeness that blurred the line between friendship and something more.

She swallowed, trying to focus on anything but the way her body was responding to the warmth of his presence. “You always this smooth?” she asked, half-joking, though her voice wavered slightly.

Harry’s chest rumbled with another quiet laugh. “Only when I’m with you.” His voice was soft, almost teasing, but there was something underneath it that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N shifted slightly, feeling her pulse quicken as she let out a quiet sigh. “It’s going to be a long weekend, isn’t it?” she murmured, unsure if she was asking him or herself.

Harry’s hand tightened just a fraction on her waist, his thumb brushing the edge of her ribcage. “It doesn’t have to be,” he whispered, his breath warm against the back of her neck.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she lay still, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them. It felt like an invitation, a choice she didn’t know she’d have to make. She wanted to say something—anything to break the tension that had started to build—but the words caught in her throat, too heavy to speak.

Instead, she stayed silent, her mind spinning with possibilities she didn’t dare entertain.

The moments stretched on, the castle’s wind whispering through the cracks in the stone, a reminder of the world beyond this room. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, it was just the two of them, wrapped up in a situation neither had prepared for, pretending to be something they weren’t—yet somehow, it felt more real than it should.

Harry’s voice was a quiet hum in the darkness when he finally spoke again. “If it gets to be too much, just let me know. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over her like a blanket. “Yeah,” she whispered. “We always do.”

And despite the uncertainty that lingered, she allowed herself to lean into him just a little more, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull her into a fragile sense of peace.

The next day arrived with the welcome party in full swing. The castle grounds had been transformed into a lavish setting with fairy lights strung between trees, soft music playing in the background, and long tables covered in elaborate floral arrangements. It was all as grand as Y/N expected, but she had other things on her mind.

As they approached the group, Y/N could feel the familiar sense of dread creeping up on her. Her family had always been a bit overwhelming, but with Harry by her side, the stakes felt higher. The weight of their fake relationship loomed over her, making her hyper-aware of every glance, every whispered comment.

Her mom was the first to make the introductions. “Everyone, this is Harry,” she said with an exaggerated flourish, as though presenting some sort of prized possession. “Y/N’s boyfriend.”

The group’s attention shifted to Harry, and Y/N braced herself for the inevitable barrage of questions. Sure enough, her aunt—one of the nosiest people Y/N had ever met—jumped in first.

“So, Harry, how did you and Y/N meet?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but Harry beat her to it, his voice smooth and confident. “We’ve been friends for years,” he said, glancing down at Y/N with a soft smile. “But recently, things just... fell into place.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by how effortlessly he lied. His voice was calm, his words so convincing that even she almost believed them. The way he looked at her, like she was the center of his world, made her heart do a strange little flip.

Her aunt nodded approvingly, clearly buying into the story. “Well, it’s about time, isn’t it? Y/N’s always been too focused on work. It’s nice to see her finally settling down.”

Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Settling down? She wasn’t sure she even believed in that, let alone the idea that her family thought it was long overdue. But she plastered on a polite smile, not wanting to create any tension.

Harry’s hand found its way to the small of her back again, and she felt the warmth of his touch seep through her dress. “I wouldn’t say it’s about settling down,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. “Y/N’s too ambitious for that. She keeps me on my toes.”

The group chuckled, clearly charmed by his response, but Y/N’s mind was racing. The way Harry was handling the situation, so calm and collected, made her realize how deep into this charade they really were. And while it was supposed to be fake, there was something about the way he was acting—protective, reassuring—that made her wonder if it was more than just a performance.

As the conversation drifted on, Y/N found herself stealing glances at Harry, trying to read the expression on his face. Was he just playing his part, or was there something deeper behind the way he was holding her so close, speaking about her with such genuine affection?

The party continued, with more introductions and obligatory small talk, but Y/N’s mind kept returning to that moment—the way Harry had looked at her, the warmth of his hand on her back, and the weight of the unspoken emotions hanging between them.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, Harry leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear. “Want to sneak out of here for a bit?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for her.

Y/N glanced around at the sea of relatives, the endless chatter, and the forced smiles. The idea of escaping, even just for a little while, was tempting. “I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered back, a grin tugging at her lips.

With a quick excuse to her mom about needing some air, they slipped away from the crowd, making their way toward the quieter part of the castle grounds. The noise of the party faded as they walked down a path lined with tall hedges, the soft glow of the fairy lights barely visible behind them.

Once they were far enough away, Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Thank God,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I thought I was going to lose my mind back there.”

Harry chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on her back as they strolled further from the party. “You held up well,” he said, glancing down at her. “Better than I would’ve.”

Y/N shot him a sideways look. “You? Mr. ‘I can charm anyone’? I don’t believe that for a second.”

He grinned, but there was something in his eyes that softened as he looked at her. “It’s easier when I’ve got you by my side.”

Her heart did that strange flip again, and she cursed herself for letting his words affect her so much. This was all pretend. It wasn’t real. But as they walked together in the fading light, the castle looming in the distance, it was getting harder and harder to remember that.

As the evening drew to a close, the soft glow of fairy lights gave the garden a warm, magical feel. Guests had settled down at their tables, and the soft clinking of glasses quieted as the groom stood up, ready to give his speech.

The crowd hushed, eyes turning to the head table where Y/N’s cousin sat, beaming at her soon-to-be husband. He cleared his throat, his voice steady but emotional as he began to speak about the woman he was marrying.

“When I met her,” he started, looking lovingly at Y/N’s cousin, “I didn’t know what I was missing in my life. She has been my best friend, my confidante, and my greatest supporter. She pushes me to be better every day, encouraging me in everything I do.”

His words hung in the air, and Y/N, sitting beside Harry, shifted uncomfortably. As much as she was happy for her cousin, the familiar ache of longing settled in her chest. This kind of love, this partnership, felt so distant—something she admired but never experienced herself. Her thoughts drifted before she even realized it, thinking of Harry beside her.

She glanced at him quickly, wondering what was going through his mind. He seemed lost in thought, eyes forward but a subtle frown tugging at his lips, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his glass.

The groom’s voice cracked slightly with emotion as he continued, “In my hardest moments, she was my rock, my stability. I’ve never had someone I could lean on like that until her.”

Those words cut through Y/N like a jolt. Leaning on someone... having that kind of trust, that connection. Her mind swirled with the memory of the night before, of Harry pulling her close in bed, his arms steady around her. For a second, she let herself feel what that could be like if it wasn’t just a game.

She was about to push the thought away when she felt something warm brush her hand. She looked down and saw Harry’s fingers, tentative at first, before gently intertwining with hers. Her pulse quickened as his thumb slowly grazed the back of her hand.

She looked up at him, her breath catching slightly, and saw him already watching her, an unreadable intensity in his eyes. It wasn’t playful or casual like it usually was. There was something else—something that made her heart pound harder in her chest.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the world around them had faded away.

Y/N swallowed, nodding, but her throat felt dry. “Yeah, I’m okay,” she murmured, not entirely sure if she was telling the truth.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Harry’s grip on her hand was firm, his gaze unwavering. The air between them felt charged, thick with the weight of unspoken things.

He didn't say anything else, but he didn’t need to. His hand remained clasped in hers, a silent reassurance, and maybe something more. But they weren’t there yet. Neither was willing to take the leap into what that more could be—at least, not tonight.

The groom’s speech concluded, and the applause broke the moment. Y/N reluctantly pulled her hand from Harry’s, though she could still feel the warmth lingering on her skin. As the attention shifted back to the celebration, she stole one last glance at him, her heart racing for reasons she wasn’t quite ready to admit.

But it was becoming harder to ignore the way Harry’s touch felt like something she’d been missing all along.

--> part 3

[sorenphelps]

Rockstar AU album covers

I hyperfocused on a tiny detail again, so I drew all the album covers of rockstar Sirius, and also came up with a “backstory” for all. I put the descriptions under the cut, with some more details of this rockstar AU! Beware, long post! (also someone please write this)

Albums (Sirius’ age indicated):

Practically Royal (20): A sharp, system-critical punk album that dived deep into social and political commentary. With its raw energy and defiant tone, the album offered an aggressive critique of authority, consumerism, class and societal norms, aiming to spark discussion and challenge the status quo. This debut album was a huge success, launching Sirius into instant stardom and becoming an important public figure and activist in political and societal discourse. He firsts got arrested for engaging in civil disobedience / demonstrations related to an anti-government movement. He was heavily criticized by both parties because of his rebellious actions and undeniable privilidge of his noble birth.

Stray Dog (22): After his brother died, Sirius released his second, highly personal album that showcased diverse musical influences, blending multiple genres into a complex soundscape. Despite its personal depth, it struggled to find a clear identity and the eclectic style left many fans disappointed. The album was considered a flop financially, which added yet another layer to Sirius’ personal struggles and scandals.*

Orange is the New Black (29): This album contained almost entirely cover songs, a bold move that alienated fans who were hoping for original material. It failed to resonate with listeners who wanted Sirius’ distinct voice and creativity, rather than renditions of already well-known songs. The album was released a little after Sirius had served his prison sentence,* and was very despised by the audience, who referred to it as „only a desperate money-grab”. Sirius got heavily criticized, with many arguing that his time had passed and his music no longer stood the test of time, becoming overly commercial. This album was so disappointing that fans began to rediscover and appreciate his second album more.

Wasted Potential (33): After a long hiatus and a period of public controversies and scandals, Sirius returned with his forth album, which was a huge commercial and critical triumph, marking a powerful comeback. It blended his core sound with fresh ideas, and successfully proved that, despite previous doubts, he still had the musical chops and authenticity that made him a fan favorite in the first place. The album became Platinum in 3 months, and dominated the Charts, the titular song spent 3 consecutive weeks as No. 1 of the Billboards Hot 100. The album was nominated for a Grammy, and won the Brit Awards and multiple categories at the AMAs/VMAs.

Fleurs du Mal (34): In response to criticism of his „less poetic” lyrics, Sirius released an acoustic album based entirely on the works of iconic poets like Rimbaud, Verlaine, and Baudelaire. The album received a mixed reception. On one hand, it introduced Sirius’ work to a new audience, gaining significant praise in academic and literary circles. On the other hand, it alienated the core fanbase, who were more attuned to straightforward rock songs.

Supernova (41): Released unexpectedly after another extended break, this album was a declaration that, despite aging, he still possessed the fire and creativity that made him a rock icon. The album featured multiple heavy hitting rock songs, dramatic ballads, grand and epic anthems, showcasing a renewed energy that surprised his fans and critics alike. It served as both a personal statement and a challenge to the idea that aging musicians lose their edge. The album was well-received for its raw vitality and confidence. It was a commercial success as well, the titular song broke the record of „Wasted Potential” by spending 5 consecutive weeks as No. 1 of the Billboards Hot 100. The album also won a Grammy.

*Further details:

Sirius got in touble with the law multiple times for various reasons:

Reckless Driving and Substance Abuse: speeding, drunk driving, drug or alcohol-related offenses, drug possession and addiction

Vandalism and Violent Behavior: trashing a hotel room and damaging private property (charged by Walburga as Sirius damaged Black family properties), physical violence against paparazzi

(Alleged) Fraud: embezzlement and tax evasion, actually comitted by his (asset) manager, Peter, who fraudulently used Sirius’ wealth and invested using his name in questionable business opportunities, mostly regarding property handling and real estate investments.

Criminal Negligence, Endangerment and Involuntary Manslaughter: A gas leak related explosion happaned at one of the properties that Peter got involved with in Sirius’ name, which unfortunately resulted in the death of 12 people. As Sirius was the landlord/investor, and he already had a criminal record, he had to face criminal charges, including imprisonment as on paper, he was the one recklessly ignoring safety regulations. After his second album flopped financially, and he got very publicly disowned, the rumor of his teorethical money problems sort of solidified the charges. It was later proven that he was not responsible as Peter fraudulently used his name and assets without his knowledge, so Sirius got released after 5 years.

[aurelion-solar]

HEARTSTEEL BIO & MEMBERS

HEARTSTEEL is a virtual pop group featuring reimagined versions of League of Legends champions Kayn, Ezreal, Sett, Yone, K’Sante, and Aphelios. A group of dynamic daredevils dedicated to unapologetic individuality and bold, creative expression, HEARTSTEEL is set to blaze a path to success on their own terms after each member's failed solo careers. The group’s personality and sound draws inspiration from modern music collectives, and a range of influences from across genres and eras, culminating in a bold and fearless one-of-a-kind identity. The band’s debut single, PARANOIA, pushes the boundaries of pop music with an eclectic infusion of hip hop and electronic influences and relentless, playful energy.

SETT is the founder and co-leader of HEARTSTEEL, who started the band after being dropped from his first label. Inspired by the bold, aggressive styles of hip-hop, Sett designed the group's outfits for the PARANOIA music video and collaborated with ØZI on his rap verse.

As HEARTSTEEL’s co-leader, K'SANTE uses his talents as a singer and creative director to shape the band’s vision. In collaboration with Tobi Lou, K’Sante’s emotionally-attuned lyricism draws inspiration from R&B and hip-hop.

EZREAL first rose to stardom through a manufactured bubblegum-pop hit. As part of HEARTSTEEL, he’s found new freedom in controlling what he creates. Collaborating with BAEKHYUN of EXO, this charming vocalist takes inspiration from his fans around the world.

KAYN is a wildcard, channeling his rebellious streak through Rhaast, his onstage alter-ego. Kicked out of his former band, the multi-genre rapper and instrumentalist leans into everything new and experimental. Collaborating with Cal Scruby, Kayn pushes the envelope wherever he is.

As HEARTSTEEL’s primary instrumentalist and lyricist, APHELIOS brings a quiet genius to the band’s songwriting and composition. Though he rarely speaks, his pursuit of musical perfection guides the group. With his array of instruments (and a little help from his twin sister Alune), Aphelios aims for new creative heights.

Once a producer on international pop hits, YONE grew disillusioned with the music industry’s idea of success. Now revitalized as part of HEARTSTEEL, Yone brings an analytical focus and sharp production skills to the band. His passion for electronic music and meticulous attention to detail shapes their sound.

[kathlare]

bed chem

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In the heart of New York City, a shared moment of creativity blossoms between Amelie and Lando. Amid playful banter and the warmth of their connection, vulnerability emerges, allowing them to bridge unspoken emotions. As music weaves their dynamic together, their bond deepens, blending lighthearted teasing with heartfelt sincerity.

Wordcount: 1.7 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

May 10th, 2024 - New York City, NY

Amelie’s apartment in New York was a reflection of her: eclectic, warm, and effortlessly stylish. The faint sound of cars honking from the streets below filtered in through slightly cracked windows, mixing with the soft hum of music from the speakers. Benny, her docile gray ragdoll cat, was sprawled out on Lando’s lap, purring contentedly while Björn darted around, chasing a piece of crumpled paper he’d stolen from the counter.

—This is it. I’m never leaving,— Lando announced dramatically, running a hand through Benny’s silky fur. He leaned back on the couch, his legs stretched out, looking entirely too comfortable in his sweatpants and hoodie. —I’ll just move in and live here with you and Benny. Björn can have the couch.—

—Björn wouldn’t let you, even if you begged,— Amelie teased, leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of tea in her hands. —He barely tolerates me most days.—

As if on cue, Björn darted up to Amelie, swiped at her ankle playfully, and bolted off again. She rolled her eyes but smiled, taking a sip of her tea.

Lando watched her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. —Speaking of begging…—

Amelie groaned, already sensing where this was going. —No. Absolutely not.—

—Oh, come on!— Lando set Benny down gently and stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides. He stopped in front of her, hands pressed together like he was praying. —Just one song. Please, Ames. I’ve been patient. I didn’t say anything when you wouldn’t show me snippets during the gala. I deserve this.—

—You deserve nothing, Norris,— Amelie said, her tone playful but firm. She turned back toward the kitchen, but he followed her like a shadow, practically clinging to her side.

—Not even a little sneak peek?— he pressed, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze.

Amelie sighed, setting her mug down. —You’re impossible.—

—But you like it,— he said with a cheeky grin.

—Unfortunately, yes,— she muttered, pretending to think it over. Finally, she threw her hands up. —Fine. One song. But no commentary until it’s over. And if you don’t like it, you’re not allowed to say anything.—

—Deal.— Lando’s grin widened, boyish and triumphant.

She grabbed her keys from the counter, motioning for him to follow. —Come on. Studio’s downstairs.—

The small recording studio was tucked into the building’s lower level, a cozy space filled with instruments, stacks of notebooks, and the faint scent of coffee and lavender. Lando looked around, curiosity lighting up his face as he ran a hand over the keys of a piano.

Amelie booted up her laptop, scrolling through files until she found the one she was looking for. —Okay, sit there,— she instructed, pointing to the small couch in the corner. —And no interrupting.—

—You’ve got my full attention, Ames,— Lando said, holding up his hands innocently before plopping down.

The room filled with the soft opening chords of Bed Chem. Amelie glanced at Lando as the first lines played, his expression instantly shifting. His posture straightened, his eyes fixed on her, and his lips parted slightly as the lyrics began to sink in.

"I was in a sheer dress the day that we met We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec You're friendin' me up so we could connect And what are the odds? You sent me a text…"

His brows lifted, a mix of surprise and amusement washing over his face.

Amelie didn’t look at him directly, choosing instead to focus on organizing some papers on the desk. She knew this song would catch him off guard—it was personal, maybe the most personal thing she’d written.

As the song reached the chorus, she chanced a glance at him.

"Who's the cute boy with the white jacket And the thick accent? Like… Maybe it's all in my head But I bet we'd have really good bed chem…"

Lando’s jaw dropped slightly. —Wait… what?— he muttered, breaking the no-interruption rule.

Amelie paused the track, spinning her chair to face him. —What? You don’t like it?—

—Are you joking? I... This is... You wrote this about me?— he stammered, running a hand through his hair as a slow grin spread across his face.

—Maybe,— Amelie said coyly, her cheeks warming under his intense gaze.

Lando stood, crossing the room in two long strides. He stopped just short of her, his hands finding the arms of her chair as he leaned down. —“Bed chem”? That’s a bold lyric, Ames.—

—Bold, but accurate,— she shot back, her voice steady despite the way her heart was racing.

Lando stared at her for a moment before letting out a low laugh. —You’re something else, you know that?—

—Takes one to know one, Norris.—

He tilted his head, his blue eyes locking onto hers. —You’re obsessed with me. Admit it.—

—You’re the one who begged to hear my songs,— Amelie countered, her voice dropping slightly, teasing.

Lando’s gaze flicked to her lips for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. —You’re right. I did. And now… I think I’m even more obsessed with you than before.—

Before she could respond, he closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was anything but soft. It was intense, consuming, his hands sliding from the chair’s arms to cup her face as he deepened it.

Amelie responded in kind, her hands finding their way to his hoodie, pulling him closer. The kiss was electric, charged with every unspoken word and emotion they hadn’t yet voiced. When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

—So, you liked the song then?— Amelie asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

—Ames,— Lando murmured, his voice rough, —I fucking loved it.—

Amelie smirked, still catching her breath, her fingers playing with the hem of Lando’s hoodie. —That’s a relief. Would’ve been awkward if you didn’t.—

—Oh, it’s awkward alright,— Lando teased, his voice low, his accent. His hands slid from her face to rest on her waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the soft fabric of her shirt. —You just casually dropped a song about us and acted like it was nothing.—

—It’s not nothing,— Amelie replied, her tone matching his, teasing and bold. Her hands slipped under his hoodie, her palms skimming his stomach, which tensed under her touch. —I just thought you deserved a little surprise. That’s all.—

—A little surprise?— he echoed, laughing under his breath. His lips brushed against hers, feather-light, as he whispered, —You know what you’re doing to me, don’t you?—

Her smile widened as she leaned in, kissing him again, slower this time, savoring the way his hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer. His touch was possessive, but not demanding; it was like he was savoring the moment as much as she was.

Lando broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw to her neck, leaving a path of soft kisses that made her shiver. —You drive me insane, Ames,— he murmured against her skin, his voice muffled but no less intense.

Amelie tilted her head back slightly, giving him more access, her fingers curling into the waistband of his sweatpants. —You say that like it’s a bad thing,— she teased, though her voice came out breathier than she intended.

Lando chuckled, the sound vibrating against her neck. —Not bad. Just dangerous. Very, very dangerous.—

—And here I thought you liked living on the edge,— Amelie quipped, though her playful tone faltered as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below her ear.

Lando pulled back slightly, his eyes darkening as they met hers. —I do. Especially when it’s with you.—

Amelie’s heart raced as he pulled her to her feet, his hands steady on her waist. Their faces were inches apart, and the intensity in his gaze sent a thrill through her. Without breaking eye contact, he guided her backward until she was pressed against the edge of the desk.

—You’re trouble,— he said, his voice husky, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his hands slid under her shirt, his touch warm against her skin.

—Takes one to know one,— she whispered, pulling him closer by the drawstrings of his hoodie.

Lando captured her lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent. His hands roamed her back, her sides, exploring in a way that left her breathless. Amelie’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, earning a low groan from him that sent heat coursing through her.

The world outside the studio faded away, leaving only the two of them, completely lost in each other. Lando’s kisses grew more intense, his hands bolder as he lifted her onto the desk effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, their bodies pressed together in perfect sync.

—Ames,— he murmured against her lips, his voice ragged, filled with longing.

—What?— she asked, her own voice unsteady as she looked into his eyes, her cheeks flushed.

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. —I bet we’d have really good bed chem.—

Amelie laughed softly, pulling him back into another kiss. —Only one way to find out, Norris.—

[author-a-holmes]

Your turn~ ∞

Thank you for the ask, Lovely! <3 ^_^

This one's going back to my pre-teen years (2001) lol. Has some angsty tone in the singers voice, but the lyrics have always gutted me <3 I'm a closet romantic; Sue me ;-)

The original ASK post can be found HERE

Rules; Put an "∞" in my inbox, and I'll shuffle my music player, and give you my favourite lyric from the song that comes up.

"I know now, just quite how, my life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind; I'll stay with you for all of time"

The Calling - Wherever You Will Go

[jennistarjs]

Rings of Power Characters Do The Christmas Quiz

Team Elves:

Galadriel – Thinks she always knows the right answer and will argue with anyone who disagrees with her. Gets in a huge argument with 'Annatar' about the lyrics to 'Last Christmas' which drowns out half of the music round.

Elrond – The designated person to write down his team's answers. Uses the opportunity to correct Galadriel's wrong answers. Secretly wishes he was on Durin's team - they look like they're having more fun.

 Gil-galad – Wrote the quiz, so is not allowed to compete.

 Celebrimbor – Excels at anything to do with history or translation. Absolutely abysmal in the music round.

 Cirdan – Only knows things that happened in the First Age, anything modern completely passed him by.

 Arondir – Backs up Galadriel when she insists on her wrong answers, but when he occasionally has the right answer, she will listen to him.

 Team Dwarves:

Durin IV – Too busy getting the beers in and making sure everyone is wearing a Christmas hat.

 Disa – Aces the music round.

 King Durin III – Asleep in a chair - he's had a long day fighting Balrogs.

 Narvi – Tries to secretly get the right answers from Celebrimbor using a very complex series of hand gestures. Gets discovered and promptly thrown off the team.

 

Team Pelargir:

Theo – Texts in a corner and refuses to get involved, but has excellent knowledge of current events which he will throw out here and there.

 Estrid – Will sit there silently until she suddenly comes up with the right answer for a random question just at the last minute.

 Isildur – Talks himself into knots trying to figure out the right answers to the cryptic Christmas crossword round and misses the rest of the quiz as a result.

 

Team Numenoreans:

Elendil – He knows a lot of the right answers but he loyally waits for Miriel to say it. If she doesn't, he politely suggests it.

 Miriel – Knows Elendil could win the quiz singlehandedly and sometimes pretends not to know the answer just so he can suggest it.

 Pharazon – Googles the answers under the table.

 Earien – Horrifically competitive and will shout down the quiz organiser if she thinks the correct answers are wrong.

 Valandil – Just wants to have a nice time in the pub and didn't ask for any of this.

Kemen – Wasn’t invited. Now blocked from the group chat.

 

Team Halflings (plus Stranger):

Nori and Poppy – They only have the answers to the Christmas food round. They completely ignore the rest of the rounds in favour of eating their way through a huge cheeseboard.

 The Stranger – Comes up with the answers for the previous rounds in the middle of the current round. Gets super confused when he realises they've already moved on.

 Tom Bombadil – Has the most eclectic knowledge. Knows the answers to the obscure stuff but cannot for the life of him work out the anagram of 'Whtie Chrstimas'.

 

Team Bad Guys:

Adar – The only one who beats Elrond in the literature and poetry round. Stops the rest of the Orcs from declaring war on the Elves when they lose the music round, but only just.

 Sauron – Wanders around in the form of Annatar sowing the seed of doubt into the Elves minds until he gets distracted in his argument with Galadriel. The night ends when Durin throws a beer over him.

(The Elves win, mostly because of Elrond, but also because Gil-galad marks the quizzes and gives them lots of sneaky half points)

[twelvroses]

SUMMARY ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤRESURRECTION is a mixtape released by South Korean rapper LIZ, under VALENTINE RECORDS. The tape was released through streaming services on December 20th, 2024, and was not promoted nor were any official singles released. RESURRECTION marks the first solo music to be released by LIZ following the disbandment of her girl group BOUQUET in 2021, and her subsequent unsuccessful appearances on survival shows NEXTUP (2022) and DREAMQUEST (2024). Every track on RESURRECTION was written by LIZ, and her name dominates the production credits as well. The tracklist delves into a variety of genres and sounds, with LIZ herself calling the mixtape 'purposefully eclectic,' explaining that she wanted to explore 'a hundred different versions of myself. Some songs are written from my point of view, some from the point of view of the person people think I am, the person I was supposed to be in Bouquet, the person I'm scared of becoming. You burn away one, and another is born.'

"TITLE TRACK" (KIND OF) ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤ In spite of the lack of promotion behind RESURRECTION, a music video for the sixth track, MANTRA (feat. MiO), was uploaded to Valentine Records' official YouTube channel on December 25th. The inclusion of MiO on the song, and again in it's video, caused a frenzy online; the j-pop heavyweight hadn't been seen in two years, and her fans had already accepted the idea that she may never come back - and it's safe to say a LIZ mixtape was the last place they'd expect to be seeing her again. The structure of MANTRA presents it as a duet; the girls sing the chorus together and take a verse each. It wasn't hard for MiO's starved fans to latch onto MANTRA, helping LIZ's far humbler fandom to get the clip's views into the hundreds of millions. While LIZ fans celebrated this success, it begged the question of why MANTRA was never released as a real single.

The video depicts LIZ and MiO as fugitives, on the run in a futuristic city (per the traditional aesthetic of VALENTINE's new gen artists.) Through glimpses of their arrest warrants, we see that MiO is wanted for 'killer runs,' and shortly after, that LIZ is charged with 'armed bobbery.' The video does not try to take itself seriously, ending on a cliffhanger as the girl's getaway car flies over an ascending bridge, over the edge of which a waterfall of pursuing police cars fall.

Perhaps referencing MiO's penchant for decorative lowercase, the final frame of the video presents a message; 'ManY HAVE tRiED.'

TRACKLISTING ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤRESURRECTION would receive mixed reviews; the biggest point of contention being the tone of the record; switching, sometimes abruptly, between moods. The silliness or vulgarity of certain tracks were also criticized. Ultimately, however, the mixtape was well received, considered a strong display of LIZ's talents, highlighting her rapping but also displaying her vocal ability, as well as production skills and lyricism. The featuring artists present on the record also drew interest to LIZ, all with substantially bigger fanbases than her own. LUKE, the most credited producer in VALENTINE history, with a hip-hop career of his own spanning from the early 00s, is notoriously hard to get on the other side of the recording booth these days, and J-pop superstar MiO hasn't shown her face in two years. Fans of theirs were desperate to hear their idols again, and they rallied enthusiastically to support LIZ in turn. Fans of TAROT, however, weren't so happy to hear JORDEN's explicit lyrics, and took their frustrations out on LIZ even though he'd reportedly written the verse himself.

001. LOWLIFE PRINCESS. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

002. LIT. (feat. LUKE) Written by Liz, LUKE. Produced by LUKE.

003. PLUG IT, CHARGE IT, WORK IT. Written by Liz, Jang Kitae. Produced by Deer.

004. BURN IT UP. Written by Liz, Ahn Hayana. Produced by Liz, Ahn Hayana.

005. CHEETOS. (feat. JORDEN of TAROT) Written by Liz, Kim Jorden. Produced by Deer.

006. MANTRA. (feat. MiO) Written by Liz, MiO. Produced by Liz.

007. INTERLUDE: WHITE HOT ROOM. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

008. WITCH HUNT. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

009. ULTIMATE EVOLUTION. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz, LUKE, Kwon Ahin.

010. ANIMAL FARM. Written by Liz. Produced by Kwon Ahin.

011. FORGIVE ME. Written by Liz. Produced by Liz.

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤUP NEXT ㅤㅤ. . .ㅤㅤbutterfly effect.

[weirdo-daylist]

[astrangetorpedo]

It's Saturday night at Otherlands Coffee Shop. The space looks about the same as it has for the past decade of weekend concerts. A small group of people drinking lattes or craft brews sits around the eclectically shellacked tables while Julien Baker takes the makeshift stage with her baby blue electric Fender. Behind Baker, plate-glass windows are beading with rain. Brake lights from passing vehicles roll over the room, the glare catching the metal plating of her guitar…

It has been a standard evening so far, as coffee-house singer-songwriter sessions go. A folk duo has played a few by-the-book ballads. People are talking quietly. But when Baker takes the mic - her guitar affixed to her tiny frame with a rainbow strap - the atmosphere of the place changes. It's hard to say what exactly does it. Baker is five feet tall and looks, by her own admission, to be about 12 years old, though she turned 20 in September. She wears an unremarkable blue jacket and gray t-shirt, a look she has described in interviews as "level-one RuneScape clothes." She's up there alone.

Baker begins her set with a single guitar note, held for a long moment before she begins, in a quiet and urgent alto "Do you think that there's a way this could ever get too far?" - covering the question with reverb before abandoning it. "I know I saw your hand," she continues, "when I went out and wrapped my car around the streetlamp." She pronounces streetlamp sweetly, drawing it out, the way you'd fixate on something you loved.

The lyric is a reference to the time, when Baker was 17, that she drove her car off the road, shattering the windshield enough so that she was unable to see as a 25-foot-tall light pole crashed towards her. The concrete post split Baker's car cleanly in two but somehow left her entirely untouched.

"Blacktop" - which will be the first track on her debut solo album, due out October 23rd - is a lonely song, maybe her loneliest, though it has some strong competition. When she asks, in the next verse, that some intervening divine, the same that saved her life, come visit me in the back of an ambulance," it is with the longing of something barely missed, rather than any certainty in her good fortune.

The feel at Otherlands, as Baker earnestly continues her set, gives definition to the phrase, "you could hear a pin drop." If people were not paying attention before, they are now. Previously unremarkable environmental details - the rain outside and the hush of the room - seem pulled into Baker, collapsed into her intimate, pining music.

If VH1 ever makes a Behind the Music: Julien Baker, it will play out something like this: A small girl with a big voice grows up in the far suburbs of Memphis. She works a night shift through high school, spends her free time hanging out at the skatepark; she smokes cigarettes, plays hymns at her small church, and figures out an electric guitar in her dad's living room. She forms a punk band with her friends. They call themselves "The Star Killers" and play all-ages shows in community centers and neighborhood pool houses. She gets a girlfriend, gets into drinking, gets some dumb tattoos. Starts touring when she isn't in school. Applies herself. Makes it to state college, where she records a lonely record. The record is really good. People hear the record, share the record, and she gets signed. What's next is history.

At least, it seems like that will be the case, if recent articles comparing Baker and her forthcoming solo album to Rilo Kiley or Natalie Prass and calling her music "equal parts agony and burgeoning wisdom" (NPR), "crushing" (Stereogum), "wise" (Vulture)," a study in contradiction, both fragile and steely at the same time"

Morgan Jon Fox, the Memphis filmmaker, describes hearing Baker's music for the first time this way: "This very gentle young woman stepped up and started playing these songs, and it was one of these moments in life that genuinely felt golden, when you see something that is so special, and so fragile, that is just on the precipice of taking off."

Fox went on to use selections from Baker's forthcoming album throughout his most recent project, a miniseries called Feral, and cites it as perhaps his foremost influence for the project. "I got obsessed with it," he says. "I listened to it while I was writing and in the car while I was finding locations. It's lyrically just very wise beyond her years."

It is easy to talk about the precocity of Baker's music, since she is young, but just talking about the precocity makes it seem as if Baker is a 5-year-old playing sonatas to an auditorium. The image doesn't convey how moving songs like "Blacktop" or "Go Home" ("The side of the road in a ditch when you find me," sings Baker, "... more whiskey than blood in my veins") are, and how Baker's particular talents are as much emotional as they are technical.

"I've never really encountered somebody who has the ability to resonate so broadly with their songs," says Sean Rhorer, whose label, 6131 Records, will release Baker's debut. "I posted about it on Facebook, and my mom responded to it," he laughs. "But then, dudes in punk bands who are associated with us are all about it as well. For me personally, it's like I've listened to a song of hers 200 times and on the 200th time I am just in my car weeping. She has that ability."

Pending release of "Sprained Ankle" in the next week, Baker is doing what she usually does: going to class at Middle Tennessee State University, where she is studying to be an English teacher. She started school as a recording engineering major, but quit the program after a professor told her that if he was going to teach the class one thing, it would be to "take their passion and monetize it.”

"I guess I just believe in the lyceum model of education," she told me when we met in Murfreesboro on a weekend in early September. "I think you should educate to build your intellect, not to make money?"

In the past few months, Baker has flown to Los Angeles to shoot a music video and to Richmond, Virginia, to record at Matthew E. White's Spacebomb Studios, the same studio that produced Natalie Prass' debut album. She's been on the radio, toured to New York, and played around 20 shows, both as Forrister and as Julien Baker. She's currently keeping it together by drinking copious amounts of what she calls "AA-meeting coffee", meaning the strong stuff (Baker is now sober by choice). When we met, I noticed that her hands were marked up with scribbled English assignments and Sharpied X's for being underage from the two gigs she'd played in Memphis that week, driving the four hours back to MTSU in the early hours of the morning.

A year and a half ago, if you'd asked Baker whether she'd be trying to balance a burgeoning career and travel schedule with her schoolwork, she would have looked at you like you were crazy. The songs that make up her album were recorded as a one-off, a side project while she was away from her band. She illustrated the album cover and released it for free on Bandcamp. She didn't think much of it. "Whatever happened with it, I was like, oh, cool," Baker says.

People quickly started to share the album, including a video version of her song, "Something" - shot in a Memphis parking garage by local filmmaker Breezy Lucia - but it wasn't until Rhorer and 6131 contacted her about a three-record deal that she realized what was happening. On her new label's advice, she took the record down from Bandcamp until it could be mastered and formally released.

A favorite mantra of Baker's comes from the high school days she spent around D.I.Y. house venue and record label, Smith7. "Let's all fail together," she repeated, as we drove around Murfreesboro. "At least we'll have each other."

The Smith7 shows were put on exclusively as benefits for charity; records produced without hope of material recompense. "We called it investing in people," says Brian Vernon, the founder and backbone of the lab which has produced locally-familiar bands like Wicker, The Holiday, and Nights Like These.

It was a scene that taught Baker to be wary of the music industry that can, as she phrases it, "put best things to meanest use." (A quote from Paradise Lost: "O little knows / Any, but God alone, to value right / The good before him, but perverts best things / to worst abuse, or to their meanest use.")

But Baker is quick to acknowledge how fortunate she is at the moment; how, not that long ago, even this starter level of success seemed a distant hope. "Being able to support yourself with your art - that's the dream, you know?" Baker mused. She sounds both hesitant and excited. "It sunk in for me when I was able to hand my roommate utility and rent [money]. I was like, 'Wow, that's real."

At Otherlands, Baker introduces herself this way: "I'm Julien, and I don't mean to bum you out. That's just the kind of songs I write." She smiles and pushes back her messy blonde hair from her face, a tic. "You know, you sing about it, and you exorcise it."

A guess at why the 20-year-old's songs are so broadly resonant: They all take place at a familiar, perhaps universal moment of surrender. People connect with it. Her surrender is manifold - laid at the feet of the audience, an ex-girlfriend who left her in a parking lot ("I should have said something," sings Baker, "but I couldn't find something to say"), the friend who once picked her up as a teenager, drunk and lost, from the side of a highway, or an invisible God. She always starts slow, voice drawn out over echoey guitar. As the song builds, she allows for considerable tension, enough space left between verses that you think she might turn away or give up at any time.

But then there always is a moment, about halfway through, where it's as if she makes an unannounced decision that this one is all or nothing, and suddenly she is pure energy. When you see her perform, I swear there is a point when she opens her mouth - I mean really opens it - and she appears to grow three sizes. "Like one of those little styrofoam things you put in water and then they get huge," Morgan Jon Fox laughingly agrees. This shift is her simultaneous will-to-power and an invocation for the listeners to join her. She is no longer suffering alone.

The lyrical loneliness is variously romantic and existential, sometimes within the same breath. Baker, who says she "played the worship circuit" in high school, makes music about God, but is not a Christian musician, to the extent that Christian music is a well-defined and (in my heretical opinion) musically underwhelming genre. There are Christian music labels and Christian music festivals, and Baker is not a part of that scene, though she likes Underoath and Pedro the Lion and Manchester Orchestra - bands that have, more or less explicitly, copped to their love of Jesus. She was devastated when Mike Reynolds, the guitarist for Christian metalcore unit For Today, took to Twitter and declared, "There's no such thing as a gay Christian."

"Sometimes, I haven't played that song," she told me, referring to "Rejoice", a tour-de-force and one of the best tracks on the forthcoming album, "because I felt I needed to hide a part of myself in order to not be made fun of." "Rejoice" begins with Baker wandering around her neighborhood: "Jumping the fence, veins all black. Sleep on a bench in the parking lot." Her voice is low, almost gravelly. "Birthday," she intones. "Call the blue lights. Curse your name when I find I'm still awake." She continues, emphatic, underwhelmed: “choking on smoke, singing your praise" and, without much conviction, "but I think there's a God, and he hears either way. I rejoice. And complain. I never know what to say."

And then she backs up and basically shouts, as desperate as anything else: "I rejoice ... But then why did you let them leave and then make me stay?" Her voice would break if it weren't so strong.

The thing about it, the thing that gets me - despite the fact that I haven't lifted up anybody's holy name since I was in middle school and assigning sexier worship lyrics onto particularly handsome church camp counselors - is that, per Julien Baker, this shit is real as it gets. There is no pretense, no particular evangelism, just the barefaced results of a young woman who is searching. I don't think you have to believe in anything, or come from any specific background, to respect the search, even to feel it deeply.

If there's a mythos to suburban teens - especially punk kids from the suburbs, who, like Baker, grew up hanging out at indoor skateparks and smoking in big box parking lots - it is that they are bored. See: the Arcade Fire anthem "The Suburbs," the chorus to which rejoinders, "We were already bored. We were already, already bored." There's an attendant feel - a beautiful and washed-out-in-a-basement-romance-while-smoking-weed-in-the-summertime sort of thing.

Baker does not seem bored or washed-out. Like her music, she comes off notably uncynical and deeply interested in other people's music, in workers' justice (she uses her fluent Spanish to volunteer for an organization that assists immigrant laborers), in literature, in elementary education, in big questions.

"Why," she asked me offhandedly in the middle of a conversation about Faust, a leaf-eared copy of which she keeps in her room next to a hot-pink record player, "were German writers so interested in water suicide?"

For Baker, making her music and trying to fix bad things in the world are inseparable ideas, though there is no particular proselytizing in her lyrics or sound. It is more about the hows and wheres and whos of the process. She's a proud product of the Memphis grassroots, of the idea that you make things with your friends and do it for someone besides yourself.

And if she has a central fear about the recent attention her music has been getting, it is that she'll have to change the way she makes music, that she won't get to spend as much time writing with her band or crafting her own songs in basic anonymity.

"When you are in The Star Killers," she says, "you have the liberty to do whatever you want, musically. The biggest fear is getting what you want and having it not be what you really want."

But at Otherlands, surrounded by a crowd that the young musician has effortlessly transfixed, it's clear that any apprehension on Baker's part won't stop people from listening. Whatever she is putting out there, people who hear it are picking up on it.

As she finishes her set, Baker seems confident, ready, and, yes, somehow wise beyond her years. Most of all, it seems clear that she's doing precisely what she was born to do.

"When I have these great opportunities," she says, "I have to remember they are transient. But when it comes down to it, this is the only thing that makes sense to me."

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