#sunshine daydream 'verse

[hearts-hunger]

i'll be seeing you || sam kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: When you're sad, Sam knows just how to comfort you. || Standalone in the Sunshine Daydream universe

Pairings: Sam x Reader | Genre: fluff, h/c | Word Count: 2.5k | Warnings: none, unless you count being sad about space

A/N: Truly I don't know where this even came from but as soon as I thought of it I knew it was perfect for space buff Sammy and his Birdie baby. I hope you like it! ♡

Swiping your wet face with your sleeve, you blinked and tried to see the television screen through the blur of tears. Your throat was tight, a hot, choked feeling of rising emotion flooding you the longer you watched; when you finally couldn't keep back a sob, it felt almost satisfying to let the wave crash over you. 

The spunky, sweet little face of Laika the space dog filled the screen, bringing another crumpled sob out of you as the narrator spoke somberly of her one-way trip into space. You didn't know why you'd picked the documentary to watch while you sat on the living room floor and folded laundry; you knew it would only made you sad, and here you were, crying your eyes out as you stacked Sam’s folded shirts in a neat pile.

Maybe you'd needed a good cry. There was something relieving in expressing this grief for the little Soviet pup who’d trusted the hands that finally took her off the street only to send her some place they knew she wouldn't come back from. You thought of your own puppy, your sweet Rosie, and felt another wave of sadness at the thought of her all alone, waiting for someone to fetch her back home. 

When the documentary ended and the credits rolled with another picture of Laika, the caption bearing a memorial to her and all the other animals that had furthered space exploration, you cried like a baby.

“Oh, man,” you said, burying your face in a warm dish towel fresh from the dryer. You laughed a little at your own headlong rush into a bona-fide crying jag. “This was so stupid.”

You went to put on the next recommended documentary, one about the Mars rover Opportunity that you knew would make you cry just as hard, for some reason wanting to keep the weird high of catharsis going for a little longer. You put on another load of laundry while it played, listening to the story of the little rover’s explorations and discoveries, sniffling over your dryer sheets and laundry detergent.

The front door opened just as the movie was telling you that the scientists at NASA played Billie Holiday’s “I’ll Be Seeing You” for Oppy in their final transmission. You were in the middle of bawling your eyes out but quickly turned the TV off and dried your face, a little bashful to have Sam find you in such a state by your own doing; you couldn't hide your blotchy face and red eyes, but you tried your best to look presentable and mentally stable as your boyfriend and your puppy came in.

Rosie came in first, padding right into the living room to greet you with her wagging tail and lolling tongue. Her fur was a little damp; it looked like the end of her walk had been a rainy one, but you knew she’d enjoyed it. You didn't even mind her wet paws tramping over your unfolded laundry, scuffing your hands over her fur and kissing her soft head.

“Oh, Rosie,” you said miserably. “I’ll never send you into space. Never. I promise.”

She gave a soft bark as if to agree with you. You buried your face in her fur and felt more tears track down your face, comforted by her warmth and happiness to see you.

You took a deep breath and held Rose's face for a moment. “I look like a mess for your daddy, don't I?”

She licked your face, and you gave a watery laugh. 

“Okay, okay,” you said. “You’re right. Let me go wash my face.”

You went to splash cold water on your face, wincing a little at your disheveled, emotional appearance in the mirror, but there was nothing to be done for it. You went to put on a kettle, thinking Sam might like something warm to drink after his chilly, rainy walk.

“Hi, birdie baby.”

You smiled as Sam came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You turned your face for a kiss, and he happily obliged.

“How was your walk?” you asked.

“Wet.” He kissed your cheek and drew back to brush his rain-damp curls from his face. “Rosie got into some puddles, so she has a good time. How are you? Feeling any better?”

You'd declined to go on the walk with them, needing some time alone after work to decompress. Before you could tell him you were feeling nice and rested now, though, he saw your face for the first time since he'd come home.

“Have you been crying?” he asked, bewildered and worried. He shifted into panic mode, hovering like a mother hen. “What’s wrong, birdie? What happened?”

You were a little embarrassed to tell him, but you couldn't let him worry. 

“Nothing happened,” you said gently. “Nothing’s wrong.”

The kettle whistled, and you moved to take it off the heat. He only watched you as you started to make two cups of tea.

“Why’re you crying, then?” he asked.

You gave a rueful, wobbly smile. “It’s silly, really.”

He came close, then. “It’s not silly if it made you upset, birdie.” He accepted the mug you gave him. “Thank you. Please tell me why you're crying, sweetheart. Let me help.”

You sighed. “I watched a movie,” you said. “Two movies, actually.” Just the thought of Laika and Oppy was enough to make you feel al l twisted up inside again, and you blinked tears away. “It was stupid. I shouldn't have watched them.”

Sam huffed a bemused and mildly concerned laugh, seeming relieved it wasn't anything serious but still sensitive to your obvious emotional distress.

“What kind of movies, honey?”

You buried your face in your hands. “One about Laika, you know, the space dog? And one about Oppy the Mars rover.”

“Aw, birdie.” He pulled you in for a hug. “Made you said, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said pitifully, your head thumping against his chest. “It’s awful, Sam. Both of them being sent up there all alone. Those poor babies.”

He chuckled, and the sound was warm and rumbly in his chest. 

“I know it's sad,” he said. “That’s why I would never in a million years watch a movie about either of them. I'd have to check myself into a mental institution, I’d be so torn up about it.”

You took a deep breath and ran your hands over your face, your skin hot and your eyes stinging.

“Yeah. You might have to check me in now that I've watched them.”

Sam breathed a sympathetic laugh, brushing your hair from your face. 

“Silly girl,” he said. “If I'd known you were gonna watch sad documentaries while I'm gone, I would have made you come on our walk with us.”

You smiled. He knew you liked to go with him and Rosie for their evening walks around your quiet neighborhood, but you'd been tired and emotionally off-kilter after work today and had needed some time alone. He hadn't complained, had merely given you a kiss before he left, but now he'd come home to find you in tears over something as silly as a space documentary.

“Did it help, at least?” he asked kindly. “Sometimes it's nice to get out a good cry.”

You nodded and leaned into his touch. “It’s weird. But yeah, it helped. I’m glad you're home, though.”

He smiled. “Me too, birdie.” He gave you a smooch on your forehead before he pulled back from you. “I’m gonna get dinner started. Put on something cheerful if you're gonna watch anything else.”

“There was another one that sounded interesting,” you said, leaning against the counter to sip your tea. “It’s called Challenger: The Final Flight.”

“Oh, super,” he said dryly. “The one where the shuttle blows up before it even gets out of the atmosphere. That’ll be uplifting as hell.”

“No, is that really what happened?” you asked. Sam was nothing if not a space history buff, so you had no reason to doubt him, but you almost wanted to watch it.

“You can't watch that one right now, birdie,” he told you. “Not unless you really want to spend the whole rest of the night crying.”

You hummed. “Maybe I do.”

He laughed. “Well, I don't think I do. So let's save that for another night.”

You stayed in the kitchen while he worked, enjoying his company; Rosie padded in and settled under the table with a squeaky toy, chewing on the matted shape that had been so well-loved that you couldn't determine what kind of toy it had been originally.

You cradled your mug and breathed in the fragrant steam, watching Sam move about your kitchen in the familiar, domestic rhythm that always brought you comfort. He set soup to cooking, insisting that you needed something warm and hydrating after all that crying, and worked on it on as the rain pattered gently on the window.

“Bad day at work, birdie?” he asked, chopping up vegetables to go in the dutch oven of simmering broth.

You sighed. “Sort of. Exhausting is the best word for it, I guess. I was just really tired all day.”

He put his hand to your forehead, feeling for fever, and you breathed in the earthy, fresh scent the veggies had given him.

“You’re a little warm, honey,” he said. 

You sighed. A fever would explain the hair-trigger emotions you'd battled all day, as well as the fatigue that you couldn't quiet shake. Sam got you some medicine and coaxed you to take it with your tea.

“Why don't you call out for tomorrow?” he suggested. “I’ll stay home too, and we can cuddle in bed all day.”

That did seem awfully nice. It was supposed to rain all night and all day tomorrow, and spending the chilly, rainy day in bed with Sam sounded a lot better than going to work.

“Okay,” you agreed. You texted your boss and set your phone aside, ignoring the messages and emails with the assurance that they'd still be vying for your attention when you were feeling better.

“How was your day?” you asked.

He tapped the wooden spoon against the rim of the dutch oven and leaned against the counter.

“Good,” he said simply. “We got a lot done. Danny had to leave early to do something with Sunny, so we just decided to call it quits when he left. Can't do much without the heartbeat of the band, now can we?”

You smiled. You liked how all the guys valued the others’ unique talents and input into the music, and nobody knew better than them how much each of them contributed to the magic of the band. You remembered that Sam had been working on a new song, and you wanted to know what the boys had thought of it.

“How’d they like your new song?” you asked.

He grinned. “Smash hit, birdie. They loved it. Jake came up with some really cool licks for it, and of course Josh fixed up the parts of the lyrics I wasn't so sure about.”

“Aw, honey, I'm glad. I knew they'd like it.”

You set your mug on the counter and crossed to him, and he knew without you having to say anything that you wanted a hug. He held you close and squeezed you tight, giving a contented little groan as he did.

“I missed you today,” he said. “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” He kissed your nose. “And I'm sorry you made yourself sad watching movies you knew better than to watch.”

You gave a soft laugh. “They were pretty good, actually. Even if they were sad.”

He cradled your face in his hands and kissed you gently.

“I love you, birdie,” he said, tender and amused. 

“Even when I make questionable viewing choices?” you teased.

He smiled. “Yep. Even then.”

You lingered in the kitchen with him while dinner cooked, and you sat catty corner to him at the table while you ate, Rose safely between the two of you, dozing at your feet. When you'd tidied up after dinner, you joined him out on the porch to watch the rain while he smoked a cigarette, sipping your next cup of tea that you knew would be a staple of the homespun, gently effective doctoring Sam was planning to give you.

“You want to know something?” he asked.

You snuggled close to him. “Yeah. Tell me.”

He looked up at the hazy sky, his features gentle and tired and thoughtful.

“The first time I learned about Laika,” he said, “I came up with a better ending for her story.”

Your heart tilted. “What was it?”

He let out a slow breath. 

“I imagined she got out somehow,” he said softly. “That the man in the moon got her out of that death trap of a spaceship and took her with him. I laid awake in bed all night, looking at the moon through my window, thinking about her running around in the stars, chasing comets, playing with the bears of the Ursa constellations.”

He looked over at you, and for a moment, you saw a much younger Sam and felt the grief and love he’d felt for that little space pup.

He smiled. “I think she's happy, birdie,” he said. “I think she’s okay, somewhere out there.”

You felt the sting of tears again, and he chuckled softly as he cupped your cheek and brushed away the few that fell.

“Aw, honey, I didn't mean to make you cry again,” he said, soft and affectionate.

You gave him a watery smile. “I’m glad you told me that, Sam. It makes it better.” You thought his imagination was a very wonderful and tender place, making up songs and stories and pictures of playful starlight puppies and their kindly moonbeam companions.

“Can Oppy be with them too?” you asked. You wanted her to have a happy ending like the one Sam had imagined for Laika.

He smiled and gave you a gentle kiss. “Sure she can, birdie. They're both running around up there together.”

You wrapped your arms around him and rested against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as the rain fell. Loving Sam was so easy, as natural as breathing, and moments like these had always shown you that love was supposed to be gentle. Before Sam, you hadn't been sure what love was supposed to feel like; with him, you knew in every part of you that love was safe and tender, that it was made of shared sadness and joy, music and laughter and tears and stories that washed over your life as effortlessly as the tide, as steadily as the rain, as gently as the light of the moon.

“What was the song they played for Oppy when she powered off?” he asked. “I feel like I remember them playing a song for her.”

You snuggled closer. “‘I’ll Be Seeing You,’,” you said. “Bille Holiday.”

He rested his head on yours and hummed a little of Oppy's lullaby.

“I’ll find you in the morning sun,” he sang, his voice soft and beautiful and very gentle. “And when the night is new, I'll be looking at the moon, but I'll be seeing you.”

You hugged him tight.

“I love you, Sam,” you said softly. “Thank you for being so good to me.”

He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “Sweet birdie,” he said gently. “You're welcome. I love you too.”

taglist: @viagvf @allieisacrybaby @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @anthemheatwave @xserenax-13 @musicspeaks @mountain-in-springtime @stardustsecret @alwaysonthemend @madneedshelp @josh-iamyour-mama @dannythedog @thecoldwind @woyayaofdreams @joshkiszkapunchmeintheface @lostoverseer @jakesguitarpick @heartcannotsow @kissingkiszka @gold-mines-melting @lizzys-sunflower @iluvjoshkiszka @musicislove3389

join my taglist here!

(tumblr is awful at making tags work so i’m sorry if you’re not getting notifications!)

[sunsetsoft]

📩 ❛ What you’ve done you cannot undo ❜ @vaultdamned 🔆 ghost band – accepting!

ellie holds vincent in her gaze, both eyes blue, but one not quite as blue as the other. functioning, and close enough that anything less than deliberate extended eye contact would hide the discrepency, and harder still to identify the reason. stolen synth parts, but elinor's now. he sighs, thumbing the cold lipstick case in her pocket. 

"at a certain point, that has to be the point, vincent. right?" she thinks to everything she's done in the wastelands, thinks on every person she's befriended, lost. every double-cross of the institute, both ways, of valentine's admission on what the institude held on her. every person she'd killed in the name of information, in the name of science; in the name of her survival. he had to keep going. even as she became a person she hated, tried to hold onto the compassion he characterised himself by. 

"and it's the same for everyone else. actions started feeling more permanent since... before the first bombs fell. we have to live with what we've done, even when we can't put it right. but we can still try."

[sunshine-sparkle]

[cruel-kaya]

@chand-ki-priyatama ll @saagar-jaisi-aankhonwali

@kaya-being-an-academic

If you landed here just know I am "Kaya" ~ a sixteen year old poetess , daydreamer and a writer....

I am a sunshine core girlie although I associate myself with "Moonshine" cause being it you can light up someone's life in their darkest hour....

You can find me writing incomplete verses of my poems here or sometimes just sitting and humming a song....

Sometimes you'll see me sharing my miseries here or sometimes just presenting my inner monologue....

This blog is sort of my retreat , my safe space from the chaotic side of the world....

I want to fly in this world rather than being captured

I can feel emotions on a deep level

I am like an ocean full of infinite musings

I was never meant to be understood , I was crafted to write....

People say I talk like a book

But to me I am just "Moonshine" for I want to be the shine to someone's moon....

But I haven't found my moon yet so I keep on writing for someone whom I have never met or seen....

I am obsessed with dark academia , moon , poetries , animals , and many more things....

Art has always been a solace for me...

i am a friendly person , so feel free to reach out to me <3

Also I am in love with the idea of being in love , a hardcore inherent romanticist....

[arialerendeair]

Dreamling Fic Masterpost

Dreamling Masterpost

Decided it was high-time that I made a Masterpost of my Dreamling content because I have much of it! So here it is! If a fic is a part of a series, I'll link the series. All fics are complete unless listed in progress!

Bingo Masterpost | Ao3 Collection

An Immortal, an Endless, a Human-Turned-Dream-Eager Walk Into A Bar (and find a Missing Ray of Sunshine) |  15k

Those Who Kink Together, Stay Together | 4k

My Heart’s Protector | 5k

Make It Count | 120k

Well Matched | 31k

Dreaming of Warmth | 1.1k

Weathering A Storm | 11k

Synthetic Dreams | 7k

The Heart of an Endless | 4k

Half Your Age Plus Seven… Billion? | 10.7k

My Stranger | 6k

Iustitia | 9k

The War for The Dreaming | 32k

A Husband, A Consort, A Nightmare | 9k

Common Dating Misconceptions | 6k

A Bastion of Warmth | 7k

Ye Olde YouTube Love Story | 7k

The Not-So-Accidental Baby Acquisition | 5k

A Worthy Proposal | 7k

Hope of the Endless is Created, Taught, and Courted (Mostly In That Order) | 23k

Drifting with Dream | 12k

Dragon Wars | 39k

Summer Rain | 5k

Shifting Gears | 5k

The Barghest Nightmare | 19k

Hopefully Verse

Hopes & Dreams | 35k

Hoping Dinner Goes Well | 9.5

A Symbol of Hope | 3k

Hope Holds the Gates | 5.5k

Shattered Hopes and Rebuilt Dreams | 6k

Hope Destroys to Build Again | 4k

A New and Hopeful Future | 5k

The Art of Weapon-Related Seduction (As Observed by Hob Gadling & Dream of the Endless) Verse

The Art of Seduction Via Longbow | 12k

The Continuing Art of Seduction Via Weapons Demonstrations (And Leather Pants) | 11.5k

The Art of Nerdery (and Seduction) Via Lightsabers | 4k

Checkmate Verse

Discover Check, and Incidentally Mate | 6k

The Grandmaster Title (And Reward) | 13k

Dreamling Week 2023

A-Courting to You | 1.1k

Dragon Bonded | 5k

Anything | 3k

Pretending! Unless... | 4k

Jealousy Does Not Become Him | 4k

Or | 2.5k

All in a Day's Kidnapping | 6k

Standalone Dreamling Fics

Alexander is Endlessly Surprising | 30k

Vengeance Burns | 4k

The King Consort Goes to War | 8k

Nightmaric Catharsis | 15k

The Price | 22k

Begin, Muse, when the two now break and clash, Dream of the Endless and Lucifer Morningstar | 9k

The Decline in the Art of Kidnapping | 4k

Necessary Friction | 5k

Torment | 8k

Daydream in Love | 5k

In the Rain | 2k

Broken Pots Still Hold Water | 9k

A Dream of Rescue | 51k

Five Times the Dreaming Needed Dream - and One Time They Needed Each Other | 8k

Rescuing Hope of the Endless | 9k

On Fierce and Wild Wings | 33k

Hob Gadling, King Consort (And Friends) | 12.3k

Into the Unknown, Together | 4k

Learning to Say Goodbye | 1k

Struggle | 1.1k

The Storyteller | 2k

Lustful Daydreams | 3k

Songs and Sagas of a Fate Determined | 4k

Becoming Hope of the Endless | 6k | IN PROGRESS

While You Were Sleeping | 4k

Braided Longing | 13k

A Dream Model | 30k

A Dream of Dragons | 32k

Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Day? (AKA The Sonnet-Off) | 7.5k

Dreams Make Living Worthwhile | 63k

Broken Glass | 12k

Dethroned | 24k

A Family Stands Tall | 10k

A Blundered Beginning | 12k

What's a Bit of Death Between Friends | 9k

Call of the Wild | 28k

Rewrite the Stars | 60k

Old Town Road (AKA The "Hob is a Horse Girl" Fic) | 12k | IN PROGRESS

Well, That's Curious | 39k

Colour Forecasting (Co-authored with @blueberrymffn) 289k out of 625k posted)

Will be updated as I post more fic!

[ramayantika]

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬: 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

(Apna apna sab choose karlo 👀)

Bharatanatyam

The girl in red and gold. Never steps out of the house without a bindi, loves the sun a little too much and gets the perfect golden hour photos. Will drag you out in the sun to prove that her hair is brown. Looks no less than a goddess in traditionals, rocks desi wear as well as western, always the best dressed in the room and sometimes the overdressed one. A walking saree encyclopedia, dreams to have a large wardrobe just for her sarees. Will also lend you some of her sarees and drapes them so well. If you are wearing a saree for a date, ask her for help. Reads a lot of detective books maybe, ranging from Sherlock Holmes to Feluda. Has learnt martial arts too, armed with wit, got the best comebacks and will fight for her friends. Highly intimidating when you meet her first until you get to witness the soft sunshine version of her. Photogenic, loves the camera, could also be a model. Her walk radiates power and confidence. Ambitious and full of ideas, commands attention easily with a snap of ger fingers. Heads turn at her when she enters the room, an eloquent speaker because she is well read. Tries to spread happiness in her own ways, knows everyone in her neighbourhood, is friends with everyone, right from the little kids to the oldies in the park, the Mother hen of her group. Loves puppies and will cry while watching cute puppy videos. Cooks delicious dishes and watch her lash out if she finds out that you skipped breakfast. A pure soul, too kind and generous for the world and does her best in spreading happiness around her.

'It's honestly a choice which we have to make. We can choose to see everything as cold and heartless around us or start seeing at the brighter side of things. Trust me, the latter is a better choice. Why would someone want to live such a miserable life laced with bitterness and resent. I know I cannot singlehandedly make everything right in the world, but I can surely make a difference in at least a single person's life? Why focus on things at the greater scale when we can make changes that should starts from us?"

Odissi

The shy girl next door, writes poetry in her rough notebook, hopeless romantic and a daydreamer. For her, outing means a visit to the temple. Ardent admirer of all types of art, stares at temple sculptures and statues, and is also a history lover. Pink lip gloss, jasmine flowers and a doe-eyed beauty. Makes flower jewellery and will gift you many of her own works if you are her friend. Wears light coloured clothes and minimal accessories, light feminine, crushes over book characters and will make you see the best traits in yourself but forgets to look at the good in herself. Recites romantic poetry in front of the mirror and pretends to be someone's muse, replaces herself with the characters in period dramas Has gorgeous hair but will always keep them in a messy bun, but god when she lets her hair down, she looks like an angel. Her social life includes playing with children and narrating them stories and fairytales.

'His lips gently follow the trail of the small dots of sandalwood paste on her back. It forms a serpentine path on her skin and ends on the curve of her waist where his lips gently caress her soft skin, delighted at the treasure gifted by the perfumed trail.'

"You haven't even held hands with a boy and yet you can come up with this? How?"

"Oh, it's nothing. You have to see my writing journal and you will definitely believe that I am well versed in the arts of love."

"Arts of love? Who uses that?"

"Me. Now come, let's watch Jodha Akbar."

"Again?!"

Kathak

Kurtis and Anarkalis. Has long hair that is half of the time braided. Might also wear a parandi at events. Shayari aur ghazalein, listens to old Bollywood songs late at night under the moon on the terrace. Star gazing, late night deep conversations, vintage clothing, would write you hand written love letters. Knows hindustani music, sings late at night and sometimes in the early hours of dawn. Aankhon mein gehra kajal jise dekh na jane kitne uske aashiq bann gaye, deep eyes that will stare into your soul, loves to wear red lipstick and will wear silver jewellery with every outfit. To win her heart? Take her jhumke shopping. She is the desi pinterest aesthetic. Bases her personality on Sahibjaan from Pakeezah, Anarkali from Mughal-E-Azam, Umrao Jaan and Chandramukhi from Devdas. Has desi aesthetic moodboards on Pinterest and lives like it too minus the havelis and lots of expensive jewellery. If you are a poet, she will end up proposing you.

'जो मेरा नाम अपनी शायरी में अमर कर दे

मरूंगी तो केवल उस शायर के नाम'

"Umrao jaan 2.0 apni pariksha ki taiyari kare aapke non existent premi kavi ya shayar marks nahi dilayenge"

"Tauba tauba sara mood kharab kar diya"

Kuchipudi

Was made to learn dance and music as a child, knows how to play the veena or the sitar well, cannot sing but will play the instrument for you if you ask. Gold jewellery? No. Silver jewellery? No. Pearls? Absolutely! An all rounder, academically brilliant as well as in extra-curriculars, perfectionist and will breakdown at the slightest inconvenience. Loves to go on long walks, sunset photography, has a collection of journals and hauls stationary items. Collects fallen flowers and keeps them inside her books. soft smiles, long artistic fingers that always have ink spots, a small but a close friend group, wishes on flowers, so quiet that you might not her speak at times, notices the minute things about her friends and the people she meets. Looks too long into the mirror and loses herself, has too many questions but will never ask. Has pretty crazy dreams that could become book plots.

"Do you ever stare at your eyes in the mirror for a very long time? Do you feel your reflection change? Those eyes that look back at you... they have so much to say, they carry so many secrets inside them even though at a superficial level, it might seem that your reflection and you are the same, but it's not. When I look at myself in the mirror, I feel it's not me. I am not her nor am I anyone else. I feel I am a part of the galaxies, of stars and planets and of souls -- that I have existed here a long time ago and I have been reborn again for unknown reasons, reasons that somewhere my would would know. Do you not feel the same?"

Kathakali

Athletic, into sports, highly dramatic, can and will recite film dialogues at every situation, has a larger than life attitude, grand gestures and celebrations for her favourite people as well as for herself, always brimming with energy even at 3am, colourful flashy clothes that make her stand distinct from everyone, make-up game on point, a HUGE foodie, takes you to the best eateries and restaurants, indulges in pranks and all sorts of harmless mischief that makes her endearing, expresses everything just with her eyes. You can't say no to her because she will conjure such a facial expression that it would be difficult to say no which is why she gets away with mischief. Will debate about literature and philosophy, has a lot of knowledge about historical texts and scriptures, can easily make you laugh by imitating characters from stories and tales. Will also spam you with her thoughts and opinions on text and if you are in her close friend circle, keep your phone on because she will immerse herself about the latest book she read. Races with kids from her colony and lets them win, gully cricket vali didi, street smart, procrastinates assignments until the deadline is knocking at the door. Knows the secret spots in the city as well as their stories, has the best horror stories to narrate at a campfire.

"I know it's 2am, but is it okay if-"

"Even if I say no, you will tell me, but I am interested. Speak."

"What if all the characters in our epics were us, I mean like us normal human beings who achieved greatness and such divine status because of their work and somehow maybe that was the truth, but with time, we began thinking that we are not capable of becoming like them so we decided that we would take the credit of their hard work and replace it with magical powers and worship them, but not try and become like them? And somehow so many ideal kings, queen, warriors and artists when then look at us from heaven want us to achieve the same level of greatness like them? But they are sad that we think so less of ourselves? I am not denying God's presence though, don't get me wrong on that. I am talking about all the great people from stories that have been passed down to us. I do appreciate the creativity and imagination of the writers and poets involved, but what if we are actually failing to look more deeper into it. What if they want us to go beyond the veil of imagination in those stories and find ourselves in them?"

Manipuri

One word: Ethereal. Doesn't look like she belongs to this world. You saw her first at a waterfall, dressed in white and red shades, mostly prefers pastel shades, makes beautiful flower bouquets, has got a very melodious voice and when she sings by the waterfall with the swans sitting beside her, she appears like a water nymph. Playful eyes, whispers words, will wink and smile at you before disappearing into a run. She walks as if she is floating, got the lightest feet, soft dewy skin, nature's daughter. Sings before the Gods in temples, always has a peacock feather with her, makes one wonder if she is a human or someone divine, wants to live in a cottage overlooking lush green hills.

"Ironic isn't it that beauty, riches, pride, nothing shall exist in the end because we shall go back to mother nature, Prakriti? I shall be ash, a small heap of ash in the future and my stories, my experiences, the beauty which people love to talk about, nothing will exist. Even when humans leave a piece of land, they think it shall be dead and decayed, but they have forgotten Prakriti's nature. She is nourishing and a healer. She shall be the only one remaining."

Mohiniyattam

Loves to sit by a riverbank, serenity, looks at you as if she knows everything about you even about the words you shall speak next, mysterious vibe, doesn't trust anyone easily, lotuses are her favourite. Who is the girl standing waist deep in the river looking at the moon? Loves to wear alta on her hands and feet, wears anklets, longing side glances, perfectly arched eyebrows, dances in the rain, photographs everything, a natural charmer, goes to museums and coffee. Date ideas? Boat rides for evenings. A very private person, doesn't reveal much about herself, contemplates about Life and the Universe, space geek, stars are her friends.

When I look at you, at your great depths, I marvel at the power you have subdued while flowing through the land of Man. Born from the great peaks of mountain ranges, like a young girl who is pulsating with energy, you flow down your father's abode. Were you aware of your strength then? You cut through rocks, found your way through dense forests, and finally emerged into our land. We took you granted, knowing you shall forever exist for us, that you shall always nurture our bodies, our minds and our souls, until we witnessed your dance of death.

I wondered how Lasya, the feminine style of dance, also known as Goddess Parvati's style of dancing could be destructive? You swirled to great heights. With each turn, your colour darkened, absorbing the green from trees, the white from clouds, yellow from the sun, blue from the dawn and purple from sunsets. In the end your colour changed to brown and grey as you engulfed everything we held dear. You ultimately showed your hidden strength that you possesses in the days of girlhood until you heard us wail and weep. Motherhood came back to you, and with time, you began nursing us once again. The city repaired itself, we began learning about the secrets of life and death on your banks and children played with your gentle waters. And then you longed for love, so you advanced towards the sea, merging with its grand form. Once, I used to see it as a way of losing your entire identity, but now I see it as being one. You nourish man in the city and then with your dear love, the mighty sea, you nourish the life that resides inside water. I would like to be something like that.

"Is that why you spend so much time at the river?"

"Yes."

Sattriya

Plays the flute, the most non violent human, will never get angry, calm voice that might lead you to deep sleep. Nobody has seen her even glare at someone. Gold jewellery, squints at the sun, sings devotional songs for Krishna, cannot eat spicy food, lives in the hills, will definitely win if you race against her in the hills, knows quiet spots to appreciate the valleys. Has a great deal of knowledge about herbal medicines, one touch and you will feel that the pain is gone. Has Diy skin care methods ready, gives the best oil massage, cold hands in winter, looks adorable when covered in a shawl, red cheeks that appear like natural blush, makes the best tea.

"Close your eyes, open your ears and your mind too. You might begin to understand the language of the hills. They will send you messages of rain clouds, soft kisses of wintery breeze, fragrance of spring and gently warmth of the sun. Sometimes, if you look closely enough, you might get to know who you are in this world in front of them."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　 ‧͙⁺ ˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙◌

I DID IT :D

Even though it's based on dance, but everyone isn't into dance, so i did try my best to make it inclusive and ofc i had to write these paragraphs because I felt more creative lol (just to sum up the vibes maybe that's why) It was a bit tricky to make for Sattriya and Manipuri. I looked up some articles and then some Assam and Manipur tourism videos and also some of theri dance videos too for this. Now I mentioned some of rhe traits and stuff based on the dancing history and the repertoire plus also from the place where it belongs too

Tell me your favorite one and which one you relate to the most.

Shoutout to @remen-nyoodless for the hindi lines

Tagging: @yehsahihai @swayamev @sanskari-kanya @navaratna @daddojanam @pulihora @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @aapki-pyaari-sakhi @kuhuchan @arachneofthoughts @vedajananixx @pothosinpots @eugenephosgene @reallythoughtfulwizard @ma-douce-souffrance

[sujantim]

Dark Side of the Moon- Pink Floyd

Who hasn't even heard the name Pink Floyd? Every Gen X to Gen Z knows Pink Floyd. By any chance, if you don't know, which means you haven't listened to any of their songs, and if you dislike them, there is something wrong with you.

Pink Floyd is an English rock band formed in London in 1965. Gaining an early following as one of the first British psychedelic groups, they were distinguished by their extended compositions, sonic experiments, philosophical lyrics, and live shows. They became a leading band in the progressive rock genre, cited by some as the greatest progressive rock band of all time. Pink Floyd was founded in 1965 by Syd Barrett (guitar, lead vocals), Nick Mason (drums), Roger Waters (bass guitar, vocals), and Richard Wright (keyboards, vocals). 

Today, we are discussing them because 50 years ago, they dropped a nuclear bomb on the music industry with the album Dark Side of the Moon on March 1st, 1973.  They launched a composition of sounds of the instrument, an electric guitar solo with different elements which can’t be decoded easily, known as A timeless album, as if recorded just yesterday, impossible for others to find a comparison, too advanced in years for its time, it remains an absolute masterpiece, more than a record, a cult object! New electronic sound effects and recording techniques extended instrumental solos and improvisation.

The album " Dark Side of the Moon" begins with the track Speak to Me, which only lasts for about a minute and doesn't contain any lyrics with a bit of background, producing faint sounds of a heartbeat, quiet conversations, and cash registers slowly. Fade out into another song, Breathe in the Air, begins with the overlay of different instrument tracks. Verse 1: don't be afraid to care; look around and choose your own ground. For long you live and high you fly and smiles you will give and tears you'll cry and all you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be. Remains as my favorite lines,

On the Run is another masterpiece that considers different sounds, including electric sounds, but not the lyrics. Pink Floyd is probably the band that can play with the instruments and elements without having lyrics, and still, the track struck in my head and is still your favorite. It was the first band to invent music and given psychedelic music. Music can be subjective from one to one, but these psychedelic rock bands could be a regular drug to balance someone's study or work-life balance.

The other song from the Album, Time, starts with a tickling sound and tense music. The verse;

“Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine, staying home to watch the rain

And you are young, and life is long, and there is time to kill today

And then one day you find ten years have got behind you

No one told you when to run; you missed the starting gun."

This Could be the best thing someone can tell about the time. I would say this song is their best work,  with perfect lyrics and the composition of the musical elements. This sound could say hundreds of words at the same time. This song remains a reminder of time. The track ends slowly and beautifully, taking us to The Great Gig In The Sky. This track leaves with phenomenal worldless vocals, creating the feeling that this will end even though we are halfway through the album.

The album's second part begins with the Money, which starts with the same kind of sound as Speak with Me, cash counting, and coins. The song goes with a beautiful baseline, and the sound of an electric guitar and saxophone played goes faster and faster with the instrument and sudden slow composition ;

Money

Getaway

You get a good job with more pay, and you're okay

Money

It's a gas

Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash

New car, caviar, four-star, daydream

Think I'll buy myself a football team

The song slowly fades out with a background conversation and begins to fade in with the same background sound with another track. The unique thing about this album is that all the songs are related to each other. Us and Them begin with the pleasant sound with classic jazz sound, organs, pianos, and percussion. The song starts with

Us, and them

And after all, we're only ordinary men.

Me, and you.

God only knows it's noz what we would choose to do.

The song addresses the mindless essence of war and the issue of being chained by consumerism and materialism. The track ends  as we transition into our next, “Any Colour You Like.” It is an electronic-filled song with distorted guitars to compliment the psychedelic feel it produces. With no vocals, it quickly ends, where “Brain Damage” quickly begins. The lyrics were inspired by the mental instability of one of the form band members. Brain Damage and Eclipse are often played as a single track. The song ends with the line.

And everything under the sun is in tune

But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

This track feels as if it were an amalgamation of all the songs previously heard. It contains repeated melodies and vocals as the moon ‘eclipses,’ marking the album’s end with the same faint heartbeat we heard in the first track, “Speak to Me.” 

Overally, Dark Side of the Moon is the greatest album ever. It feels like all the gods came together to to create this masterpiece. It remains timeless, being a fantastic listen every time, and it still feels damn this album existed 50 years ago, and people are still listening; it will continue to distinguish itself in a never-ending cycle like a moon. The Story behind Dark side of the Moon;

[genevievemd]

James Dean Daydream

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Word Count: 1384 Rating: G Category: Fluff, Ethan POV Trope(s): and one of them dabbles in music

Summary: The day Ethan Ramsey realizes he’s in love with a swiftie. 

Warnings: none

A/N: This is really just pointless fluff that I’ve wanted to do this idea for a while lol And I also just love showing these cute little everyday moments between them. Enjoy the fluff, peanuts!  And yes, I did in fact make the cover for this look similar to the 1989 album cover. I am who I am lmao 

November 13, 2020

No matter how many years Ethan Ramsey has spent in medicine, working diligently in one of the country’s most prestigious hospitals, it never ceased to amaze him hw absolutely idiotic the world became on Friday the 13th.  He didn’t even subscribe to the superstition, and yet, without fail, the date would come around and the emergency room descended into madness. 

It was as if anyone with only half a brain cell watched it die and they gave into any and every intrusive thought.

And unfortunately for him, this was the second occurrence this year. Ethan didn’t even think anything could top the chaos of March 13th. The hospital had been running on empty, patients and residents, even doctors, were beginning to transfer to different hospitals. It was pure madness. He had foolishly believed that would be the worst he’d seen or would ever see. 

Until today.

There had been no less than five major traffic accidents, the computer system was down and every staff member was locked out for close to two hours, Leland kept interrupting the diagnostics team whenever they finally had a moment to convene, and to top it all off, Ethan’s favorite resident had the day off. 

Although it was a much needed one and it was at his behest. Genevieve had worked almost 72 hours nonstop with only a few hours of rest here and there. So he’d sent her home that morning, completely forgetting the date. 

She’d texted him sporadically, offering to come back in, but Ethan refused. Gen needed to sleep and they could manage without her. So instead, he told her to utilize the quiet of his apartment and spend the day watching her favorite shows and catching up on sleep. 

He’d almost forgotten the offer, until he arrived home that evening and pushed the button for his floor on the elevator. 

A small part of him now regretted it. He was exhausted and all he wanted was a hot shower, dinner, and crawl into bed. Gen would most likely be her normal energetic self and eager to hear about all the “tea of the day”, as she would say. But, another part of him loved knowing he was coming home to her. 

His bubbly and sweet rookie. The sunshine to his midnight rain. 

A smile spreads across his tired face when he gets to his front door. Whatever song she was playing was loud enough to be heard quite clearly through the door. 

If he had to guess, it was probably Taylor Swift. 

He opens the door slowly, greeted with the sight of Genevieve in his Hopkins sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, hair in a messy ponytail as she dances and sings along to what is absolutely a Taylor Swift song. Using a metal whisk as her makeshift microphone. 

Unwilling to disrupt the show, he gently places his briefcase one the floor and closes the door. Leaning against it with his arms crossed. 

As the song progresses into the second verse, and she twirls back to the stove, he realizes she’s cooking. Ensuring that he came home to a homecooked meal after a long day. That knowledge melts his heart and almost forces him from his spot. But, he also doesn’t want to interrupt and miss the mini concert he’s getting. 

He loves her like this, so free and happy. Enjoying the simple things in life to their fullest extent. 

“He says ‘what you heard is true but I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you and I’ I said ‘I’ve been there too a few times’” She sings the lyric with an excessive amount of dramatics and flare. Jumping right back into what she calls dancing as the chorus begins again. 

At this point in their relationship, and friendship, Ethan is certain he’s heard every song ever made by Gen’s favorite artist. And while it may not be his cup of tea, he’ll never tire of seeing how excited and happy Gen gets when a song comes on. 

Like when she accompanied him to the grocery store earlier that week. A song had come on when they were perusing the vegetables and she squeaked with excitement. Humming along and mouthing the words to him. It was one of the cutest things she’s ever done and a moment he burned into is memory. 

Just like he’s doing with the one happening now. 

Unable to resist any longer, Ethan joins her. Taking her hips in his hands and spinning her around to face him. As predicted, she screams in shock then breaks into a brilliant and beautiful smile. Dropping the whisk and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Hi!” Gen beams, not at all embarrassed to be caught. Reaching to turn the volume of the music down. “Did you just get home?” 

“I did.” He smiles back at her, leaning down to kiss her sweetly. 

“I made dinner, I figured you could use a nice meal after the day you had.” 

“Thank you, that was very sweet of you.” 

“Always, babe.” She kisses him again, a little longer than before but no less sweet. Like she’s pouring her whole heart into the simple gesture. 

After another second, Gen pulls away. Moving back to the stove to turn off the burner. 

Deciding he’s not ready to fully let her go, Ethan follows. Pulling her back to his chest and kissing her cheek. 

“You know, you’re ruining my Spotify every time you use my Alexa.” 

“Ruining it, or adding some flavor to an otherwise boring list of top plays?” Gen laughs, the sound so pretty he can’t help but smile more. 

“I stand by what I said, Rookie.” He lets her go, stepping to the side to take off his coat and tie. Though he keeps his eyes on her, noting how she continues to subtly dance along to the new song coming through the speakers. 

“It’s your fault for picking me to be your girlfriend. You should have known; once a swiftie always a swiftie.” She laughs again, continuing to finish plating their dinner. 

“Swiftie?”

“It’s what you call a Taylor Swift fan.” Gen steps over to him, patting his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you all the lingo. Especially if we plan on staying together forever. You’ll need to know.” 

“Right.” He nods, grabbing their plates and walking over to the dining table. “So the mentor would become the mentee?” 

“Absolutely.” She follows close behind with two glasses and a bottle of wine. “Do you want to shower first?” 

“I thought maybe we’d eat and then you’d join me in the shower.” He smirks at the blush that quickly rises to her cheeks, the way she bites her lip and look away for the briefest of seconds. 

“That actually sounds nice. I missed you today.” 

He takes the glasses and bottle from her hands, putting them down onto the table beside their meal. Taking her back into his arms a second later. 

“I missed you, too, G.” 

Whatever regret and dread he had before was now melted away. Along with almost every ounce of stress that had been heavy on his shoulders before walking in the door. And it was all because of her. 

Her dancing and singing, the happiness of being reunited with her after a long day. 

Ethan had purposely ignored her comment a few minutes prior, about being together for the rest of their lives. Not because he didn’t want that, but because it was still to early to be discussing those things. She still needed to finish her residency and decided on her future in medicine. 

But he hoped that they’d be together through it all, because the love he feels for her – regardless of the fact that they’ve yet to voice it – was unlike anything he’s felt before. It’s healing and fulfilling. Bringing with it the type of happiness that only exists in daydreams and fairytales. 

He didn’t care about their differences, he wanted to embrace them. Learn to love what she loves, like she’s doing with him. 

He wanted a future where he continues to come home to find her singing and dancing with a metal whisk in his kitchen to a Taylor Swift song. Knowing that it would continue to dissolve the stress and pressure of the outside world.

A/N: Little does he know, his future self intentionally added Taylor Swift songs to his Spotify playlist so he could listen to them when he goes back to the amazon lol 

thanks for reading, peanuts. 

[chaosandmarigolds]

Questionsss from the ask list you rebogged <3 answer whatever you wanna no pressure!!

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP.

a trope you’re really into right now?

where do you get your inspiration?

Share a fic you’re especially proud of.

🫡🫡

(Oh no..) “If this was the reality any deity thought befitted him then he supposed he could go against the work of god.”

TEEHEE RAAAAAH- ok ok so I haven’t posted it but I have a fic in the works where (it’s written in English) is Polish and only knows Polish and it’s HEAVILY based off my gfs and I relationship and how it started but language barrier, is that trope? Idk. Grumpy x sunshine is always a favorite.

I don’t know actually. I just yap cause I maladaptive daydream.

…literally all of the Pre-K verse, I get tickled when I realize I created a whole little AU.

🤍🤍

[dustedmagazine]

Ducks Ltd. — Harm’s Way (Carpark)

Ba-da-dum. Ducks Ltd.’s second album kicks off in the kind of staggered power chord that has always conjured angsty bravado, echoing the Who, Guided by Voices, the Bats, and Teenage Fanclub. Like a hundred bands before them, the Toronto duo seeks equilibrium between sting and solace, hook and racket. The giddy melodies of “Hollowed Out” billow from tight, angular brackets of guitar, a rush, an assault and a daydream all at once. It’s Power Pop 101, an amalgam of British Invasion, American 1990s lo-fi and NZ fuzz, but Ducks Ltd. are damned good at it.

This is Tom McGreevey and Evan Lewis’ second full-length as Ducks Ltd. and a big bright brash step up from 2021’s Modern Fiction. Our own Andrew Forell observed that “Although you’ll hear the influences — primarily English and Antipodean — Ducks Ltd. manage to force their own niche in a lineage of Flying Nun, Fortuna Pop!, Postcard, Sarah and Slumberland,” and that still holds. However, Harm’s Way is sharper and more exhilarating than its predecessor; it’s the same aesthetic but more clearly, exuberantly realized.

Ducks Ltd have honed their sound in a relentless round of post-COVID touring. They wrote parts of Harm’s Way while on the road with Archers of Loaf, and perhaps you can hear the up- and downsize of itinerant life in the title track. It crackles with the jangling excitement of playing to live audiences—the best hour of any day for a budding rock band—but also vibrates with a sadder, lonelier vibe. You can hear euphoria in the careening instrumental parts but doubt and listless dissatisfaction in the verse. McGreevey sings the chorus in a glorious swirl of uplift, but the words are about danger, vulnerability and stunted opportunity. The best pop songs have always been happy and sad simultaneously, and this set has that lovely rainy-sunshine ambiguity.

Ducks Ltd. make a music that was once the voice of youth and now primarily appeals to aging record collectors. But even though power pop jangle has become a niche category, there’s no denying its giddy pleasures. If you like tuneful rock with a little bit of nervous edge, here’s a good one.

Jennifer Kelly

[monkee-mobile]

oh damn, im gonna be annoying and answer them all right now because i’m procrastinating important work that will help decide my future. okay, here goes…

1. Daydream Believer.

My mom used to sing it to me when I was a baby (as well as John Lennon’s ‘woman’ and ‘beautiful boy’ and ‘babe’ by Styx), and since my middle name’s Jeanne (newly changed spelling), she’d sing it as ‘cheer up *deadname* Jeanne’, which was sweet until I transed my gender into a million pieces at 13.

2. Damnit… Probably Sweet Young Thing or Magnolia Simms, maybe What Am I Doin Hangin ‘Round, but I’m a very big Look Out (Here comes tomorrow) fan as well, and I cannot just not include Tapioca Tundra, Words, Nine Times Blue and Goin’ down, and fucking clarksville, and listen to the band (33 1/3 version) … oh shit.

3. Favorite is tricky since I have a copy of the first album from the 60s that i’ve had for a long time and i have a soft spot for birds bees and the monkees, so both of those are favorites among my personal collection, but my most listened to album is probably Pisces Aquarius Capricorn and Jones LTD. It’s just fun.

4. I’m gonna throw the first album on this one, i’m sorry my love, i’ve just listened to all of the songs a million times.

5. I don’t know, I think the missing links covers are pretty groovy🌼 I also, again, have a soft spot for birds bees and the monkees because i’ve stared over every inch of that thing a billion times.

6. More of the Monkees with their little JC Penny outfits. Sorry boys, I just think the angle is weird and poor lil Micky had his straight hair.

7. Michael is my favorite. Okay yeah, I think he’s very beautiful and I upset myself daily because i do not look like michael fucking nesmith, but he was always my favorite on the show as a kid. I saw autism in that boy. I tended to grab onto the more thoughtful or intellectual types. I just think he’s very neat. Also, for mike-real, his music is so wonderful. It’s all i ever want like ever, i don’t know why. All of the monkees songs that I got initially impressed by I went through later on and they were all either Mike or neil diamond songs (and neil diamond is another favorite of mine, especially when i was a kid) Please watch the crusin’ video from elephant parts if you’ve never seen it, that damn thing changed my life in seventh grade. I don’t know, as a kid i just think i assumed i’d go through puberty to become Peter Brady and then slowly transition into Michael Nesmith and that’d be my life. He’s just important to me.

8. I can’t not say First National Band, but I’m also a huge fan of Peter Tork’s silly little 1994 album Stranger Things Have Happened. I know the whole thing back to front. My mother crushed me by saying Peter was “an acquired taste” after I made her listen to the entire thing in the car once (strategically singing over Milkshake because I love that goddamn song, but it’s my mother, we don’t need dick chomping right now). She didn’t even appreciate MGB-GT! my little red MG!! my mgbgt, mgb, bgt…

9. Randy Scouse Git, a horny urban jerk.

10. 🎶 Reasoned verse, some prose or rhyme, lose themselves in other times, and waiting hopes cast silent spells that speak in clouded clues. It cannot be a part of me for now it's part of you … sunshine, ragtime, blowing in the breeze, midnight, looks right standing more at ease. Silhouettes and figures stay close to what he had to say, and one more time the faded dream is saddened by the news. It cannot be a part of me for now it's part of you. 🎶 So damn beautiful.

11. Lemme grab it…

been all of my screensavers on everything for way too long (and a version on my ipad where it says ‘weezer’ in the corner)

12. Probably Davy’s Goldilocks “fantasy” song in 33 1/3 where he’s in the little sailor/schoolboy outfit with all the dolls. I took a video of it as well as peter’s I Privy and Naked Persimmon years ago and used to listen to them in the car, but that’s the weirder of those ones, but i’ve always really liked it.

13. I don’t really have a single song but the albums i tend put on before bed are birds bees and the monkees (since i was little little) and Pisces Aquarius Capricorn and Jones LTD.

14. Goin’ down or For Pete’s Sake (cause I used to jump around to it when the credits rolled at the end of an episode. such a stimulating frickin show for a little kid)

15. PAPA GENE’S BLUES (or Crusin’, but that’s a Mike solo thing so it doesn’t count)

16. I’m not your steppin stone because I can do the Micky glitter act he did on the Don Kirshner’s Rock Show with Boyce & Hart in the 70s and get all crazy. Just need myself a Davy to bite on the neck… also, other people know that song, so i wouldn’t feel all crazy and obscure, and it’s fun.

17. Here me out, I love Clarksville, it’s was a favorite of mine for so long, but it just got so popular and overplayed. it’s always considered like the epitome of classic, and I’m over here with Zilch like “but—but—“

18. The Monkees, The Birds, the Bees and the Monkees, Pisces A.C& Jones ltd, a buncha 45s and a LOT of Nez stuff. I also have some Monkees and FNB CDs.

19. Oop—there we are! Okay, I have a greatest hits album, an odd Karaoke monkees thing but it has my favorite monkees photo on the cover so it’s great, like ten mix things recorded for me by my grandpa, and I also have a bunch of FNB albums, but those probably don’t count…

20. Gonna say again the dancing around to Pete’s Sake as a kid after an episode of the show. Usually either Happy Days, I love lucy, lassie, brady bunch, or gilligan’s island would come on after, because we had this classic tv kind of station when we could afford cable, and then i’d just watch it on the box set we bought, but i always liked when it was on the regular tv station.

21. Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)!!!!

22. Words or Goin’ Down. He has an incredible goddamn voice. He worked on it too and it got even better later on! His vocals in the 70s are sexy. A most underrated rock voice.

23. Oh damn… I have to go with What am I doin Hangin round, there’s just a kind of rawness to his vocals that i fucking dig. Magnolia Simms, Sweet Young Thing, kind of girl I could love, tapioca tundra… I also really love Love is Only Sleeping and it having to make an almost Mike-song continuity referencing the girl being “sweet” and “young” because we can’t be starting any rumors now can we? He had such range stylistically.

24. Auntie Grizelda, obviously.

25. Fairy Tale. Can never get over it, not ever.

26. Oh lord, Monkee Chow Mein. I’m not digging the racism loves. Honorable mention goes to the g*yspy episode, but I think that one’s better structured overall than Chow Mein.

27. In the episode with Davy’s uncle when they take over the goddamn airport so Davy can’t leave for England. That’s your first plan boys? Go get your boy back Michael!

28. Every instance of “buddalum” followed by droning “here we comeeee”

29. “Don’t do that!” I’ve been saying it in a deeply texan accent for years. Honorable mention, Mike panicking when people move out of his direct line of sight. You okay babe??

30. See I feel like this doesn’t really count as a “guest appearance” for the time, but Ruth Buzzi in coffin too frequent.

The Monkees Asks

1: First Monkees song you heard?

2: Favourite Monkees song?

3: Favourite Monkees album?

4: Least favourite Monkees album?

5: Favourite Monkees album cover?

6: Least favourite Monkees album cover?

7: Favourite Monkee? Why?

8: Favourite solo work?

9: Favourite song title?

10: Favourite lyrics?

11: Favourite photo of all four Monkees?

12: Guilty pleasure song?

13: Best Monkees song to sleep to?

14: Best Monkees song to dance to?

15: Best Monkees song to sing in the shower?

16: Best Monkees song for karaoke?

17: A Monkees song you think is overrated?

18: Which Monkees albums do you own on vinyl?

19: Which Monkees albums do you own as CDs?

20: A Monkees song that reminds you of a good memory?

21: Favourite song with Davy on lead vocals?

22: Favourite song with Micky on lead vocals?

23: Favourite song with Mike on lead vocals?

24: Favourite song with Peter on lead vocals?

25: Favourite episode of the series?

26: Least favourite episode?

27: Favourite romp?

28: Favourite fourth-wall-breaking moment?

29: Favourite running gag?

30: Favourite guest appearance?

[onsunnyside]

「 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓 」

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 — Do not plagiarize, copy, repost/republish, adapt or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third party sites. My blog is 18+, so minors DNI. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel, etc.). All my works are fiction and may be dark or have triggering content: read all warnings before proceeding.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: All my main characters are of legal age and their descriptions are vague to be inclusive to all! - unless specified.

☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ | @onsunnysidelibrary | 𝐀𝐎𝟑

【 fluff, smut, angst, dark, (c)ompleted, request 】

𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲; one shot ⤜ s, r (c)

✧�� You have your first orgasm at the hands (and mouth) of your two best friends. Based on this ask. [college au, Curtis Everett x virgin!reader x Jake Jensen, innocent!reader, innocence/ruined kink, corruption kink]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐬; collection ⤜ f, s, r

✧࿐ From the ashes of the Golden Age of Porn rises the demand for productions of all kinds—and wickedly stellar and infamously gnarly Love Shack Studios are on the hunt for a new star. [major crossover, pornstar!Curtis Everett x fluffer!reader x pornstar!Ari Levinson]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐞; collection ⤜ f, s (c)

✧࿐ To escape the crowded city of sharp lights, crime, and loud cars, Curtis moved out to the wilderness. He craved the quiet solitude of the forest with nothing but animals and trees to keep him company for miles. He was satisfied until you, a shy yet lively, clumsy hybrid with a nick in your ear, stumbled into his territory. From my sunny bunny party. [hunter!Curtis Everett x bunny hybrid!reader, grumpy x sunshine, size difference, innocent!reader]

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡; series ⤜ f, s

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝?; one shot ⤜ f, s (c)

✧࿐ Curtis has always protected you, and after a horror movie marathon, it’s no surprise you seek comfort in his bed. [Stepbrother!Curtis Everett x innocent!reader. Stepcest, somnophilia, corruption/ruined kink]

𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧'; series ⤜ d, f, s, a

✧࿐ Your whole life has been sugarcoated, a daydream full jelly-filled tarts and your lace-hemmed bedsheets—you’ve spent years squirming under your parents watchful gazes, with their strict warnings the soundtrack to your life. And in hindsight, it was inevitable for your salvation to be the opposite; tattooed, draped in dark denim and leather, riding down the street on a motorcycle and wearing the most sinister smile. [dark A/B/O college AU, dark alpha!fratboy!Curtis Everett x innocent!omega!reader, HC Verse]

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬 & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬/𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[stormblessed95]

Happy Birthday Hobi!

To celebrate, I wanted to make a post highlighting what some of my favorite solo songs of his are! 🥰🥰 In no particular order:

Outro: Ego is one of my favs and it's one of my favorite performances from the ONE too. It's so fun, got an incredible meaning, and is just one of my general favorites too!

1 verse from Jhope back in 2015 is a KILLER song!! I didn't know which one to hyperlink and which one to embed, but I'll just link his live version here since it's only a teaser snippet, but please watch it!! Plus this amazing twitter edit someone did for Hobi day to 1 verse. And the lyric video below:

MAMA from their wings album! This is just a beautiful song and the choir that sings back up in the live version is AMAZING!! This song always makes me a teary eyed too 🥺

Trivia: Just Dance is one of my absolute favorite performances of his too. The song is an absolute bop that you literally have to dance to also. It's so good! This is iconic at this point!

Boy Meets Evil was INSANE and amazing in every freaking way. The beat, his flows, his DANCE, the lyrics. Powerful.

Please, Hopeworld as a mixtape was a MASTERPIECE. All of it is incredible and amazing. Baseline in particular is one of my favorites though! It's INCREDIBLE

Another mixtape favorite is Daydream and Hopeworld. They are so quintessentially Jhope. The way this whole freaking mixtape is the biggest bop while also spitting real shit. I'm OBSESSED. For real

Piece of Peace is another favorite of mine from the mixtape. "Everyone makes mistakes and suffers. Though I don't know them, I know their pain." Literally enough said 😭😭

And finally, Chicken Noodle Soup will complete my top 10. I was impartial to this song at first and now look at it, in my top 10 Hobi solos 😭 the way this is so catchy and has the most incredible backstory of why he did this song.... yeah, I love it more than I should at this point! And the OT7 Performance of it is perfection!

Special shout outs to the others, I love them too!! Hangsang has one of the sickest beats ever. And it's amazing. It features Supreme Boi, but no offense to him or anything, but Jhope eats him up and kills it. The flow switches!!!

Airplane is such a beautiful song. It's incredible, the flow is impeccable, the message is profound, the hope is always present 😭🥺

Blue side, the full version especially, just feels like a hug. From sunshine when you are feeling blue and down. Our Sunshine. Who understands us. 😭 He creates the most pure music at times that also never loses his unique touch. Always giving us such a bright spot of Hope and Love in life.

This one kills me in the best ways. I LOVE this cover and their voices together is insanely appealing and beautiful. Hug Me Cover special shout out by Jhope and V.

And just because I love listening to him sing. His raw vocals are sooooo good. Proposal Cover in 2014 by Jhope on a radio show cut. Just a quick little snippet. I love him!!

Happy Birthday to Our Sunshine. I hope he has a full day of rest and relaxation and the members, his family and friends continue to smother him in love and affection!! 💜💜💜

[louismeanhoe]

dear prudence, see the sunny skies

pairings: louis tomlinson x reader. dad!louis x baby!daughter

warnings: none. teeth-rotting fluff.

a/n: i'm a sucker for dad louis. i keep writing these domestic, soft snippets. daydreaming about being his baby mama

word count: 768

the empty house brings a solitary emotion to the depths of you as you walk the padded floors to the living room. it’s so eerily quiet, outside the wind seems to have been forced into stillness, white snow giving way to the first rays of sunshine that early spring grants.

hot coffee steams on your hands, the white mug that has some quirky friends quote he has given you as a supposedly funny gift. the memory paints a smile across your face, to think of him always lifts your mood. to think of his bright blue eyes, warm smiles, and comforting words does that to one. you wish you could wish him here.

he must be somewhere over the atlantic, charming the girls on the front row of his concert, singing sweet words that make everybody fall in love with him.

you pick up a forgotten guitar, that you had brought from the music room. prudence was sound asleep in her bassinet, a tiny thumb stuck inside those rosy lips she got from her dad. she looked so much like him. the blue eyes, the freckled skin, the thin lips, the upturned, narrow nose. it was like you had nothing to add, except, perhaps, the curls that twisted her fair hair.

after you plucked the first strings to the intro of an old beatles song, she started fussing, not quite crying, but unhappy to be left out. often, when louis was home, he’d play for her while you fed her, humming to whatever tune he decided to play for her. now that he was gone, despite being little, she missed her dada. like you did.

“i know, baby,” you scooped her up into your arms, bouncing a few times before sitting back down on the couch. “dear prudence, won’t you come out to play?”

prudence sighed, little fists on your shoulders, sucking the available skin, though it was out of habit, not hunger. you smiled down at her, rubbing her back.

“dear prudence, greet the brand new day”

you were so engrossed in the little human snuggled on you, that the sound of a parking car got lost on you. even the rattling of keys, and the struggle to fit the correct one into the lock. you were singing in a low, whispery tone, hopeful to lull her back into sleep.

louis stills when he beholds the scene, so domestic. he had missed it all. his baby girl, giggling at him while he cleans her up, and his wife, kissing his lips after a particularly hard day. if he could, all his songs would be about this. the soft moments no one knew about.

his daughter squirmed in her embrace, looking at him. louis smiled, bringing a finger to his lips, but she couldn’t understand what it meant.

“dear prudence, let me see you smile.”

you bring her closer, hopeful that she’d stop trying to escape the snug hug of your arms around her. she doesn’t, so you stand up, still whistling the melody, singing the last verses. that’s when you turn, and that’s when you find your husband, the ever-loving smile on that face, his hair tossed back, a ghosting beard creeping. louis had bags under his arms, he looked skinnier, too. your heart skipped a beat, both from the rushing emotion of seeing him again and the instant worry that flooded.

“hey,” he says, then winks. “you’ve been singing to her without me?”

“she can’t sleep without a song, you know that.”

“she’s so big, i feel like i lost so much already.”

“you’re home now,” louis bends a little to press a kiss to your lips. and on the crown of her blonde head. “plenty of nappies to change.”

“i think i’m sticking to guitar playing, gorgeous,” he laughs, picking prudence up from your arms, her bright blue eyes wide. “did ya’ miss dada, beautiful?”

prudence, the traitor, laughed. she tugged his hair, giving him her best mood. you go back to finally sip your coffee, relishing while he made a funny voice to fill the room with more of that gorgeous sound.

born to be a father, that man. you couldn’t have picked someone better to father your children. from the moment she came out of you, he worshipped her. she’d grow up to be stupidly spoiled, your version of cher from clueless. but it warmed your heart, to watch them.

“you want to go over to our favourite bakery to get breakfast?”

you hummed in response, “perfect, let’s get this daisy ready and leave, ok?”

“that sounds lovely.”

and it really was.

[chickawah23]

Dear Reader thoughts…

Parts of this song just feel like they were written by Karlie…I’m sorry if this is a clown 🤡 take. I am going to jump around in the song a bit. But follow along if you’d like.

My thought that this was Karlie narrating started with this lyric “But darling, darling, please you wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking.” It just feels like she’s making it clear it’s not who you think narrating this song. I also can see it saying even if you think it’s me it’s not really me that is talking online if that makes sense.

When the narrator says “My fourth drink in my hand.” It made me think back to the entire second verse from Question…? Where Taylor sings:

“Half-moon eyes, bad surprise. Did you realize out of time she was on your mind with some dickhead guy that you saw that night. But you were on something. It was one drink after another. Fuckin’ politics and gender roles and you’re not sure and I don’t know.”

The way that one drink after another pings in my head in that second verse of Question…? ties it to the fourth drink in my hand from DR because it feels like the word ‘drink’ means year. Like the fourth year in my hand. Like 4 years of “marriage.” Which reminds me of ivy “My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. Taking mine, but it's been promised to another.”

Then the next line “These desperate prayers of a cursed man. Spilling out to you for free.” Sounds like ivy again specifically “I wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. He's in the room. Your opal eyes are all I wish to see. He wants what's only yours.” The man in this story is the hullabaloo. Being tied to him is a curse. The hiding in plain sight line feels like it’s tied to the second verse of Vigilante Shit as well as the Great War she was the soldier in camouflage who got trapped behind enemy lines.

Then the lyric “if you knew where I was walking. To a house not a home all alone cause nobody’s there.” That line sticks out in my brain because it reminded me of CIWYW “My baby's fit like a daydream. Walkin' with his head down I'm the one he's walking to.”

Then the lyric goes on to say “Where I pace in my pen” Where she describes this house that is not a home as a “pen” she paces in like an animal in a pen waiting for her chance to be set free.

Like if we compare this to the opening line of the song “Dear reader, if it feels like a trap. You're already in one.” This whole song feels like a warning to learn from the narrator’s mistakes.

And then she says “and my friends found friends who care. No one sees when you lose when you're playing solitaire.” Idk why but this line just feels so layered. It just feels like the narrator is self-isolating intentionally so that she is the only one who gets damaged. Like taking the brunt of the loss by fading into the background.

Maybe I tie all this to Karlie because that line reminded me of this picture Karlie posted to her IG stories on 10/6/21 with her and her friends having a game night idk:

Plus this line “Dear reader, when you aim at the devil. Make sure you don't miss.” It just feels like there was some failed efforts to get out but they backfired. Like if we compare this to the pen discussion before. It just feels like a failed escape attempt that just made things worse.

Also the “never take advice from someone whose falling apart” refrain feels tied to the

Then the outro lyric repeating “you should find another guiding light but I shine so bright” seems like it’s her saying I’m not pure sunshine because I can’t be while I’m still in this pen. It just feels defeated.

The “mom” that is heard in the background 4x throughout the song. Just seems like Karlie.

Conclusion

Idk something about Dear Reader just feels like Karlie…but Idk this is all just a clown 🤡 analysis/theory thing.

I will probably do a more general parallel post at some point for this song.

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

fine line - a close reading

gonna cry bc i’m at the end, gonna cry bc it’s fine line.

(x x x)

want to give the same disclaimer as with lights up: this song is so layered, so multi-faceted, that i could never hope to give an exhaustive analysis. due to its vagueness and openness for interpretation, i assume that everyone, just like me, has their own ideas about it and has attached importance to it in ways that no one else’s words can or should alter. this song means the world to me for reasons that aren’t necessarily in this post, and that’s how it is with art that touches us deeply. i’ve tried my best to pull it apart, lay it bare, spread it open, if you will, so it’s almost as free as it can be for you all to form your own opinion on it. in the synthesis i will make my own conclusions, but feel free to ignore that if yours are totally different. i’m just one set of brain and heart taking in fine line and projecting whatever i think is right onto it. alright, let’s go

fine line, track 12

sung in falsetto

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

Put a price on emotion

pouring emotions into the art you create: how much is genuine / how much do you show - line between being authentic to your audience and giving away too much, wanting to keep things to yourself and not feeling truthful with what you’ve written

exploits of the industry: lay your soul bare - or the exact opposite, some pretend emotion - to score that hit

I'm looking for something to buy

cynical. emotions aren’t genuine, right? where can i go buy some?

～ lights up themes. fake life, industry, being a sell-out

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

“you” = career, music, Harry Styles™. devoted to the craft, to the job, all the ups and downs of it, despite the hardships it brings 

“man” is deliberate: can be seen as an offhand interjection, like “man, that’s rough”, but nothing is casually placed in this song. “man” is: The Man, the heads in the industry, the people pulling the strings. The man in Harry, the man he’s been in the media all these years, the part he’s played/had to play, the man that’s in him

⟶ “hate you”: hate for industry shit, self-hate created by having to play pretend (～ only angel analysis, the persona of the Bukowski womaniser)

“sometimes” - it’s not fucked up all the time

“you” could also be a lover, but the sudden “hate” there then would be for that person, which is absent in any other song about them, doesn’t make any sense

I don't want to fight you

And I don't want to sleep in the dirt

like there’s a choice to me made, but he doesn’t want to make it: either I fight this “you” or I sleep in the dirt

“you” as the industry: if he doesn’t fight them, he might end up being a beggar, lose all his self-worth bc he gave in to everything they asked/told him to do

“you” as himself: fight your instincts, part of who you are/the persona. if he doesn’t fight to figure himself out, though, he fears he’ll also lose

“sleep in the dirt” as a sense of rejection, as well

We'll get the drinks in

So I'll get to thinking of her

drinks to cope - falling, only angel, from the dining table - or to be braver and confront emotions better - tbsl

who is “we”? who is “her”?

narrative of “you” as “lover” further disproven: if “I” and the lover get together over drinks and “I” starts thinking of “her”?

⟷ “her” could be the lover, but then who is “you”? the industry? some other person, besides that lover, harry is devoted to? multiple lovers, all of a sudden? no.

⟶ “I” and “you” are all harry, that get to thinking of “her” because she is in daydreams with him. the narrative that harry is fighting a part of him, the persona he has (had) to play bc of industry limits, makes most sense. that persona is within him now, and part of his work, but all of him, “we”, is begging to come into the light - of which she is a huge part

We'll be a fine line

balancing act. let everything coexist but pay attention that those lines don’t get crossed the wrong way. what we are, what i am, is a fine line between what makes us go under and what lets us thrive

we will be: determination to fulfil this prophecy, statement of fact “we always will be”

“we’ll be a fine line”: other way of interpreting it is that on both sides of that line is what entails “we”, all that is harry. what merges on that fine line is where it’s just right, when harry is fully himself in every way

“fine line” can also be an echo of criticism, bigotry, in the style of: it’s a fine line between being simply flamboyant and queer, between dressing like that and people thinking you’re a transvestite or summat (cause we wouldn’t want that, now, would we) - “we’ll be a fine line” could be owning all of it. putting himself in the middle of all those messy lines, as someone queer without a category

Test of my patience

patience with himself - kindness to self - took a long time to figure shit out and it was a challenge

waiting for change: industry and its allowances/openness

There's things that we'll never know

my favorite line

“we” = harry / harry and company / us in general, all of us listening 

～ tpwk “i don’t need all the answers”: deep sense of acceptance

peace to be found in accepting this!!

You sunshine, you temptress

“sunshine” - as in all the love songs (blue skies, sunflowers, summer days…): lover - possible that there are multiple “you”s in this song?

sunshine could ofc also be directed at the temptress, still

female “temptress” - “i’ll get to thinking of her” - she - it’s tempting for harry to think of her all the time, to lose himself in the “her” in him

other interpretation for “temptress”: woman he knows with negative influence in his life - resemblance to woman “you flower, you feast”, so echo of Bukowski ～ only angel, kiwi (my sunshine, my love, who is involved with this temptress…)

My hand’s at risk, I fold

⟷ tpwk “dropping into the deep end”

not showing his cards just yet / forfeits

anxious to show all of him, to take the chance, with all the risks and consequences involved

Crisp trepidation

I’ll try to shake this soon

nervousness, anxiety - about (not) taking (enough) chances, (not) laying himself bare (release of the album that reveals much more than before)

“crisp” fresh, this feeling is unfamiliar - change is coming “soon”

sense of agency: I can get rid of this feeling by my own volition and make these changes - hesitant, insecure: “try”

wants to be braver. he’s not going back, but still needs to calmly coax himself further and further into the light, out into the open (“we’ll be alright”)

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

(can anyone else hear “spread thin” like a whisper under “spreading”? or am i imagining things.)

“you” is back - the only way of knowing “you” is to spread them open - the physical

to spread someone open - very literal, don’t need to paint the picture, or to lay bare, to lay it all out 

⟶ “you” as himself - the only way of knowing who i am is by doing this: writing this album, performing these songs, letting others listen in and form their own interpretations, let this world grow where i’m laid bare and OPEN and exist as this person who has issues, who is angry, who doesn’t know who he is a lot of the time, but is still so happy to be here - let it spread and let it all circle back to me so i can grow deeper into myself

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

“we” = h & self, h & lover, h & fans

collectiveness from tpwk

(notes on a piano sounding like drops, like he’s emerged from the water and dripping dry)

SYNTHESIS

Everything about this song is plural. Personal pronouns are all over the place. I, you, her, we. The sound is incredibly layered, with Harry’s own voice echoing through its verses like he’s singing to himself in an empty cave. Meanings can be attached to every word like it’s a wax tablet used too many times. What Harry has said in interviews for once holds pretty true to the actual meaning, in my opinion. 

“It felt like it described to me the process of making it and how the album felt in terms of the different kinds of songs on it.” (Capital FM)

This can mean a lot of things, and I think it means all of the things, of course. It means Fine Line is a summary of all of his emotions he visited on the album, of the things he’s laid bare. And it means that the actual process was also described, as one that can be frustrating and challenging, with added industry shit. 

Harry has expressed straightforward gratefulness to his label for "leaving (him) alone” while making the album and that speaks volumes. This time, he had the chance to make his art without the constant interference of a label, which meant he could weave in criticism as well. “Put a price on emotion” is first and foremost a critique on the industry. It’s the first line of the song, setting the tone for the interpretation of this song is about the risks I took while making this album. It involves criticism on an industry that creates such an atmosphere that only a certain type of music and artist breaks through or can be successful, that limits people in their personal expression. Convinces them that it’s better that way. That it’s better to hide who they love because the general public won’t accept them. That it’s better to create a song about a fake emotion than be honest. Harry loves writing songs and being on stage, but it’s taken a while for him to be fully comfortable there as a solo artist and bloom into the person that could make Fine Line. He loves his career, but it’s also limited his freedom in ways beyond our comprehension, and it’s exploited him to the point where he didn’t know who he was, in ways that have clearly taken a toll on his mental wellbeing. To a point where he finishes this album reassuring himself, most of all, that everything will be alright.

That process of making Fine Line obviously includes Harry confronting emotions he hadn’t before. He has stated that he experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows while making it. There are things he hates, he was fighting but doesn’t want to (anymore), uncertainties he was trying to figure out but had to accept he couldn’t, risks he still doesn’t know he can take without shaking. At the centre of it all is this sense of “knowing you.” The different personal pronouns in the song paint a fractured picture, which is ultimately deliberate. That the “you” Harry is devoted to and can hate sometimes doesn’t line up with “her,” that the end focus does seem to be this “you” that is mentioned in the same breath as “man” and “temptress,” forming the “we” together with “I”. 

After having songs like Lights Up, She, Falling and even TPWK, one of the central themes on the album has undoubtedly been self-discovery, in all its pain and glory. There are no female pronouns on the album besides, obviously, in She, and then here, in Fine Line. She is about a man living with a woman “just in his head”, who “sleeps in his bed while he plays pretend.” It is very clearly a trans narrative, the story of someone struggling to put into words what they’re experiencing in terms of gender. To a point that they fantasise about running away. Fine Line brings the ideas of knowing what it all means, which Lights Up kicks off (“do you know who you are?”), Falling deepens (“what am I now?”) and Treat People With Kindness turns on its head (“I don’t need all the answers”), together. Harry is still doubtful, and the questions asked earlier in the album haven’t disappeared, but he has accepted that “some things we’ll never know.” His aim, however, is still “knowing you.” 

To have Fine Line, as the summary of these emotions of self-growth and self-discovery, echo that one female pronoun, speaks volumes. It is a direct reference to She, to that story about gender. “Her” in this song refers to “she (who) lives in daydreams with (him).” The one who still only fully comes out when they’ve had a drink. The one he’s still working to include in who he is, as he tries to figure out who he is, all of it. The song where he sings in falsetto, just like on Fine Line. Of which he sang the first verse an octave lower live at the forum, switching between those voices, those perspectives. That’s also why “you” in this song is also Harry to me. We get this fractured sense of self, this “I” and “you” conversing over a drink, this “you” Harry is devoted to and wants to figure out. “You” and “I” form “we” and all of them are Harry. The lines are blurry on purpose, there is no way to figure out where “you” ends and “I” begins. 

“You sunshine, you temptress” is the most enigmatic line in that respect, and to me blurs those lines even more between the pronouns. “You” is suddenly also identified by a female noun. And no this isn’t about some kind of love triangle. “Sunshine” aligns with all the odes to his lover in the rest of the album. So what does that mean? That there are multiple “you”s in this song, meaning that Harry is addressing both his lover and a temptress? So “her” he’ll get to thinking of, the only other female pronoun used in the song, is identified as a temptress, but tempting to do what? To take risks? And no I won’t forget the “man, I can hate you sometimes,” where "man” is not a casual interjection but an identifier of “you.” 

Or is it an echo of “the light” from Golden’s “bring me back to the light” and Light’s Up’s “step into the light”? So that the “sunshine” symbolises being in the clear, being out of the darkness running through his heart, the darkness caused by not knowing who you are. “You sunshine,” you beacon of light. “You temptress,” risk-taker and source of anxiety. You, one I need to spread open to figure out, to know about, source of happiness and despair, one I’m devoted to but also hate. You, man, you, temptress. You there, in the mirror looking back at me. 

All of you, and myself included, we’ll be a fine line. And we’ll be alright.

This song is about all of that. The self in art, the self on its own, the other, the journey, the chances, the fears, the passion. Hope. Reassurance. Confidence. And, most importantly, that everything will be alright in the end.

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