#the colors remind me of melodrama by lorde

[namjoohyuk]

i should get on that side of reddit i love messy celeb tea. also the way that taylor used olivia and conan ( two newer musicians of color who are obvi big fans of hers ) to promote the hell out of her rereleased albums like on tiktok and insta and stuff but she's NEVER promo-ed their new stuff? i mean liv hasnt released new music yet but conan has a whole album out and she said nothing? and liv's released some like docs and things and yet taylor is quiet. then she has the nerve to make a song about how she "used" to be scared of newbies in the industry coming to replace her but she's not anymore or something like that? basically trying to make it seem like she's nicer to the newbies than older acts were to her when she joined the scene BUT THAT ISNT EVEN REMOTELY TRUE! SHE JUST USES THE PEOPLE SHE SEE'S ARE POPULAR AND MIGHT COME FOR HER GIG!!!! like she'll attach herself super early on in their career to play the "welcoming mentor" role and get all her fans being like "look how sweet taylor is!!! look at her adopting on the new kids!!!" while also simultaneously exposing herself to their fans and getting her name in articles by being nice to whoever is currently popping so buzzfeed writes like a "oh my god look what taylor did for so and so!" article. but then after all that ????? crickets! she just lives them in the dust. it reminds me of when lorde came on to the scene and like taylor was up lorde's ass. also it's so funny to me how taylor swift used to work with multiple producers and like had maybe only 2-3 songs produced by jack antonoff but then lorde had jack produce almost the entire melodrama album and it was a HUGE success like critically and fan wise then all of a sudden taylor has jack producing a majority of her next albums. LIKE SHE BASICALLY STOLE HIM FROM LORDE ITS INSANE!!! and no one has called her out for it which is even funnier to me.

ok the lorde stuff, thank you for brushing my memory bc i COMPLETELY forgot she took jack antonoff from lorde (sidenote: i hate jack i think he has caused a lot of damage to both artists' music)

everything you said was what the people on that deuxmoi reddit echoed so you're def on to something. yes!!! you need to go in r/deuxmoi. I find all my celeb tea from there, and people aren't like crazy like lipstick alley or celebsnark.

idrc about conan, i heard he's a massive asshole but i do care about olivia. although i can't say i'm a fan, i do think she's on her way to become the next big thing. also i wanna add that i think that taylor is scared of the musicians that have the potential to take over her and not the ones who do not and/or are seen negatively by people, and that's why she's still close to camila and halsey.

someone had mentioned that she likes to be pampered, like she likes when the younger musicians praise her constantly. but i don't think that's true. it's more a competitive marketing thing which is very on brand for miss capitalism.

[folkloreguk]

Still The Louvre (m)

A/N: Someone requested this and I hope you like it! This happens when you have Lorde’s Melodrama on repeat whilst writing…thanks for inspiring me queen (although I’m not sure why breakup songs made me write this lol) Also Merry early Christmas to those who celebrate!! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fluff, smut, car sex, childhood friends to lovers, a tiny bit of angst but only for 0.5 minutes maybe, I hope this heals someone who’s given up on finding love, you all deserve someone who sees the best in you!!!

words: ~ 3.9 k

.

“We’re just friends. Guys and girls can be friends! We’ve always been best friends, ever since we were seven. Nothing more.” That’s what you used to say. Now look who was the clown in those conversations all along. You guessed correctly - it was you. Because on your sixteenth birthday, he showed up in his black tee and baseball jacket, with your favorite candy and a heart-shaped necklace. Little did he know, if you could, you would have carved his initials into it, right there and then. Because it was that day, you understood one thing. You were head over heels in love with your best friend.

You would have been the perfect high school sweethearts – had it not been for the three different girls he had dated instead of you. He always had all their hearts, the only thing he needed to do was pick. And who could blame the other girls? He was all you could ever ask for, so there was no point in being bitter about their adoration for him.

Multiple times, you had tried to convince yourself you were over him. Like when you went out with one of the popular guys, only to realize three dates in that he was the possibly most boring person you had ever encountered. Or like that one time you agreed to go to prom with the class clown. He almost made you spit out your drink of laughter all night long, but when he tried to stick his tongue down your throat at the end of it all, you changed your mind. Your most successful boyfriend stayed for a full six months, before leaving you. He had been jealous of your relationship with your best friend. And you couldn’t even resent it. Your then-boyfriend had been in second place all along, and you should have never even dated him.

Long story short, whenever you looked at boys, you compared them to your best friend. And your best friend was an invincible competitor. It was safe to say, your teenage years weren’t what the films made them out to be. Except if there was a movie about a girl who cried so much about her best friend who she loved, she almost thought there was something seriously wrong with her. Some days the pain was so heavy, you’d get mad at him for no reason. Then you’d have to tell him lies that wouldn’t worry him and move on. Who could you tell? Your best friend was the one supposed to help you through boy trouble, wasn’t he? Yeah, that wasn’t going to work for you.

But that was the past. Lately, life was better. You couldn’t pinpoint when you first noticed the way he looked at you. Was it when he told you he felt like no boy in the world would be good enough for you, so maybe he should date you instead? It sounded like a joke, but his eyes said differently. Or was it when he asked you to sleep in his bed instead on his spare mattress at one of your sleepovers you’d had since you were eleven? He held you without words being shared, and neither of you addressed it in the morning. Maybe you both knew what it meant, either way. The mere thought of him liking you back was almost unbelievable for you. But after last night, you had no doubt. You had been in the elevator in the cinema with him. It was only ten seconds, and before you could have kissed his face that was inches from yours, the doors had opened. But he had chuckled and grinned at you for thrice the time afterwards. As if you had a new inside joke now.

It seemed you both knew what you wanted. But were you willing to take your friendship to that level?

Today, you were sure you were willing. Your heart almost ached in desire for him when you saw him standing with your shared friends. There, on the beach in the dark of night, with a bonfire drawing the warmest orange glow on his skin, you thought he had never looked more handsome. It was a small get-together between old school friends you both hadn’t seen in a while. And you should have been all over them, asking them about their lives and how they’ve been. Instead you only had eyes for the person you saw every day of your life. You swore you’d never get enough of his sweet smile and eyes so trustworthy you wanted to put all your deepest secrets right into his hands. His chest was heaving from laughter as he pat his friend’s shoulder in agreement. Oh, how dearly you wanted that hand to slip into your very own.

It was a warm night, you had been eating marshmallows, sharing genuine laughter and looking up at the stars and the full moon. Only one thing could have made your experience better, or one person, rather. You silently cursed yourself, because the night was coming to an end – some people had already left – and you still hadn’t made your move on him like you had planned it. But then your song played from the speaker. The very song you two always played in your car whenever you drove somewhere together. Every small beat reminded you of him and the lyrics were carved into your heart, it seemed.

When he noticed, his eyes shot up and met yours. They crinkled up into a smile that you returned. Finally, he made his way over to you and automatically your arms opened for him. Like coming home, he melted into your figure, arms mellow around your body. Quietly, he sang along into your ear, like every little word was meant just for you. You only pulled away slightly, so you could look at each other’s faces. You could’ve cried, realizing the time you had waited for him had been worth it after all. He was giving you a look you had thought would be forever reserved for other girls – but never for you. The starry sky above you wouldn’t stand a chance compared to his dreamy eyes and the fresh ocean air could easily be forgotten, if it meant to be in his arms and breathe in his familiar scent. If you leaned forward only a little, you could kiss him.

“Guys, we’re headed off,” a voice interrupted you.

“We should get going too, don’t you think?” he said. Almost mechanically, you nodded. You reminded yourself that you would still be in the car with him for twenty minutes until you’d arrive at home. And he’d stay at your place. You had him all night long. As you walked to your car, his hand brushed against yours softly, and you weren’t sure if it was just an accident, at first. But he was smiling as if he knew everything when you looked over at him and there you had your answer. The moment he had sat down in the passenger seat of your car, he was digging around for a CD to play. He settled for a playlist he had made for you in spring.

There was so much to be said and simultaneously silence had never felt more comfortable while you drove. You were going south along the high cliffs to your right. It was truly the most beautiful part of your hometown.

“I hate driving here,” you said.

“You don’t like driving along the cliffs? Too dangerous?” he asked.

“No. It’s too beautiful here to just look straight ahead at the road,” you said. He chuckled.

“We can stop at the tourist spot if you want to look at the sea,” he suggested. You smiled because he knew you so well. The ‘tourist spot’ really was a small parking spot right by the road, with space for about ten cars. You could already see it ahead of you. On sunny days lots of people driving down the coast liked to stop there for a rest and to take photos. Now, it was completely empty, of course. You parked at the spot closest to the cliff, so you could look down at the sea without having to get out of your car.

The slow playlist he had made for you was still playing when you switched off the engine. You knew right then and there, no matter where the night went, you’d remember this moment forever. The glow of the full moon was sparkling on the wild billows beneath you. Your eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment, as if you could have seen the closest island if only you paid enough attention. But it was only a wild vastness seemingly without end. Momentarily, you thought you spotted something in the water. Whales? But when you looked closer, there was nothing but the white and dark blue colors of the tempestuous waves.

“It’s gorgeous,” you spoke into the silence, your chin resting on your forearms on the steering wheel. You waited for his response. When it didn’t come, you turned to look his way. He was already looking at you. If cupid was real, he had just fired another arrow at your heart. Never could you have guessed how your best friend’s foolish grin could have made your heart skip a beat like this. Without another thought entering your head, you bent over to him. He knew what it meant when you mirrored his smile.

And then, you closed your eyes. You could admit it now - every time you had blown out your birthday candles, this was all you had ever wished for. His lips fit so perfectly onto yours. After the amount of times you had imagined it, really kissing him still was so much better than it had ever felt in your wildest dreams. His hands tangled in your hair and you almost couldn’t breathe. But then again, you didn’t need to. Right then, you didn’t need anything but him. For the first time, you touched the back of his neck in the way you had always wanted to – to pull his mouth closer to yours.

When you pulled away, everything in you screamed ‘Do it again! Now!’. It was as if your mind was worried that he would slip right through your fingertips if you didn’t hold him close to you for the rest of your life. Too many times you had thought that maybe you could have him, only to be let down because your hopes were too high.

“When did you first want to do this?” you asked, because you needed to know.

“About four months ago, probably. What about you?” he said. His hand was still on yours, as if to say “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere”.

“Ever since I was sixteen,” you said. You could have lied, but what was the use? You loved him too much to ever deceive him. His eyes widened. His hurt was yours, and so you understood the way your words must had pierced through his heart. Now he knew. You could practically read it in his eyes, how he realized the pain, the jealousy and disappointment he had caused, for years, without ever intending to do so. And although you should have wanted him to understand your hurt, the guilt and pain in his look was unbearable.

“It’s not your fau-“ you started.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” he interrupted you. “I’m so sorry – god I’m such an ignorant asshole.”

“No!” you said, taking his hand in both of yours. “You are my best friend, and you have caused me endless hours of happiness. I would have taken any sadness if it meant I could be your best friend forever.”

His eyes were watering and your heart felt like someone had gripped and twisted it in their bare hands.

“I was dating people and you had to sit and watch,” he said in disbelief.

“It meant to see you happy,” you said. “Hating you or those girls wouldn’t have changed your feelings for me. Because we don’t choose what we feel and for whom we feel things.”

“I love you,” he let out. “I’m so in love with you and I’ll make it up to you for the rest of my life, I swear.”

His words hit you like a torrent and you didn’t even care about the years of hurt anymore.

“There’s nothing you need to make up to me. I just need you to be here with me. Let me love you the way I’ve secretly loved you all this time,” you said. You touched foreheads until your breaths mixed.

“I’m yours – all yours,” he said. “I’m sorry. It took so long for me to realize and you were here all along, waiting for me. I never wanted to hurt you. How can I apologize properly?”

“Just kiss me again, please,” you said, almost begged. “Kiss me and it’ll all go away.”

And so he did. You had never known how much emotion could be in a kiss. But then again, you had never felt this strongly for anyone else but him. You deepened the kiss, bending almost all the way over to his side of the car. His hands were touching your cheeks so gently, but they were coaxing you closer and closer. When his tongue stroked over your bottom lip, you sighed against his mouth.

“I want you,” you admitted. You thought about driving home, but you needed to be honest to yourself. Driving in this state of mind was probably not safe.

“Backseat?” he asked, lips barely leaving yours alone. Hastily, you nodded. He climbed back there first, then you followed. It was only ten seconds that you couldn’t hold him for, but you yearned for him more than ever when you finally sat down in his lap, facing him. Without hesitation, your hungry mouths attacked each other again. You swore, you could have sat there all night long, kissing and touching him, if there hadn’t been something you wanted even more.

Swiftly, you slid his shirt over his head. Of course, you had seen him shirtless before, but never like this. Never with his chest practically heaving against yours, never with your hands being able, being allowed to touch him. Your fingertips were shaky against his smooth skin and you must had looked at him as if he was carved directly from marble. So he put his fingers under your chin and you looked into his eyes. If his body was marble, his eyes were diamonds. Ever so gently, he kissed you again. For a while you sipped on each other’s lips, only pulling away for a moment so you could remove your own shirt. You had opted to not wear a bra that day, out of comfort but also laziness. All along you used to think that saying someone’s eyes darkened in lust was an exaggeration, but when you looked into his, you understood. It was true. The way he eyed you was beyond all your most daring dreams you had ever dreamt about him.

Your lips meddled messily as his hands ran down your body starting from your neck, to your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples. He was careful not to tickle you, knowing from hundreds of childhood play fights where your weak spots were. Your back arched against his chest, wanting more than his careful touches. On impulse, your hips ground against his crotch. As if on cue, you both let out strained noises. By now, your breaths were heavy when you pulled away shortly. Dreamy eyed, he touched the pendant of the necklace between your collar bones.  

“I gave you that…,” he started.

“For my sixteenth birthday,” you finished his sentence. You caught a flash of regret in his gaze, but you weren’t going to let him feel that way. Not now. Like you had wanted to so many times, you bent to his neck and began peppering kisses on his skin.

“Can I give you a hickey?” you whispered, almost afraid you were still in a dream.

“Just one?” he asked, and even without looking at him you could hear the grin in his voice. After sharing him with so many girls for so long, it almost felt selfish. But you reminded yourself that he wanted you now, after all. He groaned when your teeth grazed his skin and you sucked purple marks onto his neck and shoulder. His restless hands touched all over your boobs and hips, down to your ass where they slid into the back pockets of your pants for a moment. Again, you pressed your crotch against his hips, yearning for any kind of friction. At the same time, your hand wandered along his chest to the hem of his pants. Without looking, you opened his belt and the zipper of his bottoms.

He hissed when you grabbed his clothed dick through his underwear and his fingers dug into your sides. A few times you pumped his already hard shaft through the material. Then he moaned your name and you had never heard anything more perfect. The mere sound of his breathy, husky voice turned you on so much more than you had ever imagined.

“Fuck me, please,” you spoke, kissing him deeply. He hummed a needy yes against your lips and nodded. You climbed off him so you could lie down on the seats. He wriggled out of his pants and then helped you out of your own. When he lay down between your thighs and you felt his weight on top of you, it seemed like he had always belonged right there. It had been a hauntingly long journey, but now that you knew the end of it, you accepted all the sleepless nights you had experienced.

“Hold on,” you said, finding your bag on the floor to reach for the condom inside. He hummed a thank you as he ripped the pack and rolled the rubber over his stiff member. His fingertips teased the inside of your thighs, while he pressed open mouthed kisses onto your neck. A drawn out moan of agreement left your lips and momentarily, your eyes shut in the bliss of anticipation.

“You look so beautiful in the moonlight,” he said. His fingers run through your folds, collecting the wetness. You couldn’t help but whimper at the contact, and maybe also slightly because his words made your heart swell in the most marvelous way possible. Through flattering eyelids, you watched his stupidly handsome features as he curled his fingertips against your clit. All of you wanted more, but you only managed to moan his name in pleasure.

“You ready?” he asked, and you weren’t sure if you brain had even processed the amount of rapture he was causing you – but of course you were. You had been for years.

“Yes,” you said. Just for a moment, he run the tip of his cock through your wet folds. When he finally entered you, you realized you had been holding your breath – now it came out in a relieved sigh. He groaned at the mere sensation of filling you up, and when you opened your eyes to look at him it almost made you dizzy in admiration. Gradually, he thrusted into you, hips fitting against yours like two puzzle pieces finally united.

As he picked up the pace, you moaned in surprise but more in agreement. You felt his hand on yours and linked your fingers. Other men had made you feel good before – but only now you realized how true those statements from women were, when they said that nothing was like sleeping with the one you were in love with. The mixture of pleasure and the way you mooned over his whole being was a lot to take in. But it would never be too much. He was perfect for you. When you threw your head back you spotted the full moon and the brightest stars in the sky, trying to outshine each other.

He hit a spot inside of you that made you arch your back off the seats. Tightly, you shut your eyes and squeezed his hand.

“Oh my- You feel so good,” you moaned. When you felt the tip of his nose brush against yours, you opened your eyes. They met his galaxy eyes, and his mouth was parted slightly. You could barely breathe at the way he looked at you. When would anyone else ever see you in this way? It didn’t matter, you only wanted him either way.

He reached for the back of your thigh, lifting your leg slightly. The different angle felt even better, making you whimper and grab the hair at the nape of his neck, desperate for somewhere to hold on to. He groaned when you pulled his hair a little, and you smirked. You could barely wait to find out all the other things he liked and wanted to do to you in the future. But for now, you weren’t in a rush. It had been a long time since you had felt so at peace and full of happiness. Time was nonexistent right then. All you knew were his soft lips on your jaw and the way his perfect cock was making you see a blur of stars in front of your eyelids.

“I’m gonna- come,” you whimpered.

“Hmm…me too,” he groaned. “Let go for me, baby.”

His hand came in contact with your clit, feverishly rubbing the sensitive nub. The nickname he had called you would have made your cheeks heat up, had they not already been that way from the intensity of your emotions. Your stomach tightened and you only wanted to pull him closer to you.

He reached his high shortly before you did. A few curses fell off his lips as you felt him twitch inside of you, hips moving in sharp thrusts. Even if you had wanted to look at him, it was impossible for you to keep your eyes open, as his fingers still worked their magic on you. His last thrusts were hard and short, but they sent you over the edge too. Just as he pulled out, you met your climax. It was like falling but knowing there was a pair of gentle arms right there to catch you, so you didn’t have to be scared. You moaned his name, and this time he was actually here to hear it. Your chest pressed against his, foreheads touching, your legs tightened around his waist from sensitivity. After slowing down, he removed his fingers from your center completely.

Together, you lay in silence trying to catch your breaths and clear your heads. You scooted over a little, so he could balance his body on his side next to you. Light as a feather, his fingers brushed over your lips, before he bent down and kissed you again. This time it was a long kiss, with less need but even more passion. For what felt like the hundredth time, you questioned reality. Almost as if to check if it really was him, you stroked over his cheek and gazed up at him. But he was right there. Your best friend. Now more than your best friend. Through the opened crack of the car window you made out the crashing waves that caressed the cliffs underneath you two. Mingled with your song playing from the car’s speakers, the mysterious noise seemed to pick you up and tell you “Look at what you’ve been through, only one last time, then put it behind you. You’re where you’re supposed to be, now.”

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

love

Written for Day 7 of @aangweek! Read here on AO3.

~*~

7. love - don’t got nowhere to go / so we’ll go with the flow / yeah, we’re living the life / sippin’ on sunshine

“I can help clean,” Aang offered as Iroh began clearing their group’s cups and plates from the circular wooden table.

Iroh chuckled, shaking his head. “There’s no need -”

“I insist,” Aang interrupted, standing and collecting his own dishes. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for closing the shop early so we could be together without politicians and paparazzi peering over our shoulders.”

“There’s no use arguing with him,” Toph commented before Iroh could protest further. “Once Twinkle Toes decides to help someone, nothing will change his mind. Accept your fate, Iroh.”

Katara laughed along with the rest of their friends, and Aang gave them a guilty grin.

“Hey, I learned from my wife-to-be,” he teased, pressing a kiss to Katara’s forehead. “Never turn my back on people who need me!”

Katara rolled her eyes at his comment, but she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Aang and Iroh gathered the last of the group’s dishes before disappearing into the kitchen.

Zuko hummed in contentment, draping an arm around Mai’s shoulders. “I wish we could meet up like this more often. Be together without all the chaos.”

Today had involved an annual meeting of important representatives from all four nations, this year hosted by the Earth King. In other words, Katara knew, it was a very rare opportunity for their friend group to reunite in full. Only after the day’s politics had ended, of course.

Sokka snorted. “I agree, but you’ve gotta admit it’s pretty much impossible for this to be a regular event.”

“Ember Island is always open for an impromptu vacation,” Mai reminded them, earning more laughter from the group.

“I might take you up on that soon,” Suki mused, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and shaking her head. “A vacation is sounding more and more attractive with every second.”

Katara allowed herself a breathy sigh. “Spirits, if I could get Aang to take a vacation…” She snorted. “That would be the day.” Her fiancé was notoriously stubborn about working until he dropped. In fact, there was only one other person whose work ethic could compare.

Mai chuckled. “Zuko is exactly the same. Always working himself into the ground.”

Ah, yes. There it was.

Toph snickered. “Sounds like a match made in the Spirit World. Are you guys sure Zuko and Aang shouldn’t be the ones getting married next month?”

Zuko flushed a shade of scarlet as bright as his fire. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

Katara bit her tongue to hold back a snicker as Toph grinned at him. “Yes, I’m very aware.” Her grin narrowed into a sly smirk. “You’re sitting right here, and yet you deny nothing.”

Sokka burst out laughing, lightly elbowing Zuko in the ribs. “She’s got you there, hotman.”

Mai snorted at the nickname before giving Katara a play-sympathetic look. “Master Katara, how do you cope with the fact that my husband and yours-to-be are in love with each other?”

Katara sighed, leaning back in her chair and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, it was incredibly difficult for me to come to terms with.” She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “After I learned they’d kissed, I thought I’d never -”

“Oh, Agni,” Zuko groaned, burying his face in his hands at the same time Toph exclaimed, “Sparky and Twinkle Toes have kissed?!”

Katara couldn’t feign her melodrama any longer, letting herself succumb to a fit of intense laughter that made her entire upper body shake.

“Yes, they have,” Mai confirmed with a smirk. “It was hilarious, and I will never let Zuko hear the end of it.”

Zuko stared dead into the distance, his empty expression screaming that he’d rather be anywhere but there. “You’re going to tell them the story, aren’t you.”

The melancholic certainty with which he spoke was enough to make Katara snicker once more as she gave Mai a knowing glance, but before the Fire Lady could respond, Sokka spoke.

“Of course they’re going to tell us the story,” he scoffed. “The Avatar and the Fire Lord kissing? That’s the kind of thing you pass on forever to future generations!”

Suki laughed. “You sound way too invested for someone who has also kissed the Avatar,” she teased, smirking at her boyfriend.

Katara raised an eyebrow in amusement. Now that was news to her. “You did what, Sokka?”

Blood rushed to her brother’s face. “Not on the lips!” he squawked, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am just very comfortable in my feminine side around Aang.” He tapped his cheek. “So yes, we have technically kissed, but not like that.”

“To be fair, I’m pretty sure we’ve all been on the receiving end of Aang’s affection in some way or another,” Suki conceded. “That’s just his way of expressing love.”

A smile flitted onto Katara’s lips at her friend’s words. She knew most of all, perhaps, how Aang inclined towards physical affection. He was especially fond of kissing the tip of her nose.

“Really?” Sokka said, bewildered. “What, does he have a ‘thing’ with each one of us?”

Suki shrugged. “I mean, I guess so?” She smirked at their group. “Aang and I have a special, top-secret handshake. That’s our thing.”

Katara laughed. “I remember when Aang was just beginning to figure out the motions he wanted to include in your handshake.” She held her own hands up in joking surrender. “I was never privy to the final product, of course. Only experimental aspects.”

Sokka pouted. “First of all, I am hurt that I was never told this handshake existed. And second” - wounded, he placed a hand over his heart - “how come I don’t have a handshake with him?”

Suki rolled her eyes. “Babe, you said yourself that your thing with Aang is cheek kisses.”

Sokka appeared unconvinced. “Yeah, but I’m not the only one who gets cheek kisses from him.” He jutted his thumb towards his sister. “Katara gets them all the time!”

“Katara is also going to marry him, Snoozles,” Toph said with a snort. “I don’t think it’s totally off-base to consider she might have a few additional privileges compared to the rest of us.”

“Katara might be the one who snagged the Avatar,” Mai drawled, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, “but I think it’s safe to assume that everyone in here had a crush on Aang at some point in their life.”

Katara burst out laughing both at Mai’s declaration and the different forms of denial that followed. She’d long since accepted the reality that Aang’s charm meant many people would fall for him. And if anything, it made her feel even luckier that she was the one preparing for a wedding.

Mai appeared to thrive on the chaos she’d incited. The Fire Lady had clearly been spending more - maybe too much - time with Aang. “I don’t know why you’re all so up in arms about this,” she commented, studying her nails. “When I saw him dressed up for Zuko and I’s wedding, I wondered if I was marrying the right man after all.”

Zuko choked at her words, and Mai laughed as she patted him on the back. “Kidding. But I did think Aang was the best-looking man at the reception.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Zuko, who sighed, shoulders slumping. “No, I agree with her.” He flushed, his eyes dropping to the table. “Aang was definitely the most attractive person there.”

Katara remembered that outfit of her fiancé’s fondly. Saffron robes that danced the line between classy and casual, as fitting for an Air Nomad Avatar. And perhaps she recalled the attire begrudgingly, too, as it had attracted both wanted and unwanted attention towards her then-boyfriend at the reception.

“I’ll admit my heart fluttered the first time Aang returned to Kyoshi Island after the war,” Suki mused. “I hadn’t expected him to get so tall.”

Sokka gave his girlfriend an affronted look. “Wait a minute. Wasn’t I there -”

Suki silenced him with a finger over his lips. “Sokka. We both spent that weekend discussing how hot Aang had gotten. Don’t deny it.”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You were planning to make some moves on Aang?”

Sokka’s face reddened. “You know what?” he finally said. “Maybe in another life. I’ll leave it at that.”

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Toph,” Mai commented, giving the earthbender a small smirk. “When did you realize you had a crush on ‘Twinkle Toes’?”

Toph crossed her arms over her chest, which Katara noted with amusement did nothing to hide the rosy blush coloring her friend’s cheeks. “Never. Because unlike all of you, I’m blind and therefore cannot be affected by Aang’s so-called ‘good looks.’”

“Aw, but Aang is so much more than his looks,” Katara teased, unable to remain out of the chaos Mai had incited any longer. “What got you, Toph? His voice? His jokes? His incessant kindness towards anyone and anything?”

Toph opened her mouth before slamming it shut. “Fine,” she grumbled. “I’ll tell you. On one condition.” She pointed at Zuko. “I still want to know how Sparky and Aang locked lips.”

Mai snickered at her husband’s misfortune, and Katara herself couldn’t help but laugh as Zuko muttered a variety of curses under his breath.

“An easy deal,” Katara agreed. “Now tell us - what got you?”

Toph exhaled a resigned sigh. “His voice,” she grumbled, and the table burst into another round of laughter and cheers. Really, they were lucky that Iroh or even Aang himself hadn’t returned to investigate all the noise.

“Honestly, no one can blame you there,” Sokka remarked, shaking his head. “Who could have predicted Aang would grow up the way he did?”

Katara raised an eyebrow at her brother, though she doubted the expression was as intimidating as she intended it to be. “Really?”

“Okay, well, except for you -”

“Enough chatter!” Toph interrupted, slamming a fist on the table. A smirk pulled at her lips. “Sparky? Storytime?”

Zuko groaned. “Remember how I said I wished we could all meet up more often?” He shook his head. “I take it back.”

Suki laughed. “Stop whining and get on with the story, Zuko.”

“Or else I’ll tell it for you,” Mai added, slipping her hand into her husband’s. Katara couldn’t deny the story would be funnier if Mai told it, as she’d already heard it a dozen times from her friend.

Zuko sighed. “It’s not even an exciting story.” He rolled his eyes. “I was going over some paperwork with Aang and Mai. At one point, Aang was called away for - for Avatar business, or something.” He huffed. “Aang went to give me a ‘goodbye kiss’” - Zuko pointed to his forehead - “because that’s his ‘thing’ with me, I guess. But I didn’t realize what he was doing, so I looked up to ask him a question, and we -”

“- and you accidentally kissed?” Sokka finished flatly. “Aw, man! That is boring.” He shook his head in disappointment. “Such a letdown.”

“What Zuko conveniently forgets to mention every time he tells this story,” Mai said, amused, “is that he leaned into the kiss.”

Toph burst out laughing as Zuko adamantly protested that no, he had not, no matter what his wife said. “So,” the earthbender said amidst her snickers, “what I’m hearing is that Zuko never really got over his crush on Aang?”

“No, he did not,” Mai mused. “But it’s not like I can hold that against him. Having a crush on Aang is perfectly understandable.”

“If it’s any consolation, Zuko,” Katara said, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin atop her hands as she gave the firebender a devilish grin, “Aang thinks you’re a pretty good kisser.”

Her comment set their group off for the umpteenth time, and Katara snickered at the rollercoaster of emotions roaring over Zuko’s face. There was nothing better than sparking a little chaos every now and then, was there?

Huh. Aang had rubbed off on her, too. She supposed being engaged to him would do that.

“Uh… I feel like I missed something here?”

Katara bit the inside of her cheek to contain her laughter as Aang dropped into his seat beside her. “Oh, no. You didn’t miss anything.”

Aang stared with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment at their friends, who were yet to collect themselves. “Are you sure? What did you guys talk about without me?”

Katara hummed noncommittally, shrugging. “Nothing special.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Just how much we love you.”

~*~

more of aang being adored by his friends in fanworks 2k21, please and thank you. i hope you enjoyed my collection of ficlets for the week, and as always - thank you for reading!

[mrspanky]

The Time We Lost: pt 2.

(Pt.1 here).

Jason Todd x Reader (female pov).

Content: Angst, language, and mentions of killing.

Readers note: I had fun with this hehe. It’s mostly just angst/romance and nothing explicit happens here but anyone is free to expand the end to nsfw content, I’m just not comfortable doing so personally. If you guys are interested I’ll do a part three! I’m loving this series so far and I have some ideas for continuations. Songs to listen to while reading: Honestly I just had Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde on repeat while writing! Other songs I’d recommend that fit the storyline though, and not just the vibe, are are Scary Love by The Neighborhood, and If Only You Could Ease My Mind by Art of Sleeping.

𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫𓅫

You felt your face go white as you gaped at Jason entering the bedroom window. The red helmeted figure turned to face you and froze, standing tall and terrible, silhouetted by the storm outside sending lightning flashes through the sky. It felt like you were in a 1920’s horror movie. But you weren’t in a 20’s film, and the figure at the window was no Dracula. He didn’t move. “What are you doing here.” His voice was muffled because of the helmet and had a quality to it that told you he must have had a microphone in the mask he was using to make his voice clearer. It didn’t sound like him, but the way he pronounced his words was eerily the same as it had been. You shook off your nerves. “Hello to you too. You’ve been gone so long I thought it would’ve given you time to come up with a better opening line”.

You kicked yourself internally. You had no idea what mental state he was in, and here you were already giving him attitude. As you were worrying, he began to reach up to take off the helmet. A sense of dread overtook you. Would he be scarred? Would he even look like Jason anymore? He pulled it off slowly and ran his fingers through his hair. There was a grey streak in it that hadn’t been there before. “Wasn’t planning on seeing any of you again, sorry it slipped my mind.” Your heart sank. He looked so much older than he had, just as you’d noticed with yourself earlier in the mirror. Not in a wrong or crude way, necessarily, but it was a painful physical representation of the time you had both lost. “Were you just not going to let me know you were alive?” A strange sense of anger came over you. “Come on,” he smirked. “Did you really think I wouldn’t come back to haunt all you assholes?”

“So I’m an asshole now, is that it?” Casually, he took off his jacket and shirt and dropped them on the floor, then sat with his back to you on the bed, taking off his boots. “Maybe”. Infuriated, you exhaled sharply through your nose. “Jason, how the fuck am I the asshole here. You were gone for so long and then you just come back without a warning and start harassing Bruce, and you even have a new name and costume? I would’ve, and have killed during all this time just to hear your voice one more time. To hear you say you were ok. That you survived and that you were coming back...to...to us, ...but nothing! You were dead! We didn’t...we didn’t know. We couldn’t find you. We couldn’t find you, and then we all broke. I broke. And…” tears were streaming down your face. “...and...I’m sorry”. He was very still for a moment, and then he stood and walked to the window.

With his back still to you, he silently looked out at the storm still clashing outside. You stared at him, feeling hopeless. Suddenly, a sensation began to overcome you out of nowhere. Raising your hand to your forehead, you unexpectedly began to feel yourself sway, and you crashed to the floor out of exhaustion. Jason turned around quickly. Confusion and then fear overtook him. He approached you quickly and kneeling over you; he checked your pulse. Relief flooded him as he felt your heart beating steadily at your neck. “She was terrified,” he thought, cursing himself. “Way to go, fucking zombie.”

He hadn’t known you before to be someone easily scared, so he felt even more frustrated. “Why’d she have to come here. I didn’t need her to see me like this. Bruce deserves to see what he could’ve prevented happening if he didn’t have such a fucking stupid moral code, but she didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, she even said she’d killed. I don’t even want that for her, though. Damnit”. He looked down at your flushed face. Despite himself, he’d missed you. He carefully reached down and picked you up, walking over to the bed. He laid you down, trying to be as delicate as he could. “Well, this is a fucking mess,” he thought to himself.

You woke up in the middle of the night. Your head hurt, and you were somewhere you didn’t recognize. Dazedly, you sat up in the bed you were in and glanced around, trying to make out your surroundings in the light coming from the faint and soft city glow from the window. Your eyes landed on a figure on the other side of the bed from you, facing away from you. You jumped, startled by the unexpected sight. Quick as a flash, the figure turned over and pinned you to the bed. You looked into the eyes above. You recognized it to be Jason, as his eyes widened slightly, and he let you go and got off you, sitting up. You started to get up and back away. “Wait, I’m sorry,” he said. Without thinking, Jason reached out and embraced you.

This was so out of character, and both of you were intimately aware. The unspoken gravity of his action hung in the air. Well, it wasn't precisely out of character. Jason was born a naturally emotionally in-tune and affectionate person, but years of pain had given him walls that even he couldn't break down. You gasped and froze. It had been so long. He didn’t let go, partially because he was in shock from what he’d just done and partly because he was in shock from being this close to you for the first time in ages. You could smell his familiar scent of cigarette smoke and that musky cologne he’d been wearing for forever. You melted and began to cry silently. This was definitely the most you’d cried in a short period of time since you could remember. He tried to want to let go because of his fear of being truly intimate with people, but his feelings betrayed him, and he pulled you closer, holding you tightly as you clung to him just as tightly. His eyebrows furrowed in pain as he remembered against his own will how much he’d genuinely missed you. Before he had died, you had been the only person he could always count on, no matter what.

You softly lifted your hands and reached up, touching his face for the very first time. It was softer than you had expected, but you felt a few little scars. You stared into his intense blue eyes. They had a faint ring of hazel around the pupil, and it faded into tones of green that you’d never noticed before that meshed with the blue, creating a complex layering of colors that reminded you of the sky, sea, and earth, all coming to meet each other. He was so beautiful. Your stomach hurt from how badly you just wanted to absorb him to yourself forever and never let him be hurt again. You badly wanted to be closer to him, but you weren’t sure if kissing him was a good idea. He lightly inhaled, taken aback by your hand on his face, once again startled by the first positive physical contact he’d experienced since he couldn’t remember when. He gazed back at you, taking in every detail of your sad face. You were so ethereal in the lighting from the window, like a sorrowful angel from a stormy Renaissance painting.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He missed you. He really fucking missed you, and he wanted you. “Fuck it,” he thought. No more pushing this feeling down. Before he could change his mind, he reached forward and grabbed your face with both of his hands, sore from fighting but strong, and brought both of your lips into a harsh and desperate collision. You froze with shock, lighting spreading through your body. He was so strong and savage. And yet, he was tender. You felt that he’d been just as desperate for you as you’d been for him. “After all of the time we’ve lost,” you thought. You melted into him once more, kissing him back with the same level of desperation, as he brought his one hand to the back of your head and grabbed your hair, his other hand not leaving your cheek. You breathed heavily in between kisses. “This cannot be real,” you thought.

[kewltie]

Three days after the Earl of Aldera was spotted with an oiran in a Yoshiwara's teahouse, causing the rumor mill to spin in a heated gossip over it, Izuku wakes up that morning to the steward tentatively informing him that the lord had just slipped in late last night, dishevel and tired.

Without dropping his polite smile, Izuku thanks and asks him to have the cook prepare a luncheon for him and the lord instead of breakfast, and that they'll be eating in the garden for this afternoon.

With his orders given, Fujino is dismissed but he hesitates. Face wary, brows furrowing with consternation briefly before he opens his mouth. "This old servant has been watching over the Bakugou family since the time of Lady Mitsuki's father and I know the Bakugou have always been loyal and steadfast in their marriage vows," he says solemnly. "Do not care for the careless whisper of others, Master Izuku."

Izuku pauses, turning his head toward down the long hallway where the lord's chamber lies. The distant between his and Katsuki's chamber is but a minute walk, yet it feels enormous all the same.

"I know," he acquiesces, smile tights around the corners. "He's an honorable man, but forgive me for not being such a dutiful spouse to let my husband disappear for an entire week without a single word and not fret about it."

There's not a trace of an angry infliction held in his words, but it spears Fujino right in the heart with the severity of the lord's sin laid out in front of him like that. "M-master Izuku—" he starts, face flushed with anxiety, but Izuku quickly cuts him off with a dismissive wave.

"Do not worry, I will only have a talk with him," he says plaintively. "After all, as I understand it, it's not his fault that he find me difficult to confide in."

The smile cresting on Izuku's face is now crooked and detached like it's going to fall off at any moment because someone had haphazardly plastered it on and didn't bother to check if was done right before disappearing.

It feels fake. He feels fake.

It's as fake at that smile he'd worn against the sharp tongue of various lords and ladies at the theater house. Their sly but pointed inquiry into his marriage and the speculative looks they had sent him when they had found his answer lacking. He'd learned to endure it all with a smile.

Fujino’s lips part as though to argue, but quickly thought against it, snapping his mouth shut. The marriage affair between the nobility is a confounding but interesting melodrama that keeps the idle tongue of many people wagging for months. Gossip is a theater that sells no ticket but is always packed and for the member of the elite class of Kazoku, their kind of playhouse is ripe with scandals.

"I see," he says, lowering his head. "I'll have lunch set up for you in a few hours."

The breath didn't know Izuku was holding escapes him in a long, weary exhale the moment after the Fujino takes his leave. Izuku leans against the wall, gathering his thought and dispelling the somber cloud hanging over him. He slap his cheeks in a resounding smack.

"Alright," he murmurs to himself. His cheeks sting, but the pain is grounding. "You can do this, Izuku."

He pushes himself away from the wall and heads back into his chamber. He calls several maids to him and have them assist him out of his current kimono, a subdued brown iromuji. Earlier, Izuku had them help him get dressed in it and now he'd seemingly changed his mind on his chosen attire for the day, but their puzzle expression is fleeting. Their careful and deft hands quickly strips him to the nagajuban layer before placing a new kimono, the he'd selected, over him once more.

It's a brightly color blue houmongi with white peonies descending from the left shoulder, to the left sleeve, and down to the bottom hem. It's more formal and lavish than his earlier austere choice of a kimono. This one commands attention and expects nothing less than that. If there's ever a lesson to be learn from his nanny and mother is that alphas are strong. Their strength lies in their ability to exert dominance over others and command an entire room with the sheer force of their will. That is power, but there's no one absolute way to it.

Here is what Izuku knows: Katsuki is an alpha of good standing and noble birth. He had seen it firsthand how Katsuki is undeniably strong, smart, and brave; a true patriot to his country, who has undertaken the crown's mission to solve the worst afflicted crimes in the country.

Izuku's husband is truly amazing, but Izuku isn't lacking either. He can’t be if he is to stand by Katsuki’ss side. He may not run around Tokyo, haunting brothels and slumming it in gambling dens to weed out miscreant of society, but Izuku wages a battle of wits and arms himself with just as lethal weapon as Katsuki's fist. An omega's battlefield is in the space their home and in society's arena. This is where many battles are fought, where wars are won and lost. Izuku's sword is the sharp edge of his smile, his courtesy is his infallible shield, and each piece of clothes and accessories add layer to his armor. These are the measure of his strength; it’s not as obvious as Katsuki’s but it’s there and Izuku wields it deftly. He maintains Katsuki's household in an orderly shape, defends Katsuki's reputation against gossip mongering fools, and all the while keeps the facade of the perfect marriage between them. It's a trial, but Izuku perseveres on because he's a good, dutiful husband. He is the kind of omega his mother had stringently taught to put family and duty first, even at the cause of his happiness.

He did everything correctly, yet Katsuki still doesn't acknowledge any of his effort. Izuku has had enough. He's going to war and he's taking no prisoner.

A gold fukuro-obi with phoenix embroidery on the sash is wrap around his waist. He has a maid switches out the simple jade tama kanzashi adorning his hair for a more pronounce hirauchi kanzashi pinned to his bun in the crest of the Bakugou family.

It's all decorative, but piece by piece, each layer on top the other, it's a carefully orchestrated show that bellies a statement to all eyes. This is his armor of choice as he stares at the elegant and poise creature in the mirror that he hardly recognizes as himself anymore. This strange, confident man standing before him isn't Izuku, but if he’s to dress the part then he'll play the part. He always been good at stepping into the roles other had placed before him; the expected betrothed, the contentious spouse, and now the firm master of the household.

"Thank you," he tells the maids before dismissing them. Emboldened now, he strolls into Katsuki's study that he'd taken over since his arrival at the manor because his husband finds being trapped behind a desk to be criminally boring; he rather be out there raising hell and dodging bullets instead.

He spends the next hours combing over the household budget, reviewing party invites, and replying to missives from acquaintances. It keeps him busy and distracted enough that when a knock on the door from Fujino, informing him that they’re ready for him. catches him by surprise.

"Lunch is set up in the garden pavilion as you requested, Master Izuku," Fujino says.

"Is my husband awake yet?" he asks as he gets up from his seat.

"The lord had just woken up a moment ago."

"Good," Izuku says, stepping around the desk, "have him meet me there then." It’s not a request.

Fujino lower his head in acknowledgement, knowing this is command won’t be easy to comply but it won’t be deny either. Servants are the ears and hands of Kazoku’s household, privy to all sort of secrets, that it makes Izuku wonder what do the servants of the Bakugou household has to say about the marital spat of their lord and master? Nothing good, probably.

But they're loyal and discreet, and he can count on them not to spread rumors about the Earl of Aldera and his new spouse's turbulent marriage that ended Izuku in one bedchamber and Katsuki in the other and stilted conversation shared between them over sparse dinner, however true they may be.

Izuku walks toward the back garden of the manor, a massive green space that's a mixture of eastern design and western influence. There is a large lotus pond, cascading waterfalls, and stones path that is the hallmark of tradition, but also a hedge maze and a fountain centerpiece hailing influence from the west. Normally, when he’s at the manor he can be found in the office or in the library, but when he got time to spare he would wander through the garden, listless in thoughts. It reminds him of home, of the country side that he had left behind so he can marry Katsuki.

This small measure of a paradise is his haven.

The gazebo is located on the other side of a short bridge, arching over a pond with fishes swimming under it. He strolls up to it and immediately spots the plates of food already prep for him and his guest on a bamboo patio table. He takes a seat and pours himself a cup of hot tea.

And waits.

The tea is cool in his hand by the time the unmistakable musky, bitter scent of an angry alpha storm into the area, making his nose twitch in annoyance. The pungent scent is follow by the disgruntle face of Izuku's husband, glaring at him across the bridge.

Izuku puts his teacup down as Katsuki marches toward the gazebo, hands balled at his side and a frown etched onto his handsome face. A ticked off alpha is discerning, but so is an omega and their wrath isn't a fleeting thing.

"You had the servants dragged me here?!" he spits. He glowers down at Izuku, eyes narrowed in contempt. His presence a dark and domineering thing that makes Izuku's hand twitches minutely under the pressure he exerts over him. It's hard to breathe all of sudden. "Did you already forget who is the master of this household?"

Izuku smiles thinly. "That is difficult to say when you're rarely home as it is and I've been the one managing the entire household affair while you're gone, my lord." He cocks his head curiously. "Did you at least enjoy your time with Oiran Aoyagi at the Magnolia teahouse?"

Face red with outrage, Katsuki sputters out, "W-what, no, that is—I—"

Taking pity on him, Izuku cuts in, "Please sit and eat first." He gesture to the food on the table. "We can talk afterward." He looks like he's about to argue, but Izuku is already picking up his chopsticks, shutting down the entire argument before it can even begin.

Lunch is a quiet and stiff affair, full of stilted silence and sullen glances from Katsuki. The food had long since cool and the conversation is left halted in the air between, hanging over them like a dark, ominous cloud that neither of them is willing to address right now.

Izuku can count only a handful of times in his memory that he was able to share a meal with the person sitting across from him since he'd arrived here. Often he'll find himself eating a table of food all alone in this large manor with only his thoughts to keep himself company.

It's a strange existence to go from the rowdy, loud atmosphere of his own home—Kouta's rambunctious laughter, father's calm tenor, and mother's fond sigh—to this empty nest. He wonders when will this manor feels like another home to him, and if that day will actually ever come.

“Are you going anywhere after this?” Katsuki manages out between bites.

The unexpected question startles Izuku. “No,” he says with a curious tilt to tone.  

Katsuki stares at Izuku, eyes dropping from his face to the neckline of his kimono and then to the obi wrap tightly around his waist. “Then why are you dressed like that?”

He pauses, cocking his head. “Is there a problem with how I dress?” He had prepared this outfit to draw strength from, but Katsuki’s sudden acute attention to his choice of attire makes him self-conscious. He shifts in his seat and deliberately adjusts his collar as though that will keep him distracted from Katsuki’s heated gaze.  

“No, you look—“ he stops, swallows, and lets the rest of the sentence die on his tongue. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Dress however you like.” And goes back to eating, silently and surly.

Izuku’s brows pinch in puzzlement about this strange broach of topic, but Katsuki doesn’t appear to be receptive to further probing so he too resumes eating.

The rest of the luncheon is stifling affair as they both choose to stew in their awkward and taut silence.

Izuku stares down at his half-finished lunch, a bowl of rice and grilled fish, and suddenly doesn't find it quite appetizing anymore. He looks over at Katsuki who is wearing a constipated expression on his face as he shoves food into his mouth like every bite physically pains him.

If Izuku wasn't still nursing his anger from earlier, he would have find Katsuki's sulky action to be stupidly endearing, which honestly say a lot about him and what a fool he truly is.

"How do you find the food so far," he asks, a smile painted across his face once more. “I've been told it's made to your specific taste, my lord, but you must have had finer meals when you were at the Magnolia teahouse." He slips his hands under the table, wringing it unseen. "I have heard of many great things about that place. A world of dreams, they call it. It’s where all your fantasy can be fulfilled and every courtesan is lovelier than the last." His nails digging into his flesh, but the smile remains in place. "Many people have said that Oiran Aoyagi is easily the most beautiful the flower there. Truly a dream made real. I'm sure you are well acquainted with that knowledge since you spent so much time there." He's rambling now, he knows, but he can't stop this stream of bitter words from spilling out. "I can see why though. He’s not only beautiful but I've heard he’s talented in various arts too. Maybe, I should consider taking lessons from him since I'm lacking the necessary qualities—"

A hand slams down on the table, rattling all the silverwares and making Izuku swallow the rest of his words in shock. "Stop," Katsuki says, low and foreboding. "Just fucking stop it."

Caustic anger emanates from him. The air is pungent with his oppressive presence. The fact that they're outside shouldn't make Izuku feels so trapped of a sudden, but Katsuki's scent have always been an imposing and a tyrannical thing that can easily bully even other alphas.

Izuku bites back a whimper, crossing his legs under the table and pinching his hand to keep himself from slipping out of the chair to fall on his knees before his husband. He won't be unmade here. He refuses to. "I'm sorry, is there a problem?" he asks, keeping his voice steady. He smiles placatingly. "I'm sure we can easily resolve it if we talk it over."

"That right there! That fake ass smile of yours," Katsuki accuses, gesturing toward Izuku's face as though that explain everything. "Stop pussyfooting around. I don't need your polite pleasantries bullcrap." Hes sneers. "If you're furious then just tell it to me straight instead of treating me like one of those empty-headed fools you like to hang around with." He glowers at Izuku. "I'm your husband, not some insipid hanger-on you have to woo and ply with pretty words to get your way. If you're mad at me. Fine. Yell at me. Hit me. Throw something. I don't care, but don't you fucking dare hide your real self from me behind that phony smile."

Izuku's eyes round in surprise. "I—" His gaze drops down to his lap helplessly. "I can't. It wouldn't be proper." No matter how angry he feels, how hurt had dug its teeth into his battered heart, he just couldn't allow himself to express it fully. He can't expose his ugly side to Katsuki.

"Fuck propriety," Katsuki snarls. "If you're upset then you're upset. Don't spare my feelings. Especially when you think I have done you wrong."

Izuku jerks his head up. Heart constricting tightly, he asks warily, "So you—?"

Realizing what he'd just implied, Katsuki hurriedly spits out, "Fuck no, I didn't cheat on you with Aoyagi." He pauses. "Or with anyone for that matter."

"Oh," Izuku says stupidly for lack of a better word, even as Katsuki's confirmation warms him all over. He didn't doubt Katsuki's fidelity from the start, but hearing it said out like this suddenly make it easier for him to breathe.

Katsuki sighs, rubbing his face tiredly like a man at war. "Just stop whatever you were doing earlier. Be mad, get mad, whatever. Just don't be so distant." He turns away, ears flushing red. "Don't treat me like everybody else. I can't stand it when push me away like that."

"Oh," Izuku says again. Dumb and so irrevocably in love in that moment.

Since the time when Izuku was seven and discovered his fate was bound to another boy, he'd trained and learned all there was so that one day he can stand equal to his future husband. To be the master of the household, a good omega, and a worthy spouse just like his lady mother.

Compose. Strong in mind and sharp in wits. An unfaltering smile. Fiercely protective, but endlessly gentle and empathetic. Dutiful and ever faithful. These are the qualities that ultimately shaped his mother. Izuku can only hope emulates a quarter of Lady Inko's imperviousnessl, but no matter how hard he’d tried to follow in his mother's imposing footsteps, to never falter in his duties or bring dishonor to his husband and family, that sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night drowning cold sweats, haunted by this sense of helpless failure.

He wants to be good, but he doesn't always know what that even means when he has to endure the snide remarks from outsiders about his wayward, troublesome husband with only a smile as his shield and his tongue the sharpest blade he can wield to defend himself and their marriage. No matter how much faith he holds in Katsuki's words and the fidelity that he'd promised to Izuku and no matter how much he loves this honorable and stubborn man who bow to no one, he still waver occasionally; he doubts. This weakness in him is so abhorrence and horrid, that he hates himself for it.

Izuku bites his lower lip, eyes catch the edge of the table, and breathes. "I," an exhale, "I am indeed very furious with you." Katsuki's breath hitches. "And with myself mostly. I know you and I trust you, but you don't ever tell me anything, refused to even mention to me that you were going disappear for a week like that isn't important information at all! I had to find that out from our steward!" His voice rise with every offense laid out at Katsuki's feet. "And whenever anyone ask about your absence, which keeps happening that they don't even bother pretend to be surprise when you're not there with me, I had to come up with excuses for you!" He turns to Katsuki, his smile no longer in place because frustration has now overwritten it. "All the while rumors were getting around about you hanging out with prostitutes at teahouses and I had to keep smiling while getting speared by the truthful accusations, because you did have tea with Oiran Aoyagi but I wouldn't tell them why. Couldn’t , really, because I knew nothing about it.”

Eyes startling wide, Katsuki gasps out, "Deku, I—"

"No," he shakes his head, holding his hand out to cut him off, "I'm not done," he huffs. "You asked me to be honest and I'm trying here." All the hurt and anger he had been nursing begins to stir and rise to the surface. "So yes, I am mad at you," he admits softly, "but more than anything I'm furious with myself because while I insist on defending you and our marriage against these detractors, I find myself struggling to not believe their empty slanders as more days passed by."

Katsuki bristles in offense. "I told I didn't—wouldn’t do that shit."

Izuku sighs. "I know," he says, wringing the sleeve of his kimono in his hand. "I'm fully aware of your obsessive nature about honoring your vows, my lord, but that doesn't stop me from being insecure and doubtful, wishing that I was in Aoyagi-san's place instead."

"You," Katsuki's voice sounds oddly skeptical, "were jealous? You?!"

Izuku flushes, ducking his head as though to hide. "Very much so." It is so petty and rather childish of him. "Oiran Aoyagi is known to be extremely beautiful and well versed in many talents and I, well, am just me." He gestures to himself casually and grimaces. "I'm fully aware that I'm old fashioned, simple, and boring. I'm not a good much to a future duke, but I do my best to fulfill my duty as your husband." He smiles crookedly. "Though that doesn't mean I can compete with a high class oiran."

Katsuki glares at him. "Who the fuck said that to you?! I fucking rip their tongue out of their mouth if they dare."

"But that is the truth, is it not?" he muses. It sounds deprecating even to his own ears, but it’s hard to argue with facts.  

"You," Katsuki pinches his nose and heaves a sigh, "yes, you're nothing like Aoyagi, but it doesn't make it necessary bad. Aoyagi is," he makes a face of utter disgust, "annoying. He says a lot, but it's all empty words to get his clients to fatten his purse in the end and make you dance in the palm of his hands. He's smart and knows how to read people, but it's used to further his goals.” He leans back into his chair tiredly. “You can never let your guard down around him because if there's even a crack in your defense, he'll slip through and find what make you tick so he can use it against you later. He didn't survive this far by being a pretty, empty headed doll," he continues.

The words are biting but there's also a grudging sense of admiration and pride tucked in there. It makes Izuku’s chest tightens uncomfortably, wondering if Katsuki will ever think that way about him day. Aoyagi and Katsuki are friends even if he doesn’t admit it.

He looks at Izuku, pinning him with a pointed look that leaves him breathless. "Then there's you, and there’s plenty to say about that."

Izuku blushes, cheeks burning with such implication. "That's not—"

"Shut the fuck up, it's my turn to talk now." Katsuki scoffs. "I can be a blind fool sometimes to not see what it's right in front of me, but now I know how hardworking you are for one, faithful for another, but most of all you're kind even when the world isn't kind to you back.” He gaze softens as Izuku squirms under it. "Sometimes it's harder to be kind than it is to be cruel. I would know, because my first reaction to any offense is to lash out and hurt them back, but you," he grins sardonically, "would reach out and ask if there’s something first. It's stupidly softhearted of you because not everyone have some sob story for you to save them from," he flinches at those words, but Katsuki continues on undaunted, "but the fact that you try and empathize first with them make you better than most people. At least better than me and Aoyagi."

His last sentence is bitter and self-condemnatory. It reminds Izuku that Katsuki was a soldier, a war hero by everyone’s measure, but any mention of war and the things he had done out there always draw a conflicted and dour expression his face.

“My hands are unclean. I only had trade one battlefield for the next,” he once said in discussion of his employment with the crown. “Fighting is all I ever known and this is how I chose to find value in it.”

It had made Izuku’s heart ached when he’d first heard it.

"So if I hear anyone put my husband down like that again, I'll drag them out and beat their ass bloody." Katsuki glares at him. "Even if that person is yourself, you hear me Deku?!"

Mouth drops open, but not words come out of Izuku. He sucks in a deep breath and with his chest feels like it's going to collapse within itself, his manages get out, "Y-yes, I understand, Kacchan." It’s the familiar nickname that he had given to Katsuki when they first met all those years ago, but left behind when he didn't think he could call him that anymore.

It's Katsuki's turn to look away, ears red and right hand drumming anxiously on the table. "Good," he says, clearing his throat and looking like he's about to make a run for it. "If that's everything we have to say..."

"I wish to come with you on your next job," Izuku gently broaches the subject, but apparently not gentle enough because Katsuki's hand forcibly grips the edge of the table so hard that it makes a dent on it. He stares at it, then back to Katsuki's ominous expression.

"No," Katsuki asserts, eyes narrowed and lips pinched. "Absolutely fucking not. If I take you with me, I know some dirtbag is going to say something offensive in front of you, so I'm going have to duel them to defend your honor. Then it'll devolve into an utter shitshow."

Izuku pouts. "Why not? I don't mind."

"Well, I do," Katsuki retorts. "I won't have you hanging around the dregs of society in Yoshiwara."

Izuku raises a brow. "And you can? You're the heir to a dukedom."

"Yes, because I know what exactly kind of people they are," he snaps sharply, eyes narrowed. "They aren't like your high society friends whom you have tea with thrice a week. These are people who have to scrape the bottom of the barrel just to survive. They're grifters. Scavengers. Outcasts of society. Do you know how many people go missing there a month?" he demands.

Izuku shakes his head numbly, mouth drying.

"Too many to count." He makes face. "Too many for the police to do anything even though that's somebody's child, parent, sibling, or significant other. It doesn't matter to them because Yoshiwara is too wild to be tame so they don't bother." He glances at Izuku, eyes heavy and piercing. "That's why I can’t bring you there. It's not safe."

Izuku recalls just the day before Katsuki had disappeared, when he’d read the headline of the sixth mutilated body found in Yoshiwara that morning and grim determination set in his eyes afterward. "But it's not all bad, is it?" he prods.

Katsuki pauses thoughtfully. "No, it's not all bad." He wouldn't  havespend so much time away from home, away from Izuku, to hunt down the worst of the worsts in Yoshiwara if he didn't care—if he didn't think this place and its people are worth his time and effort to help them.

Izuku may not understand everything that has to do with Katsuki's job, but this he gets at least. He smiles. "So take me with you on your next job then."

Katsuki frowns. "Did you not hear what I just said about how dangerous it is there?!"

He nods his head, amused. "I did, but you also said it's not all bad there, and I'm sure the Great Hound of the Empire would have no problem keeping his husband safe, right?"

Katsuki's frown morphs into a deep scowl. "How did it take me this long to realized how incredibly annoying and stubborn you are?!"

Izuku's smile broadens. The sharp edge of Katsuki's words doesn't cut him as cruelly as before. His skin had grown too thick and he knows by now that when Katsuki want it to hurt, he won't use any flimsy knife and he'll go for the throat. "If you had care to spent more time with me then maybe..."

Katsuki winces. "I was neck-deep several cases."

"I know," he says, resting his hands on the table. "I understand how easily it is for you to get caught up in one of your cases." Too many times he'd seen Katsuki dragging his exhausted body home with a haunted expression on his face, haunted by the ghosts of the people he couldn’t save. For all his prickly and rough exterior, Katsuki easily bled for the people under his care. It's what Izuku loves the most about him; his tin can soldier with a bruised heart. "But as much I claim to understand your motivation, I only wish to be included in your world." His gazes drop forlornly down to his hands. "You never tell me anything. I don't know where you're going, how you’re doing, or who you're meeting up with when you leave the manor. The only news I get about you are from the mouth of others and even then it does not quell my anxiety and dread." He clench his hands, nails digging into his palm. "You'd said that the places and the people you encounter far too dangerous for me, so don't you think I have that same concern for you when you're out there running around in dark alleys and I don't know if you're safe at all?"

Katsuki opens his mouth, closes it, and sighs.

Feeling momentary courageous and encourage by Katsuki's lack of a rebuttal, he continues to press on, going for the throat. "And I wish to personally meet with Oiran Aoyagi for a one on one conversation,” he adds blithely.

"Huh?!" Katsuki demands. "Didn't I just explain to you that nothing is going on between us?"

"It's not about that.” Izuku roll his eyes. Honestly. "I only want to seek advice and to learn from him."

He splutters in outrage. "What the fuck do you even have to learn from a high class prostitute? You're my husband! The spouse of an earl! I won't have you be seen with him like that."

Izuku's lips thin out. "And yet you can, my lord?" he says dryly. "What's the difference between you and I then?"

"That's not it." Katsuki shakes his head, frustration blackening his mood. "You're not listening to me! Do you think this is all fun and game to me? I go there for work and not to play. You keep insisting you understand, but clearly you don't know what sort of place it is."

Under the table, Izuku slips his foot out of the zori and extends his leg toward Katsuki as he drones on about Izuku's lack of preservation skill.

"I can't let you tagged along like this is some sort of playdate," he spats. "And what do you even plan to talk to Aoyagi about—" Izuku keeps a carefully neutral expression as he attempts one of the moves he'd read in one of Lady Momo's highly recommended sordid romance novels.

He's painfully new at this game of seduction, but he's willing to learn and this seems easy enough to start especially now when Katsuki looks like he's want to strangle him for even considering going with him to Yoshiwara. Maybe this will be enough to distract him from his rant.

"—do you think Aoyagi is just going to happily have tea with you like you're bosom friends?!" Izuku's leg creeps over to Katsuki's pants leg and he runs his foot around the ankle first.

Katsuki's speech ceases at the touch. Eyes widen in shock. Mouth agape as he stares at Izuku. Izuku continues to keep his face blank as he move his socked foot toward the calve, slowly making its way upward toward the thigh and—Katsuki jerks out of his seat so unexpectedly and forcibly that he kicks the table with his knees hard. So hard that the wooden legs give away and breaks.

Izuku quickly withdraws his leg and blinks as their lunch comes crashing onto the floor and the table cracks in half under the force of Katsuki's sudden and violent shock. He scrambles away from Izuku, mouth snapping open then shut. Again and again as he struggles to find words. Face flushed, hands clenched into a fist by his side as his eyes darts across the garden, anywhere but at Izuku. He looks manic and helpless, and Izuku is stunned by the sight of his fierce and steadfast husband so out of sort because he decided to play footsie with Katsuki under the table.

Izuku rises to his feet, feeling like went at this completely wrong. Wasn't this how people flirt with their spouse? Was the book wrong? It is romance novel after all. Not exactly a how to guide to woo one’s spouse. Perhaps, he got the right idea after all to seek help from Oiran Aoyagi to properly seduce Katsuki if his first time flirting went this badly.

Distressed, Izuku steps around the broken plates and wasted food. "F-forgive me, Kacchan," he says, chagrin. "I didn't mean to offend with my amateurish flirtation skill." He wrings his hands anxiously. "I'll make sure to do better next time!"

Katsuki makes a strangled noise that sounds like a dying animal.  "Who the fuck taught you that," he demands furiously, still refusing to meet Izuku's eyes. "Don't ever to do that again. With anyone." He clears his throat. "Now if you would excuse me, I have some matters to attend to." And he turns around and runs off, leaving Izuku alone and terribly confused in the aftermath.

Was he not being to forward enough? Maybe that was too weak. He’ll just be more aggressive in the future, Izuku swears to himself. 

[usermaha]

Red ask game (Taylor’s Version)

from @catefrankie​

1. favorite song off of red?

this album’s especially difficult for me to choose a favorite from, but right now i’ll go with state of grace, for the way it absolutely blows me out and pulls me in this world of whirlwind romance and heartbreak.

2. favorite simile in red?

fighting with him is like trying to solve a crossword and realize there’s just no right answer

3. which songs are you most looking forward to seeing rerecorded?

4. favorite red-era music video?

ikywt. the drama. the grunge rock visuals. the pink highlights in the ruffled hair. the intro spoken lines. waking up stranded in the festival. the scene in the motel the next morning, the guy is shirtless. (12-year old-me: can’t unsee the implications) taylor in the bathroom wistfully touching the light bulb. borrowing his hat. he gets a tattoo. the camera shots at the concerts as he’s dancing with the other girls. obsessed since 2013. 

5. favorite lyric from “all too well”?

the delivery of ‘im a crumpled up piece of paper lying here’ she’s clearly screaming crying. it like dashes my skin open every time. 

6. are you feeling 22?

no :(( i feel 19 and on fire its too hot here

7. what did red mean to you when you first listened to it?

it really intrigued me. i looked up the lyric videos on youtube in a random order, but i loved the variety of one song from another, that between the pop anthems there  were mellower tracks with depth and nuance and storytelling. this (along with speak now) were the first albums i heard from taylor, and she obviously won me over to be a stan.

8. what does it mean to you to have red coming out again now?

over the years this have been the OG 4 (cause there were 4 when i joined) im the most in love with so im mad hyped. fall and winter are my favorite seasons, and while i would love to jam to a summer bop lately i’ve been feeling very melancholic (more than usual hahaha im a sad bitch always) with the grief of 2020 and graduating school and starting college. so i can’t wait to slip on a cardigan, order some coffee and get gutted at the feels

9. favorite vocal moment in the album?

i almost do, the part after the chorus she changes everytime, it sounds so sweet and heartwrenching

10. what item/outfit in your closet reminds you the most of taylor’s fashion during this era?

i have a grey hat similar to taylor’s that i bought on a whim but never wear anywhere cos you cant just wear a hat in public. i thought i’ll wear it when i see her on tour :(( delusional girl she’s never coming here :(

i just remembered, one of my pandemic impulse purchases was a gorgeous red flower crown. will be sure to bust that out for release day

11. who do you want to see taylor collaborate with in the vault songs?

considering the vibe of the era, lorde for a melodrama pop anthem, and lana for a more wistful track

12. the hat in the original album cover or the hat in the taylor’s version album cover?

i have some qualms with the new cover :)) so old hat for sure, absolute icon. i know i probably had that hat as a pfp in evermore era, but now i only thing i can think is it must be so warm

13. favorite thing about autumn?

temperatures getting lower :) it always seems like i have to wait too long for an actual significant temperature drop, and in halloween i dont have candles i have the fan on. 😡 so when it finally happens its like magic, the mood is wonderous, even when exams are drawing closer. i get really hyped around halloween for a few years, not for anything legitimately scary but to pull out the Dark Academia color pallete, and i watch a not-super-scary movie with my bff so wholesome times :)

14. which of taylor’s other albums do you most consider to be red’s sister album?

folklore. the sad times are back, but it’s not cute anymore, it’s darker and more existential. also, theory, the relationship referred in ‘the 1′ and further explored and romanticized throughout is the one from red.

15. favorite bridge from the album?

the last time, the drama reaches the cresendo in intensity, and it ends with the harmonizing ‘oh-oh-oh-oh’.

16. do you have a lot going on at the moment?

there’s the college thing, but it sure feels like not a lot when you’ve spent the entire summer in your bedroom. the release of red TV is that cool thing im anticipating, *prepares* i have to prepare 

[madamescarlette]

Eden!! Merry Christmas time darling! <3 I hope it has been lovely for you! Anyways I was wondering about Lorde songs—I don’t know her but I heard two of her songs and now I want to hear more, and I know you love her so I thought I’d see if you have any recs?

hi Magpie!!! thank you thank you, I’m having a very happy Christmas indeed.  And ohhh I am SO excited for you to be getting into one of my very favorite artists, darling!! Lorde has an ability, I think, to describe a feeling of being young and yet feeling so much like you are already old and dying that was something I especially needed to be assured that I was not the only one that felt like that growing up, and I am very grateful to (and fond of) her for. I want to just give you a few songs that are my very favorites, and some reasons why:

Liability – This is, if anything is, the quintessential Lorde song. It is everything that has the specific magic of her touch- a slow ballad, viciously full of color, killing you in one stroke with its words. There are very few songs I can think of that can so precisely paint me a picture of what it feels like to be a lonely girl, wrapping your arms around yourself trying to make yourself feel better about the aching void of the longevity of life. If you were going to start anywhere in Lorde’s discography, this is absolutely a great spot to begin.

Writer in the Dark -- This is another incredibly articulate, colorful, darkly precise song that I have a hard time articulating why it is so perfect to me that you can’t already hear from her voice already. The way she seems to root her feet, with an iron will insisting that she will both be the person who loves longest and the one who will learn to live without them, is this sweetly prideful and pure insistence that truly gets to me. This is a song that paints me a picture of what it is to be somebody who pours their heart out for what they deem is important, and how much that can drain that self-same giver. But at the same time, it has such an ethereal note of hope in the second verse- I ride the subway, I read the signs, I let the seasons change my mind that seems so at odds with the vengeful voice of the chorus. But that is what I hold to more of this song than anything else; that even when we feel such bitterness and darkness at the ending of something we wanted very much, eventually that bitterness falls away and you learn to be a person in the world again, reading and swaying and listening and partaking in it once more. And this is such sweet hope, such an important reminder for me. 

Hard Feelings – This is my personal favorite of all of Lorde’s songs, at least so far. Melodrama as a whole, but this song in particular really did see me through one of the hardest years of my life, and the complete reason why is because of this song’s bridge. In a way, I can see now that this song bowls me over in the same way that cardigan does, but this song is more particularly about learning to heal and grow again after having to let go of love. The words I care for myself the way I used to care about you and then I start letting go of little things till I’m so far away from you have curled up right in the center of my heart and never left. It is one of my favorites because it stands in such sharp contrast in the theme I’ve been thinking so much about these days, which is how much the world needs us to move on, and how I simply don’t want to, and never have, and how for me to survive, sometimes I can’t leave things behind, but instead I pick them up and carry them on with me.

The back half of this song, which is a completely other song called Loveless, is more of an interlude than anything and it is something of a contradiction for what Hard Feelings is, but I find it more fun than anything- because it is exactly what a heartbroken 19-year-old would tell herself to make herself try to turn to stone against her broken heart. To insist that love does not inherently have meaning is something that would help bury the aforementioned hard feelings, but at some point or other you do have to decorate your house and learn to put all that love you were spending on someone towards care for yourself and your own life, at last. It’s a bit of a relief for me, to remember that our love is not wasted even if one love is gone. We simply have to learn where it can grow now, moving on.

400 Lux – This song, more than anything, is Lorde’s best song about youth, if only because it reminds me most of the friendships of my youth. There is something infectiously lazy, peaceful, and overall serene about this song, something that calls to mind my years spent hovering in bookshops and parking lots and hallways with my friends while waiting for class or whatever else I spent time waiting to begin, or being driven around by family while in the backseat, pressing my face to the windowsill and daydreaming. There is also very much a love story at the center of this song’s story, and in its looseness you feel the utter ease that is part of Ella’s writing’s enchantment- she, perhaps more than any other songwriter I know of, can instill you with the absolute bottled-up-sense of the feeling she had in that particular moment. The song itself seems to merely swim and crawl its way through time, the way time seems to move in company of people who you love, who understand you, and you are able to simply- exist.

Ribs – This is a song that is perhaps most lauded of both of her albums, and perhaps rightfully so. Sometimes I simply have to listen to it and let it wash over me when I have nothing left in me to think of or to feel anymore. It is, in itself, a lament about feeling like you are getting older without being able to stop it, like time is wildly spinning itself out of control and you can only watch. I’m not sure I can tell you anything about it that you won’t be able to infer yourself, because I think the magical thing about this song is that it, in some strange, lovely way, is one song that everyone I know of forms a particular bond with for reasons that are all their own. I’m not sure I can even properly articulate mine.

Supercut – This one is also special to me. This song is one that a lot of people like to point out that sounds the most Taylor of Lorde’s work, which while I don’t think T had any hand in writing it, is also a good point to understanding the song’s appeal. Lorde’s work tends to be a great deal more macro than Taylor’s- T is more about the world hidden inside one moment, even literally with The Moment I Knew, or other long-spread, long living moments like Last Kiss- but one of her particular skills is when she flashes an entire spread of moments past your eyes in such vivid detail that you find yourself blindsided and overwhelmed- i.e., cardigan, Cruel Summer, Out Of The Woods. This is the exact same storytelling method that Lorde uses here, to beautiful, productive effect. You have a sensation of watching the entire lifetime of a love lived flashing past your eyes, while she both mourns and celebrates what it was. It is, in its own way, both a way of holding onto something and letting go of, both a lament of what she should have done and been, and a toast to what was real and good and true. And that particular head nod of hers, the way that she is holding her glass up to what it was, is both so cheekily sweet and bitter and joyous at the same time, in only the way that Ella can be, for her to both be crying over something and laughing her guts out over the happiness of having lived it.

A World Alone – This is my other favorite of Lorde’s discography, though as I’m sure you’re finding out, they’re all my favorite, really. It is perhaps my favorite because it, in itself, is an entire world bound up in itself. It’s my favorite love song of hers, perhaps ever, and most of all, it is a song that seems like the world in it seems to keep on going and revolving, even long after the viewer’s eye has shifted away from it, and it has my heart particularly for that. I said once that this song seems to me to be almost like a snowglobe in the way that we can see two lovers, looking at one another, and feeling like everyone else is falling away, and that moment in itself is the entire world wrapped up in itself. And it absolutely has that feeling, probably the only feeling you can get when you’re in love with your best friend, where you are understood through and through by one person who is always standing by your side tall and proud, so everything else is just dust and noise in the air and doesn’t matter to you in the slightest. It is so utterly full of peace, full of hope and love and affection, the kind that goes down, down, down into you past the point of fear and doubt, and can only keep living on in you forever. It is one of her best.

(This is also, since you’re also a Match fan, the quintessential Emmett/Grace song to me, being a best friends to lovers song. !!!)

Liability (Reprise) – This song has the most hope of maybe any song I’ve ever heard, besides evermore. This is another song that saw me through a dark time in my life, and I will forever hold it close to me. It is a song that is an exact weapon against the deep-clawing fear and anxiety of the original Liability, a song that posits that you can never be loved for what you are if you are an inherently unlovable thing. The reprise is a song that is based around, founded upon the realization that even if you feel like the things that you are are abrasive and vicious and violent and hateful, they are not in themselves unlovable things. You are not forever cut off from love, nor from grace itself. You too can be reached, and are never safe from light’s reach. You can always be found, and you can always come back. You’re not what you thought you were. That’s where the overall story of Melodrama leaves off, before leading off with the closing track, and it is such a loving assurance, a balm to particular wounds of my heart, that I have never been able to forget it. I’ll carry it with me always, because it is more than anything a song about rejecting the false notion that any of us are unworthy of love, and learning to instead embrace the fact that we can strive and search for grace, and that it is attainable for us. I love it dearly! I hope you will too.

…and so those are just a handful of my favorites/highlights! Of course pretty much all of Lorde’s music is something that is very close to my heart, but these best sum it up for me. I also wrote some old meta/songs asks about Melodrama some time ago, which you can find here (x x x x) that I still stand by if you’d like further reading/thoughts!

[dantesinfcrno]

                                 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

                                                (  @opalsmedia​​  )  

    ›   𝑰. ACE OF CUPS .

❝  divine love and compassion are pouring through you. you are a vessel for deep, spiritual love from the universe, and you can’t help but let that love flow through you and into the world. you are love  &  your heart overflows .  ❞

           𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋  ––––––  the days grow darker than you’ve expected, and that harms the sweet thing you call a heart. the numerous fights, the copious amounts of tension, and the stress that pools in your stomach –– you’re certain you can’t handle it any longer. perhaps, you are too soft for this world in which anger  &  chaos reign. you try and shield yourself, but it’s never enough : your heart still beats so strongly, and you can’t stop giving  &  giving, until you’re alone with the remains of your chest. you weren’t expecting a ruthless emerald to open his arms to you, and yet–– in him, you discover at least one safe spot, tucked away from the world  &  all things evil. he reminds you of a book you loved as a child, and he has a nice way with words –– it makes dreaming easier, in such harsh times, and you can smile when he is around. he does not ask anything from you. you are grateful. 

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  braver soldier, russian red  +  i like me better, lauv  +  boats  &  birds, gregory and the hawk.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  laughter that fills our lungs ; smiling until our cheeks ache  &  our bellies are warm ; yellow and orange shades peppered across your skin ; the summer bringing out your freckles. we find secret gardens  &  have picnics, us and the fairies. childhood is still very reminiscent in the way we lay down and embrace one another. we speak of running away, but instead just end up with more polaroids on our desks. i prefer your sweater much more than my own. cozy blankets ; soft intimacy ; rose-colored glasses.

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  on empathy : what it sounds like is a bird breaking small bones against glass .  ❞

   ›   𝑰𝑰. THE HIGH PRIESTESS .

❝  the guardian of the subconscious mind and the teacher of sacred knowledge and hidden mysteries. she ushers you through the thin veil of awareness, offering you a deep, intuitive understanding of the universe and a heightened awareness of secret or hidden information .  ❞

           𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋  ––––––  you are a very distant cousin, maybe not even that. you grew up hearing tales of dante’s mother, and you are keenly aware of the distaste your family has for her, her husband, and her son. you’ve seen each other once or twice, but you know dante desai –– all the rumors, scandals, absurdities  &  controversies. he might not have given you a word, but your image of the emerald with a dazzling smile has darkened under the influence of gossip and ill-intentioned people. you are not sure why he’s in the society at all and, if you’re being candid, he doesn’t seem deserving of any of your respect –– but alas, business means business, so you try and play nice ( it fails, more often than not, as he seems to know every word uttered about himself in his absence ). he teases you, and pushes you to try harder, reach farther. it annoys you deeply, and you hold back from simply telling him to shut up. maybe you want to prove you’re so much better, maybe you want to make him aware of how much he’s missing. maybe you just want the approval of someone, anyone.

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  black sheep, gin wigmore  +  hit me with your best shot, adona  +  make me your queen, declan mckenna.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  misplaced competitiveness  &  rivalry ; wanting to prove yourself ; defiant words and poignant stares ; discovering the truth isn’t always hand-fed ; accepting the lies you were told when growing up  &  moving on from them ; familial resentment ; finding things in common with someone you hate ; learning you share many scars with the object of your disdain. biting remarks  &  vicious tongue ; clashing of titans. finding an equal match to the monster that crawls under your skin. enemies to friends.

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  the monster. the dreamer, the eater. the eater monster. you the monster, i the monster. all of us the monster. the monster in us, the monster in you. the monster in all of us .  ❞ 

   ›   𝑽. THE HIEROPHANT, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝  you are your own teacher. all the wisdom you seek comes from within – not from some external source or power. the hierophant reversed is also about challenging the status quo. you seek out opportunities to rebel and reclaim your personal power .  ❞

           𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋  ––––––  you’ve always had your eyes on dante, it seems –– it’s not at all too hard for it to happen, considering the bright glitter  &  colorful clothes, but you perhaps admire him more than your peers. individuality attracts you, and you may or may not have one silly crush on this man –– however, once you came closer, an infatuation turned into a solid bond. you seem to share similar principles, and the need for freedom  &  change is rooted deeply in both of your cores. you can speak for hours on end about everything at all, open-mindedness not shared with many others you’ve met. everyone might be worried once the two of you are seen together, as you’re always up for some trouble –– but, maybe, that’s just how love works in this friendship. fire burns brighter as you come together as an unit, and it almost makes you giddy.

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  void, the neighbourhood  +  come as you are, nirvana  +  sober ii (melodrama), lorde.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  forbidden crushes ; midnight escapades ; i know your favorite wine  &  you know how many drinks it takes for me to get tipsy ; we know each other at our worsts. the act of loving  &  supporting each other in all one sets their mind to. may be guilty of arson  &  invasion of properties. the lack of hesitation to defend one another. uniqueness  &  playfulness ; deep conversations under the moonlight ; sharing the same fears we never uttered aloud ; feeling trapped under the same pretense of freedom ; watching clouds  &  constellations ; staying awake until seven am to see the sun rise.

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  wings are freedom only if they are open in flight. on one’s back they are a heavy weight .  ❞ 

  ›   𝑽𝑰𝑰𝑰. JUSTICE .

❝  represents justice, fairness, truth and the law. you are being called to account for your actions and will be judged accordingly. as you explore your truth, you will discover that things are not as clear-cut as you had thought .  ❞ 

          𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  ––––––  admitting to his past relationship with his own predecessor put a huge toll on dante’s shoulders, and you now observe him with more care, an attention you never truly bestowed upon the trickster of your circlet. his distress might tug at your heartstrings, it might make you wonder –– you might see him differently, now. your relationship might be strained. perhaps, you desire to reach out, offer the support he never asked for. perhaps, you do not know how. you are curious and worried, but the feelings of betrayal still linger on your bloodstream, whether you like it or not. should you ask for clarifications? step further into his personal space? should you step back, abstain from commenting anything? does he need your help? does he even care about what you think?

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  you don’t know me at all, son lux  +  stop crying your heart out, oasis  +  all for us, labrinth  &  zendaya.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  lingering stares across the room ; desiring to speak but now knowing how ; sending text messages but not wanting to read the replies ; sheepish smiles  &  shared silences ; holding back your tears, even while near loved ones ; solitary nights with clouds covering every star. i worry for you, dear one, but you make it so hard to take care of you. when it rains, we hold each other’s hands. you taste sour, i taste bittersweet, but we still love. i would do it all for you, why won’t you ask for it?

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine .  ❞

   ›   𝑿𝑽. THE DEVIL, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝  calls on you to confront your inner fears to free yourself from the chains that bind you to your limiting beliefs and unhealthy attachments. it can also appear when you are going into your deepest, darkest places. you seek to understand your innermost shadows so you can either release them or integrate them into your life in a more constructive way .  ❞

           𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋  ––––––  you struggle, and you struggle hard. you would never admit you’re going through a heavy time, perhaps not even to yourself. you move lightly, with grace, and no one questions the tightness of your smile. it’s easy, like this –– except you’re tired, and your bones ache, and you can barely sleep at night. it surprises you, however, once you find the bright emerald drinking by himself in one of the shitty bars you go whenever life gets rough. you sit by his side, you both share a sigh  &  a shot. he finds out one of your many secrets, and you discover some of his scars, and the pills on his pocket. you hold his hand, and he takes you home safely, kisses your forehead while bidding you good night. you share many text messages, and you meet up often. you get better at recognizing the signs of sadness on each other’s faces. life is not any happier, but now, at least–– you have an emergency contact. you can sob on his shoulders until you fall into unconsciousness. he smiles at you in the morning and brings you coffee. no more words are needed.

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  shadows, warpaint  +  blinding, florence and the machine  +  haunt, banks.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  blue shades ; melancholy ; van gogh’s paintings ; scars that never fade away ; the dull ache of quiet piano strings echoing throughout an empty room at the darkest hour. inebriated confessions ; hushed conversations ; many bottles of whiskey, both cheap  &  incredibly expensive. not knowing much about each other, and yet discovering the hidden away pieces by yourself. becoming dependent on the emotion of being understood  &  seen. helping each other up and forward, even when there is no strength left. exhausted  &  broken smiles ; thunderstorms ; lending you my jacket and never getting it back, because you need as much comfort as you can get ; dancing in the rain  &  laughing about it hard and loud.

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  i have no more room for grief for it is everywhere now .  ❞

   ›   𝑿𝑽𝑰𝑰. THE STAR, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝  can mean that you’ve lost faith and hope. you may be desperately calling out to the universe to give you some reprieve but struggling to see how the divine is on your side. take a moment to ask yourself what the deeper life lesson is, and how this is a blessing, not a punishment. the reversed star is a test of faith .  ❞

          𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  ––––––  the opal society, more than ever, seems like bullshit to you. you are angry, upset, distraught–– you can think of many words that echo your insatisfaction, and this initiation process no longer looks like something you want to be a part of. life is a burden heavy enough without a secret society wrapped in the mayhem of horny young adults tying you to statues. you definitely didn’t expect for dante, of all people, to become a guiding light –– the one that took his own initiation as a joke, broke the rules, and is known for frequently getting in trouble? how the fuck could that guy give you answers? truth be told, he doesn’t –– nothing is ever easy with him, it seems, and no surface-level impression seems to make him justice. the both of you now speak frequently, and he helps you stabilize your thoughts –– the guy can manage to give out some decent advice, at least, and you might even trust him, now. he likes pros  &  cons lists, and also vaguely pointing at the light at the end of the tunnel, just enough so it will fill you with hope. it is enough, for now.

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  i need some sleep, eels  +  i’ll die anyway, girl in red  +  i found, amber run.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  an unexpected discovery ; knowledge where you thought least possible to find. the trade of fears  &  unsure confessions ; gentle parental guidance into the shoes meant for you to fit. tender reassurances over the phone ; a pat on the back ; a small gift that means “ i am proud of you ”. rediscovering the love for one’s circlet through the eyes of another. silent promises ; candles  &  wishes you never shared before ; feeling as if you’ve known someone from your past lives  &  forever carrying them in your heart.

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  you are in conflict with yourself. you are holding yourself in check. you are paralyzing yourself .  ❞ 

   ›   𝑿𝑰𝑿. THE SUN, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝  is calling to your inner child to come out and play. see it as your permission slip to leave behind your responsibilities, even just for a moment, and play. you may have experienced setbacks that damaged your enthusiasm and optimism and perhaps led you to question whether you can achieve what you set out to do .  ❞

           𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋  ––––––  dante is a disappointment to you. he let you down or hurt your feelings, and you can’t forgive him for that ( and you won’t even try, because he doesn’t deserve it ). there are plenty of good memories attached to his name, but it all has turned sour, and you want to watch it crash  &  burn. he might try and make amends, but you know he doesn’t even care for you, deep down –– he is trying for your sake, perhaps, but not because he nourishes an affection for you, and that stings. if it has to be like this, you want at least to let him know how irresponsible actions are not easily forgiven. a broken heart for another seems fair trade to you, and you no longer care for entertaining an endless discussion, as long as you’re on the winning side.

          𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒  ╱  view here.

          𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆  ╱  no one loves me  &  neither do i, them crooked vultures  +  motion sickness, phoebe bridgers  +  eyes, nose, lips, tablo.

          𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒  ╱  unanswered phone calls ; ghosting ; writing letters just to burn them. cold war  &  avoidance. knowing that you want what you can not have. marble statues ; an empty bed ; freezing fingers  &  no one to hold your hand. emptiness ; the feeling of being unworthy ; lighting a match once the power goes out  &  sitting alone at your couch, daydreaming. bittersweet intimacy. the fact that someone you now hate knows way too much about you. not letting go. 

          𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒  ╱  ❝  he fatally wounded me; that is, he gave me the wound that only love could repair .  ❞

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Pop artist Nadia Vaeh has dropped her new music video for her powerful track 'Anxiety'. The video reflects on her personal mental health struggles and how she copes with the highs and lows of anxiety. The video shows Nadia alone at home coping with what the real and raw effects of anxiety look and feel like. As an advocate, she hopes her music can inspire people to embrace the conversation of mental health and be a reminder that they are not alone.

Babeheaven, the project of West Londoners Nancy Andersen and Jamie Travis, share their latest single, 'Craziest Things', along with a video from the award-winning illustrator and animator, Sacha Beeley. The track is taken from the duo’s much anticipated debut album, Home For Now, which will be released on November 20 via AWAL, and follows the singles 'Cassette Beat' and 'Human Nature'. About the track, Nancy said: “On 'Craziest Things', I explore my anxiety and insomnia, not being able to make sense of my emotions and running around in a state of mania.”

Moscow-based multi-talented avant-pop artist Kate Shilonosova aka Kate NV has just unveiled a video for 'Lu Na', a track taken from her last album Room for the Moon. Drawing from “unlived memories of 70s and 80s Russian and Japanese pop music and film,” the project also comes with vintage and surreal conceptual videos inspired by the shows she was watching as a child. In these new Gina Onegina-directed visuals, she introduces four dancers voguing in pinky cats outfits. “‘Lu Na’ was originally planned as a dance clip consisting mostly of one repetitive loop—simple pattern where cats walk in a square one by one,” she stated. “This pattern was hugely inspired and based on [Samuel] Beckett’s piece Quad which I love. Originally I just wanted the sun to appear slowly behind those cats while they walk. All of the dancers were wonderful, they brought so much life to the characters of those cats!” [via High Clouds]

Kississippi, the increasingly pop-minded project of the Philadelphia musician Zoe Reynolds, have released a new single, 'Around Your Room'. Kississippi got their start making wispy and hypnotic folk reveries, which opened up into more muscular fare on their debut full-length, 2018’s Sunset Blush. 'Around Your Room' is their most unabashedly pop song yet, a strobing synth that pulls from Lorde’s Melodrama providing the main thrust for Reynolds’ gauzy lyrics about memory and its inexorable pull. Reynolds cowrote 'Around Your Room' with Sarah Tudzin of Illuminati Hotties, according to a tweet from Tudzin. “This song tells a story of yearning and infatuation. It’s about being hopelessly enamored in a way that took me back to my youthful perception of love,” Reynolds said in a statement. “It represents those moments where you’re fully infatuated with someone and they’re all you can think about. I’ve written about love in a cynical manner in the past and this song was written as a reminder of the magic and euphoria that comes with it.” 'Around Your Room' is the lead single from a new Kississippi album due out next year, Reynolds’ first for Triple Crown. Watch director Josh Coll’s video for the song above. [via Stereogum]

Tank and The Bangas have announced a new EP called Friend Goals. Due out November 20 via Verve Forecast, the six-track, guest-heavy release is being previewed with the track 'Self Care'. The New Orleans-based group are known for their collaborative habits, having this year teamed with the likes of Jacob Collier and Fantastic Negrito. Friend Goals, as the title might suggest, brings together a number of artists Tank and The Bangas have befriended over their career. The follow-up to last year’s Green Balloon LP features guests like CHIKA ('Mr. Insta'), Duckwrth ('Fluff'), PJ Morton ('TSA'), and Pell on the title track. Lead single 'Self Care' actually touts three collaborators: Jaime Woods, Orleans Big, and Anjelika “Jelly” Joseph. The track itself is exactly what we need in 2020, an ode to being with yourself and being damn okay with it. “Chillin’ all by myself/ Netflix, eatin’, cheatin’, by myself, all by myself,” Tarriona “Tank” Ball spits, clearly enjoying her alone time. “Nobody else/ New people to the left/ What is there left but myself?” “‘Self Care’ is THE quarantine song to get you moving,” Ball said in a statement. “It shows that some of the best things can come out from solitude, especially when the beat hits this hard.” Take a listen above via the song’s Fat Happy Media-directed video. [via CoS]

New Zealand’s platinum sensation BENEE unveils the official video for her latest single 'Snail'. For the visual, BENEE and director Anita Fontaine deliver a lush and larger-than-life fantasy befitting of the track. In the colorful clip, BENEE wakes up to feed her giant snail roommates and slides around their slime trails before heading to work in her secret elf lab. Soon, she’s cycling out of her home—a concrete replica of her own head—out into a storm. After being struck by lightning, our heroine turns into an elf and cruises through a mushroom wonderland under the glow of an aurora borealis-style blanket of colors across the sky. Reflective of her personality, it pops off as her biggest and boldest video to date. Of the inspiration behind the video, BENEE says, “I knew I wanted the vid to be a weird fantasy story involving snails! I said to Anita that I wanted to be an elf with long braids riding a bike and have giant mushrooms somewhere in the vid...She came back with the treatment, and I loved ittttttt! Her imagination is supa whacky in the best way, and I’m so happy with how ‘Snail’ turned out!”

Bebe Rexha has returned with her new anthem 'Baby, I'm Jealous', which features Doja Cat. 'Baby, I'm Jealous' is Bebe Rexha's first single of 2020, following on from last year's Maleficent: Mistress of Evil track 'You Can't Stop The Girl'. The new track marks the debut collaboration between Bebe Rexha and Doja Cat, and is accompanied by a Hannah Lux Davis-directed visual that stars Charli D’Amelio, Nikita Dragun, and Avani Gregg. Bebe Rexha says the new single is "about embracing my insecurities", and adds, "It’s about the way social media has heightened my jealousy which can affect how I feel about myself. We are constantly flooded with the highlights of other people’s lives, and at times I find myself comparing my worth and beauty to others. It’s part of the human process to experience jealousy - ultimately, this is an anthem to embrace those feelings as a form of empowerment." [via Line Of Best Fit]

Making her grand return to the scene with a striking new single is Brighton-hailed singer Fable, with her new tune 'Thirsty'. With otherworldly tones and harmonising vocals, the singer serves us with a sumptuous genre-bending tune that has us headbanging at every chorus. Known for her bold and atmospheric sonics, the singer accompanies the song with an attention-grabbing video with juxtaposing images of ethereal nature and mental destruction. Speaking on the single, the singer said, “'Thirsty' is about taking the beauty of life for granted. How overtime we write off profound stuff as mundane because it’s a constant; the sky’s always there, but it’s weird and beautiful that we even exist under it. It’s playful at heart but it’s about my realised depression and learning how to reset my perspective through mindfulness,” Having disappeared from the scene back in 2016 due to a personal tragedy, the singer has reconnected to her artistic side and is ready to step back into the spotlight. [via Wonderland]

With the enticing line-up of Joe Lonie (Supergroove), Milan Borich (Pluto), Jol Mulholland (The Reduction Agents) and Morgan Leary (Cindy), Tāmaki Makaurau supergroup Kathy Bates Motel share their latest ear worm 'Cool Your Heels'. The class act's second single, following up debut track 'Damaged Goods', is dangerously catchy, with killer harmonies from vocalists Lonie and Leary. 'Cool Your Heels' will have you moving your feet and hankering for a dance, a need so perfectly met by the Footloose inspired, Joe Lonie directed visuals. Everybody cut foot loose, the weekend and 'Cool Your Heels' have arrived. [via Under The Radar]

Up-and-comers Wargasm recently dropped their fifth single, ‘Backyard Bastards’, and now they’ve released a video to go with it. Shot and edited by Olli Appleyard, the video sees sees Sam Matlock (guitar, vocals) hunting down Ryan Cornall (session drummer) on a manic murder spree that finds its peak in an epic showdown between the two, all the while being cheered on by Milkie Way (bass, vocals) and her dancer squad. You can check out the video for ‘Backyard Bastards’ above. [via Dead Press]

Atlanta-based glam punk rockers Starbenders have released an energetic and evocative music video for their new single 'Can’t Cheat Time' off most recent album Love Potions. 'Can’t Cheat Time' is available now as part of a bundle featuring the original single and an acoustic version. 'Can’t Cheat Time' perfectly pairs frontwoman Kimi Shelter‘s incredible vocal shapeshifting abilities with electrocuted guitars and heart-pounding rhythm for this stand out rock ‘n’ roll anthem. Speaking to the inspiration for the single’s music video, Shelter adds: “‘Can’t Cheat Time’ is a personal favorite amongst the band. This single has a wicked string arrangement reminiscent of Jeff Lynne from ELO’s production style. It was so rewarding hearing all of it come together with the live string players. The accompanying music video is a love letter to the mom and pop businesses that have shaped and supported our very existence. These businesses along with the touring industry have been devastated by the pandemic. We filmed in locations around Atlanta which include the local greasy spoon diner, the record shop, the independent guitar store, the watering hole, and the divey small music venue. While mega-retailers did not close down for even one day, 60% of small to medium-sized businesses in the USA that closed will never reopen. These places are vital to the social and economic health of our cities. We encourage our friends to go to saveourstages.com. Sign up to push legislators to help independent venues though the updated Heroes Act. So many are hurting and on the verge of financial ruin from lighting to sound engineers, musicians, DJs, security, bar staff and venue operators. Our hearts are with you all.“ [via The Girls At The Rock Show]

[vanillacoolatta]

silk, blushing, journal!

silk -- right now my playlist is Bang! by AJR, The Man / This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things / Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift, you should see me in a crown / bad guy / COPYCAT by Billie Eilish, and The Louvre / Sober II (Melodrama) / Homemade Dynamite by Lorde. i love all of these songs fisjjfjd

blushing -- another person who i think is totally rad is the kind of person who respects boundaries without having to be asked. they suggest and remind people of self care but understand that sometimes a brain can be hard to control and is respectful when someone mentions that. it's really nice to not have to explain myself every 4 seconds since they recognize that no, i don't actively choose to stay up all night and yes, i am aware of my own self and am capable of coming up with some coping mechanisms. of course, some people need a heavier hand when it comes to helping with mental health, but i really appreciate that they don't try to push that on everyone while still being able to remind me to take care of myself :)

journal -- my second answer is this:

in a nicer-than-reality world, absolutely! sometimes I dream about it lol. if not considering the difficulty associated with any coloring, i'd either go for a cool grey/silver or a red/purple so dark it looks black in low light. i especially love the idea of silver though, even if it might not look great on me.

[songisforyou]

Now We Sit in Your Car, and Our Love Is a Ghost (5/8)

I keep playing on repeat / the same set of memories / I’m in the passenger seat / and you are there next to me. 

The first boy I date is one I learn to care for on a twenty-four hour drive to Colorado, and on seven-hour drives to and from Kentucky. I don’t think I am ever in love with him, but I learn to love asking him questions in the bubble of the front seat, the night flashing by outside. Inside that bubble, there are no secrets, nothing is too stupid to say, everything we say is full of meaning, and I get to choose the music for hours on end.

I like the way the hours slip away when they’re ours / and I like the way the highway waves goodbye behind the car.

I remember the boy distinctly drenched in the gold of sunrise on the drive back, crossing state after state until the sunrise becomes a sunset and we finally find home in the middle of the night. I sit next to him, trying to memorize his profile, wondering if he sees me the way I see him: beautiful. Wondering if he sees me the way I see him: in great detail, observing the angle of his wrist, one hand holding the bottom of the steering wheel, the way he sings along quietly when I pick the right song. 

I know you like wide open spaces / and long horizon lines. / The sun sets in the rearview mirror, we’re / almost out of time. 

I write songs about him. They are songs about cars, about sitting next to the driver. Of course Lorde, too, falls in love in a car, and the car serves as the vehicle to convey her love story. 

The journey starts in Pure Heroine. In Pure Heroine, “400 Lux,” Lorde sings, “you pick me up and take me home again / head out the window again,” and the chorus calls to mind endless cookie-cutter blocks passing by in the suburbs, the roads “where the houses don’t change / where we can talk like there’s something to say.” She captures the magic of feeling important, of how the car can turn the trivial into the essential, the mundane into the meaningful, providing the closest thing to freedom that she can find in suburbia. 

The final track of the album, “A World Alone,” opens “That slow-burn wait while it gets dark / bruising the sun. / I feel grown-up with you in your car. / I know it’s dumb.”  I think of this stanza all the time. I play it on almost every car ride when the sunset begins giving way to dusk. The sentiment is the same as in “400 Lux,” where the car becomes a place where we are important. We can fall in love because we can talk to each other here, and in this car, we inhabit a world alone. Maybe it’s stupid. It’s almost unbearably tender, the simple music behind the words, the lone notes, the space around them, the gradient of soft color against the car, the lump in my throat. Maybe I look back one day and think that the things I said were trivial, not as profound as I thought, that I was just a kid—but it doesn’t matter. In those moments, we believe in what we say to each other. We hear each other.  

Lorde doesn’t have a driver’s license (to this day). Like me, she is always in the passenger seat, never alone, never an independent traveler, always existing in relation. In his car, she must have felt like an adult. I wonder if she wanted to reach over the seat and touch his face, if she kept looking at him when he was looking at the road, drinking him in, waiting for his eyes to flicker toward her and back to the street, if she sang harmony along with the radio and wondered if he thought her voice was pretty (it’s unconventional, a low, alto growl, but it becomes addictive, works its way into the heart of the listener)—if she did all the same things I did, craved the same things I craved, worried, like I worried, that she was making too much of these moments. Is it stupid?

In Melodrama, we hear the aftereffects of the love, the memory of it. The two songs that mention his car are “Hard Feelings” and “Supercut,” a song about the end and a song about remembering the beginning after the end has come.  

In the first, she writes “now we sit in your car / and our love is a ghost.” I swallow these words on long car rides with my ex, when we are in the same group for weekend climbing trips. In the second, the ghost is explored. A supercut is a montage, and Lorde’s is one that cuts together “all the magic we gave off / All the love we had and lost.” In her head, the same moments replay — “In your car, the radio up / In your car, the radio up.” The line repeats itself like the memories, abruptly cutting back, somewhere between supercut and short-circuit. “We keep trying to talk about us / I’m someone you maybe might love.” The song calls back to “400 Lux” and “A World Alone,” a beautiful representation of the way we remember our relationships, our habit of recalling the best parts, of getting lost in nostalgia, finding ourselves wrapped up by the ribbons that tie us to the people we loved.

The love is remembered in one car; the post-breakup recovery in another. “Liability,” one of the most vulnerable, heart-wrenching songs on Melodrama, expresses Lorde’s attempt to come to terms with her breakup, opening with “Baby really hurt me / crying in the taxi / he don’t want to know me.” She is no longer welcome in his car. He doesn’t want to know her (“he,” not “you,” a far cry from the intimacy they shared). Instead, we imagine, he has put her in a cab. A stranger drives her home. Similarly, the entire album begins with “I do my makeup in / Somebody else’s car. / We order different drinks / At the same bar.” We know from this line that she is going to the same place as he is, but she can’t go there with him. She has to take someone else’s car. To begin the album this way is to emphasize the excruciating awareness Lorde has of their parallel paths and the distance between them.

The recovery, in the end, requires finding a new way to move through the world. “I ride the subway, read the signs,” she sings in the second verse of “Writer in the Dark.” In real life, while writing the album, she “took lots of subway rides, auditioning rough mixes of songs on cheap earbuds, which helped give her a sense of how the music would sound in daily life.” The subway is independent, solitary. It enables her to focus on her work. It doesn’t require her to dedicate her attention to the person next to her, the way conversation in the car does. It might be something like her new life, the one where she faces thousands of strangers every night instead of facing the specific person she once loved from the passenger seat. On the subway, in the stadium, she is always on display yet perhaps often unseen, unknown. She has emerged from the privacy of a love affair (in his car) and the privacy of her own heartbreak (in another car) into the individual-yet-communal and decidedly-unromantic experience of public transit. Perhaps it reminds the girl she used to be, when she wrote, “we ride the bus with our knees pulled in” (“Buzzcut Season”) or “we count our dollars on the train to the party” (“Team”), before the complications of the relationship took over. But perhaps it is different — now, there is no mention of anyone else with her. The independence is more complete, if bittersweet.  

I take the train from school back to my city. I’ve never driven anywhere alone, since I didn’t get my driver’s licence until a week before I returned to school for senior year, where I don’t have a car. Sometimes I remember the bubble of my ex-boyfriend’s car, but I also think of the way I can put in my headphones on the train and just sit with my own thoughts. It’s a lonely release, a haunted freedom.

[neongodtheymade]

I was tagged by the lovely @mabelmcbae (Thank you!!!)

Rules: Answer 17 questions about yourself then tag 17 people (do I know 17 people?)

Nickname: A LOT! El or my family calls me Ellie sometimes. Elsie sometimes (because teachers used to always read Elsie on the first day instead of Elise). I had a ballet teacher once who didn’t know my real name because she always called me Renoir (I looked like a Renoir painting??)

Zodiac sign: Aquarius

Height: 4′11″ (rip)

Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw

Last Thing I Googled: I don’t know because I use incognito mode, but probably searching for a song I vaguely remember the lyrics to but cannot for the life of me find (I did not find it)

Song Stuck in My Head: Lovesick by Banks and the whole Dua Lipa album (Love Again in particular- reminds me of ABBA)

Following and Followers: 266 and like 160 followers on this blog. 

Amount of Sleep I Get: probably 8 hours, but my sleep schedule is really erratic so who knows.

Lucky numbers:  3

Dream job: Part-time novel writer who has time to bake bread and sit on my cottage porch enjoying a cup of tea and also has time to do work with organizations I’m passionate about.

Wearing: currently pajamas, but normally, a dress is my go-to. Not a fan of pants.

Favorite songs: (I have too many) April Come She Will by Simon and Garfunkel, Fine Line by Harry Styles, Tiny Dancer by Elton John, Mystified by Fleetwood Mac, Sober II (Melodrama) by Lorde, Dark Paradise by Lana del Rey, Learn to Let Go by Kesha, Queen of Peace by Florence and the Machine, I Know a Place by Muna, Liquid Smooth by Mitski, Contaminated by Banks, June Gloom by Allie X, The Stranger by Billy Joel, People’s Parties by Joni Mitchell, Out of the Woods by Taylor Swift, and a bunch of others I won’t bore you with.

Instruments: 12 years of piano lessons. Haven’t played in a while though. 

Random facts: I like the color pink, I’m a triplet, I’m addicted to music (CANNOT sit in the silence oops). Have a degree in political science (international relations).

Aesthetic: the most graceful clutz you’ve ever met. A chaotic Aquarius, but doing my best.

I’ll tag (feel free to ignore it): @professional-nuisance (you probably won’t see this but... still), @honeyncherryvol6 @britishsixtiesbeat @littlemiss3ma @adultinginrealtime @harryandgerard @aquarianharrie @heart-attack-harry @binineties @pinkcanyons @emmadangerheart @maurice-and-music @wildbap28 @erodasharry @witchyartemis @iimdestinyfreereally

[golden-deer-dear]

An Inch to the Left

Summary: "So the Fell Star consumes even the darkness itself."

But what if it didn't? What if it was the other way around?

Notes:  A concept idea I wanted to explore. Used it to also explore some writing style choices. Let me know if you guys think it works or not.

Read on AO3.

An Inch to the Left

She reached out her hand, Sothis' own fingertips brushing against her own. There was so much light, golden and divine, swirling around like a storm. And yet, her heart was calm. This was a fate she could accept, a power that would allow her to protect the ones she loved. Sothis would still be with her, and her power would-

Byleth's thoughts cut off violently as a look of terror crossed over Sothis' face. Tendrils of darkness curled around them, swallowing that golden light. Byleth lurched forward, trying to grab for the goddess, but the darkness was so quick. She could feel it inside her, coursing through her soul like a poison. She could not breathe. She couldn't breathe! Sothis!

She could still feel the goddess, felt her power fully enter her. But where before Sothis had felt like the warm embrace of a parent, now she was cold. Byleth felt like a snake had curled itself around her, and as it squeezed and crushed her ribs, it dove dagger long fangs into the back of her neck, pumping that foul toxin into everything that made her her. 

Give in, it whispered, a malicious mirth accompanying the non existent voice.

"Never!" Byleth shouted to the darkness. She struggled, trying desperately to release herself from the snake. There, deep within her very core, she could still feel Sothis' warmth. If she could just reach it. 

You will not prevail. Why fight it? The power it offers is so much more than what you receive from the pitiful goddess. The voice said put so much spite into the last word Byleth actually felt ill just hearing it. 

She continued to struggle, trying to shut out the voice, but the snake held her tight. It seemed the more she resisted the harder the snake squeezed. And that warmth was fading. Sothis, please don't leave me.

She will not leave you, the voice told her, invading her thoughts. Not even we could separate your souls now that they have joined. But she has already given in. Can't you feel it? Can't you sense her will weakening?

"No!" She had wanted to scream, to rage against the monster, but her voice came out as nothing more than a choked sob. 

But it was true. The voice did not lie. The warmth was almost completely gone now. Sothis had given Byleth her power, but the darkness had corrupted that gift before it could be fully given. Sothis had lost hope. 

The warmth disappeared, extinguished like the last gasp of a dying candle.

Byleth fell limp in the snake's grasp. Darkness washed over her. It was cold, so very cold.

Perhaps she could convince Dimitri to lend her his cloak when she got back. 

/

Dimitri's grip tightened around his spear, quickly forcing himself to relax again before his unnatural strength broke the wooden shaft. 

"Thales! What are you doing here?" Tomas...no, Solon, his real name was Solon, asked. His voice went an octave higher as he addressed the new comer. 

The man reached a hand up to the air in front of him, as if he were about to help a lady down from her carriage. "I am here to greet our newest asset," he said as if he were commenting on the weather, but knew there was a tidal wave about to crash against the shore, and the destruction it would being in its wake would leave him with a great amount of joy. There was something familiar about his voice, something that provoked a primal instinct to fight within Dimitri. 

Before anyone could really process that, the very sky split open, dark smoke pouring from the cut. A hand, small and strong, reached out to take hold of Thales' offered hand. Her hand slid easily into his own.

"No," Dimitri heard himself whisper. He did not feel the word leave him. His soul was divorced from his body, his entire world crashing around him. He knew that hand. It made no sense that she would allow that thing to touch her, let alone accept its offer of help. No sense at all. Something was very wrong. Voices began to echo in his ears, warning him, screaming that their revenge would go unfulfilled if he simply stood there.

But the sight of her froze Dimitri to the ground. Thales pulled Byleth from the wound in the sky, and the sky itself seemed to crash around him. 

Her skin was pale, too pale. He had only seen that coloring before on corpuses. Or on the man and his lackeys that now held Byleth's hand. Her hair had lost all pigment, just as Edelgard's, hanging loose around her shoulders like waves of snow. 

Byleth turned to her students, an unnaturally pleasant smile distorting her lips. His Professor's smiles was rare, given like the most cherished of gifts. It was warm and made him feel light. Dimitri could never not return that smile.

This smile was nothing like that. Dimitri swallowed back against the bile rising in his throat. 

"Oh goddess, her eyes," Annette whispered, voice shaking as badly as her body. 

"I'm gonna be sick." Dimitri thought that was Sylvain, but every ounce of willpower he possessed was currently trying to make sure he did not do that exact thing. 

Byleth's eyes were black, as dark as the trails of smoke still curling out from the slowly closing wound. Red irises, dark as freshly spilled blood, stared back at them all. He could feel those eyes devouring him, wanting to take him in and tear him apart. She was a cat looking forward to playing with cornered mice.

She was disturbing. She was beautiful. She was a nightmare wearing the flesh of the woman who made his heart beat erratically. 

"Thales, what-?" 

Solon was cut off when those terrible eyes turned to him. The smile dropped from her face, and somehow the frown was worse. Dimitri remembered the time Sylvain had snuck in and shifted everything in his room one inch to the left. Looking at Byleth was like that, only amplified. There was something changed about her, more than the physical aspects, something that just escaped his ability to define. 

Byleth turned to Thales, and he raised his eyebrows. Some sort of silent exchange took place between them, for a moment later Thales sighed with more than a little melodrama. 

"Very well," he said, relenting to whatever unspoken request Byleth had made. His tone made Dimitri think Thales was not all to concerned with whatever was about to happen, and was simply putting on a show. That thought was helped along when Thales raised Byleth's hand to his lips, giving her the courteously of a proper lord to a lady. "If it will make you happy."

Thales let go of Byleth's hand and stepped back. Byleth wasted no time, hand going to her sword as she took a step toward Solon.

"Thales! You can't-" But Solon did not finish. With one brutal strike Byleth separated his head from his shoulders. It hit the ground with a sickening splat, and bounced across the grass, resting someplace out of sight. 

Byleth gave Solon's body a swift kick just for good measure. A flick of her wrist sent blood flying from the tip of the Sword of the Creator. The light around it was black instead of the usual red glow associated with a relic, and black lightning cracked in the hole where the missing crest stone should have occupied. Whatever they had done to her, Byleth's crest was just as twisted as the rest of her. 

And then her attention was on them again, that smile back in place. Every instinct in Dimitri's body told him to run, every dead voice urged him away from the oncoming fray, but he stood frozen. It was mostly fear, but there was a part of him that felt he would be abandoning her if he left now. He only thought to bring up his spear at the last moment.

Byleth stopped, tilting her head at his defensive stance. Dimitri had barely any time to react. With an almost lazy swing of her sword, his lance was in two pieces, droplets of blood falling from his right hand where the blade had grazed him. He had been very lucky. 

No. That was not it.

When he looked into those dark eyes, he understood. She had done it on purpose. If he fought her now, she would destroy him. There was nothing holding her back now. No morality, no compassion. Nothing.

Byleth stepped into his space before he could bring his hands up to attempt another defense. Her hand caressed his cheek in a mockery of a loving motion. It was like a winter's wind had slapped him, and he flinched away. Byleth grabbed his chin and forced him to look her in the eye.

He saw it then, what he could become. He saw the pure savagery with which he could destroy his foes, the delight he would receive as he ripped them limb from limb and their blood stained his hands. Consumed by revenge he set upon a bloody path, leaving the world to burn and walking a path stained red. 

That monster was familiar. He had stepped into those shoes before, worn that tormented skin. Every time he did, it was harder to pull himself back, harder to deny what the dead demanded he become for their sake. It was sickening. It was exhilarating. 

If he accepted her now there would be no going back. Dimitri would lose himself to the darkness completely, with no guarantee for a path back into the light. He would have the power to exact his revenge, but it would cost him everything.

Those eyes told him he would not be alone. Byleth would be by his side, tearing the world apart right alongside him. They would bow to her as she destroyed everything they cared for. And she would go unchallenged if Dimitri was her sword. He would strike such fear into their hearts that no one would dare to defy her.

"No!" he shouted. He threw his head back, Byleth's nails tearing into his chin. The gashes she left behind were cold, his blood clinging to his chin like ice. 

He fought to gain control of his breathing, feeling as if he had to remind his lungs they had to draw in air. Byleth simply stared at him, and for a moment she looked like the mercenary he first met, before she had shown any sign she was capable of emotion. 

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, Dedue, reminding him the world was more than just the two of them. The rest of the Blue Lions all had weapons ready, but none seemed willing to use them. Whatever she may have become, she was still their Professor. She was the woman that had made them strong, the very heart of their dysfunctional little family. 

But Byleth paid them no mind. She reached for him again, and Dimitri visibly flinched away from that unnaturally pale skin. Byleth paused, and for a moment she seemed hurt. 

"Professor? Please…" He trailed off, not knowing what else to say. 

Byleth, however, took his words as an invite. She grasped the fabric of his cloak at his shoulder and yanked. Dimitri stumbled forward, hearing the fabric tear. The clasp he used to secure his cloak fell to the grass broken and useless. 

Dimitri stared in disbelief as Byleth wrapped the material around her shoulders. A look of relief washed over her face as she curled into its warmth. She flashed him that stomach churning smirk, and turned away. 

Turned back to Thales, who once more held a hand out for her to take. It was not right how naturally Byleth's own hand slid into Thales grasp, how comfortable and content she looked being led away by him. 

"Professor!" Dimitri cried out, starting forward. He could not let her leave. Something told him that if he let her leave, she would be truly lost to them. Lost to him. He screamed, the very core of him open and raw at the thought of losing her. "Byleth!"

She looked back over her shoulder, blinking in surprise. And she smiled. The one that made him blush. The one he wished to see upon her face every day for the rest of their lives.

A flash of dark light engulfed her. 

Thales' triumphant smirk was the last thing Dimitri saw before the world broke apart. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I probably won't write anymore for this idea. I'm not sure where I'd go with it, nor do I really relish having to work through just how dark it would get. But it was a fun little snippet to explore.

[thesinglesjukebox]

POST MALONE X SWAE LEE - SUNFLOWER

[5.56]

With great Swae Lee comes great Post Malone?

Joshua Copperman: First off, can we just acknowledge how good Into The Spider-Verse looks? Not just in the literal sense, but in the way it looks to incorporate Phil Lord and Chris Miller's meta tendencies into a genuinely compelling story. I hope it doesn't turn out like Post Malone's music, where the lushness gives otherwise banal sentiments the illusion of grandeur. An ideal soundtrack for Spider-Verse should be as colorful as the movie looks, and even the lyric video deserves a better, more relevant soundtrack. Considering what's happened to the live-action Peter Parker, even "Ashes" would be more appropriate. But that lyric video is effective, doing its best to lend weight to an unremarkable, weirdly arrogant song ("you'd be left in the dust unless I stuck by you"). The movie's likely going to be great on the visuals alone, but concerning the soundtrack, for now I don't feel so good. [5]

Juan F. Carruyo: It's a soundtrack song, so it's appropriately cinematic. Cavernous boom-boom clap drums follow deep synth bass tones and an air of menace. Though it's Post Malone who's ostensibly bringing them sweet sweet monetized clicks; in practice, his gravely voice emoting corny lyrics about being a sunflower is just very off-putting. So, it's a minute and a half of pleasing melodies sang by Swae Lee before it crumbles down. [5]

John Seroff: Live long enough and you'll hear all the radio stars of your youth gently rinsed and recycled into audio pablum echoing down the grocery store aisles. For a generation that may not have longevity as an option, this Post/Swae collabo helpfully offers prewashed pop, elevator-friendly out of the wrapper. [5]

Iris Xie: Both Post Malone and Swae Lee's delivery takes sweet lyrics and makes them sound labored and tired. What gives? I understand they're trying to do a floaty, sweet summer vibe, but I just get the feeling of two men who are trying to woo another girl for the hundredth time, without really self-reflecting on what they are doing. It makes such nice platitudes sound generic, and leaves me cold. [1]

Jonathan Bradley: I'm reminded of a certain mode of 1990s alternative rock, a style that had expanded its stylistic outlook so far beyond the rudiments of guitar music that its connection to generic tradition was its mulish white masculinity rather than its sound. "Sunflower" made me think of the spacey anomie of Filter's "Take a Picture," but it fits into the late-rock pluralism of everything from Crazy Town to OPM to 311 to Primitive Radio Gods. "You mightn't like Post Malone," an old friend told me when we were catching up for the first time in a few years and comparing notes on contemporary sounds, "but you remember his choruses." Then he hummed a couple hooks from Beerbongs & Bentleys, an album I've heard once, and I realized how right he was. [6]

Julian Axelrod: I've finally figured it out: If we want to make Post Malone tolerable, we just need to slowly inch him as far away from rap as possible. This is the most engaging and sincere Post has sounded in a while, and it's on a song that's closer to Drive-era synth pop than rap. Swae Lee's presence helps a lot; he's a similarly feelings-first wailer who twists every bar into a hook, and he's innately charming enough to sell "She wanna ride me like a cruise" as a Hallmark sentiment. But their combined charisma is a bright new coat of paint on the conflicted devotion that pervades most love songs in rap today. It's an asshole aria, it's the dirtbag blues, it's "Islands in the Stream" for guys who sell whippits at house parties. And it's way better than the phrase "Post Malone and Swae Lee present a song from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse" has any right to be. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Post Malone and Swae Lee use this Spider-Man soundtrack opportunity to take on the superhero role in a relationship. Is this codependency or men just being snotty? Either way, things seem awry, so the two deliver sweet melodies to keep things at bay. In the moment this is soothing, if fleeting; keep it on repeat and you'll be convinced to stay. [6]

Alfred Soto: Swae's bray (brae?) increases in volume as his swinish admissions get more pronounced ("Or you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya"), while Post Malone puts his gravel to empathetic use. They don't cancel each out so much as act as amiable mirrors -- they could easily have switched places and no one would've noticed. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: You can always count on the lead single from a Spider-Man movie soundtrack to provide a quick-and-dirty snapshot of the musical landscape. In 2002 we got post-9/11 post-grunge; in 2004 it was post-Unplugged Dashboard; in 2007, post-Coldplay melodrama; and in 2014 it was an unholy amalgam of misapplied talent and wasted money, just like the film it was made for. Now it's 2018 and Sony/Columbia have enlisted Post Malone and Swae Lee, two of-the-moment sing-rappers with whom Miles Morales would undoubtedly be familiar. The track is clearly inspired by emo rap, but in Dashboard terms, it's more "Hands Down" than "Screaming Infidelities"; the hazy atmosphere and ornamental guitar plucking are no much for the earnestly romantic, if lyrically ambivalent chorus. It's for this reason that Post Malone, despite his "Rockstar" pedigree, is outshone almost completely by Swae Lee, whose melodic tendencies are more suited for earnest romance. Aware of his own limitations, Swae uses his singing voice with strategic aplomb, strictly regimenting his phrases so they pierce like beacons through the fog. It helps that he still sounds much younger than his 24 years, which results in the typical rap lyric "she wanna ride me like a cruise" being transformed into a singular projection of both innocence and precocity. This frank mention of sex makes his decision to self-censor by saying "bad bad" even less explicable, and thus more charming. More than anything else, "Sunflower" sounds like adolescence, an achievement that largely exonerates its underdeveloped view of women on grounds of verisimilitude. Teenage boys are perpetually unsure of themselves and act tough or spiteful in order to mask their vulnerabilities: nothing new under the sun. What songs like "Sunflower" offer them is a recognition of shared suffering and a chance to embrace their vulnerabilities -- a permission slip to feel unguarded feelings for a few minutes. As long as there are boys and girls in America having sad times together, there will be a need for these songs. [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[postmoderns]

do you know any films that evoke the same feeling as melodrama by lorde ?

i thought i was just gonna make a list but i got so carried away thank you for this i did not know this was something i could not shut the fuck up about. these are the films that make me unashamed to feel and love too much, which is the biggest mood i get from melodrama: experiencing life more vividly in heartbreak and self-discovery. 

Green Light- In The Mood For Love (2000) Dir. Wong Kar Wai

For me this song is about being unable to move on. knowing that you need to move on, but that fantasy of love and “what if” pains you. This is why I feel like this song could be sung by either of the main characters in wong kar wai’s in the mood for love. theyre lonely, finding codependence and company when they find out their spouses are cheating on them with each other. they act out a fantasy where they play each other’s spouses, acting out scenes and trying to figure out where it went wrong. and unknowingly, they fall in love. but what is real and what is theater? Its one of my favorite films of all time. and the amazing cinematography and vivid colors feel incredibly Melodrama. They can only speak in code. It’s sultry and missed connections and unrequited love. its the definition of this album i think.

Sober- The Doom Generation (1995) Dir. Gregg Araki 

Jack and Jill got fucked up and possessive/ When they get dark… All the gun fights/ And the lime lights/ And the holy sick divine nights/ They’ll talk about us, all the lovers/ How we kiss and kill each other… alright gregg araki is a strange shock value experience and this is definitely his most heterosexual film but who does teenage wasteland better than him honestly. sex, violence, whatever. three teenagers. theyre driving. they keep accidentally killing people. they make out. people die. but its not your average transgressive film i dont think. (disclaimer i dont watch a ton of them so i could be wrong) 

Homemade Dynamite- American Honey (2016) Dir. Andrea Arnold 

Our rules, our dreams, we’re blind/ Blowing shit up with homemade d-d-d-dynamite/ Our friends, our drinks, we get inspired… If you haven’t seen this already, its about a group of young people with nowhere to go and their camaraderie, and their survival despite people who have hurt them. living unapologetically despite (something) is what i think this song is.

The Louvre- Heartbeats (2010) Dir. Xavier Dolan 

I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush/ Drink up your movements, still I can’t get enough/Blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you… these are stories about desire and longing for someone unattainable. and being unable to stop wanting because its addictive. its about a two friends who fall for the same guy and both pursue him to the detriment of their friendship. xavier dolan does the pop music slow-motion painfully alone mood well. Its also about being unashamed of how much love you feel i think. 

Liability- Moonlight (2016) Dir. Barry Jenkins

They say, “You’re a little much for me/ You’re a liability/ You’re a little much for me”… Moonlight is so many things but a big part of Chiron’s character and life is how his past has made him who he is, and how he becomes reserved to the people around him as a result. i guess thats how he copes with coming of age, retreating inside himself with quiet strength. that movie wrecked me ive only seen it once and im scared to see it again. its perfect. 

Hard Feelings/Loveless- 35 Shots of Rum (2008) Dir. Claire Denis

I’m at Jungle City, it’s late and this song is for you.. God, I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home… I’ll start letting go of little things ‘til I’m so far away from you.. So this film is about people just living their lives. its quietly brilliant and very claire denis. paris at night. people dealing with any and all kinds of loss and living their lives so close to each other. The sounds especially at the end of this song remind me of train tunnels, turns, braking. shes a widowed conductor. the idea is that shes always moving and running away but not quite. but life quietly goes on. 

Writer In The Dark- Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) Dir. Michel Gondry

I am my mother’s child, I’ll love you 'til my breathing stops/ I’ll love you 'til you call the cops on me/ But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power/ I’ll find a way to be without you, babe… so in this film, theyre forced to be without each other. not only that but to wipe their minds of their lover completely, afraid of how much love affects them. i think once this film is done with you and youve cried your eyes out you get that same resolution: that this thing or person that you once thought you needed in order to live, you can find some way to continue without it. and if its fading, to enjoy it in the present, or, whatever feels like the present. 

Supercut- Lady Bird (2017) Dir. Greta Gerwig

Cause in my head, in my head, I do everything right/ When you call I’ll forgive and not fight/ All the moments I play in the dark/ Wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart… lady bird is told like a dream, the way the scenes blend together like memory. the whole thing feels like its fleeting. in lady bird’s head, this is right. no matter what happens or who she accidentally hurts or what her future is, its going to be okay. This is a song about homecoming i think. not to a place or a person but to yourself and the memories of a love once had- and to cherish those memories, come home to my heart

Perfect Places- Daisies (1966) Dir. Vera Chytilova

All the nights spent off our faces/ Trying to find these perfect places/ What the fuck are perfect places anyway?.. This is a film simply about two teenage girls who desire and consume, unashamed. Its wild and sporadic and playful in style and makes very little sense but its so fun. I think its the movie playing in the head of the speaker of the song. shes ashamed but she doesnt want to be. the perfect place is one where she will be unashamed. 

[thelankyrandman-blog]

Full Album-A-Day List in Alphabetical Order: 2017

Full Album-A-Day List in Alphabetical Order: 2017

Alright, it’s been too long since the end of the year, but here my list of albums I listened to in 2017. There are 365 albums here in alphabetical order by artist and then by release date in each artist. I am repeating the challenge for 2018 and so far I’ve listened to 62 albums. Let me know what you guys think of this list and please check out some of the music on here. Some of my favorite albums ever are on this thing.

A:

Actress - AZD

Alvvays - Alvvays

Alvvays - Antisocialites

Aminé - Good For You

America - America

Anderson .Paak - Malibu

Andy Shauf - The Bearer of Bad News

Andy Shauf - The Party

Angel Olsen - Half Way Home

Angel Olsen - Burn Your Fire For No Witness

Angel Olsen - My Woman

Angel Olsen - Phases

Animal Collective - Marriweather Post Pavilion

Arcade Fire - Everything Now

Ariel Pink - Pom Pom

Atmosphere - Fishing Blues

The Avalanches - Since I Left You

B:

BADBADNOTGOOD - BBNG

Band of Horses - Cease to Begin

Beach House - Depression Cherry

Ben Folds - Songs for Silverman

Berhana - Berhana EP

Blank Banshee - Mega

Big L - Lifestylez ov da Poor & Dangerous

Big L - The Big Picture

Big Sean & Metro Boomin - Double or Nothing

Big Thief - Masterpiece

Big Thief - Capacity

Bob Dylan - Empire Burlesque

Boogie Down Productions - Criminal Minded

Booker T. & The M.G.’s - Green Onions

Brockhampton - SATURATION

Brockhampton - SATURATION II

Brockhampton - SATURATION III

C:

Capital STEEZ - AmeriKKKan Korruption

Car Seat Headrest - Teens of Denial

Carly Rae Jepsen - E•MO•TION

Chance the Rapper - 10 Day

Chance the Rapper - Acid Rap

Chance the Rapper - Coloring Book

Charles Mingus - Mingus Ah Um

Charli XCX - Pop 2

Charlotte Gainsbourg - Rest

Chet Baker - She Was Too Good To Me

Childish Gambino - Because the Internet

Childish Gambino - Awaken, My Love

City and Colour - If I Should Go Before You

Clarence Clarity - No Now

Clipping. - Splendor & Misery

Connan Mockasin - Forever Dolphin Love

Connan Mockasin - Caramel

Crosby, Stills, & Nash - Crosby, Stills, & Nash

Crywank - Tomorrow is Nearly Yesterday and Everyday is Stupid

D:

Daniel Caesar - Freudian

Danny Brown - The Hybrid

Danny Brown - XXX

Danny Brown - Old

Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition

Dave Brubeck - Time Out

David Bowie - Hunky Dory

David Bowie - The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and The Spiders From Mars

David Bowie - Aladdin Sane

Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlanticism

Death Cab for Cutie - Narrow Stairs

Death Grips - Exmilitary

Death Grips - The Money Store

Death Grips - No Love Deep Web

Death Grips - Government Plates

Death Grips - Fashion Week

Death Grips - The Powers That B

Death Grips - Interview 2016 EP

Death Grips - Bottomless Pit

Deerhoof - The Man, The King and The Girl

Deerhoof - The Runners Four

Deerhoof - The Magic

Deerhoof - Mountain Moves

Deerhunter - Halcyon Digest

Denzel Curry - Nostalgic 64

Denzel Curry - Imperial

DeYarmond Edison - Silent Signs

Dirty Projectors - The Glad Fact

Dirty Projectors - Bitte Orca

Dirty Projectors - Swing Lo Magellan

Dirty Projectors - Dirty Projectors

E:

Earl Sweatshirt - Earl

Earl Sweatshirt - Doris

Earl Sweatshirt - I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside

Elucid - Valley of Grace

Eric Clapton - Eric Clapton

Everything Everything - Get to Heaven

F:

Fantastic Negrito - The Last Days of Oakland

Father John Misty - Fear Fun

Father John Misty - I Love You, Honeybear

Father John Misty - Pure Comedy

Feist - Let It Die

Feist - The Reminder

Feist - Metals

Feist - Pleasure

Fever Ray - Plunge

FKA Twigs - LP1

Fleet Foxes - Sun Giant EP

Fleet Foxes - Fleet Foxes

Fleet Foxes - Helplessness Blues

Fleet Foxes - Crack-Up

Flying Lotus - 1984

Flying Lotus - Cosmogramma

Frank Ocean - Nostalgia, Ultra

Frank Ocean - channel Orange

Frank Ocean - Blonde

Freddie Gibbs - Shadow of a Doubt

Freddie Gibbs - You Only Live 2wice

Freddie Gibbs & Madlib - Piñata

G:

Ghost Ship Octavius - Ghost Ship Octavius

Girlpool - Powerplant

Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven

Greta Van Fleet - Black Smoke Rising EP

Grizzly Bear - Horn of Plenty

Grizzly Bear - Yellow House

Grizzly Bear - Friend EP

Grizzly Bear - Veckatimest

Grizzly Bear - Shields

Grizzly Bear - Painted Ruins

H:

Harry Styles - Harry Styles

Huncho Jack - Huncho Jack, Jack Huncho

Hurray For The Riff Raff - The Navigator

I:

Ibibio Sound Machine - Uyai

Ice Cube - AmeriKKKa’s Most Wanted

Ice Cube - Death Certificate

IDK - IWASVERYBAD

Interpol - Turn on the Bright Lights

Isaiah Rashad - Cilvia Demo EP

Isaiah Rashad - The Sun’s Tirade

J:

J Dilla - Donuts

J. Cole - 2014 Forest Hills Drive

J. Cole - 4 Your Eyes Only

Jaden Smith - SYRE

Japanese Breakfast - Soft Sounds From Another Planet

Jay Som - Everybody Works

Jlin - Black Origami

Joey Bada$$ - 1999

Joey Bada$$ - B4.Da.$$

Joey Bada$$ - All-AmeriKKKan Badass

John Coltrane - A Love Supreme

Joni Mitchell - Ladies of the Canyon

Joni Mitchell - Blue

Joni Mitchell - Court and Spark

Joni Mitchell - The Hissing of Summer Lawns

Julien Baker - Turn Out The Lights

K:

Ka - The Knight’s Gamble

Ka - Honor Killed the Samurai

Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith - The Kid

Kamaiyah - A Good Night in the Ghetto

Kamaiyah - Before I Wake

Kamasi Washington - The Epic

Karriem Riggins - Alone Together

Kaytranada - 99.9%

Kelela - Take Me Apart

Kendrick Lamar - Section.80

Kendrick Lamar - Good Kid, m.A.A.d City

Kendrick Lamar - To Pimp a Butterfly

Kendrick Lamar - untitled unmastered.

Kendrick Lamar - DAMN.

Kesha - Rainbows

Killer Mike - R.A.P. Music

King Krule - 6 Feet Beneath the Moon

King Krule - The OOZ

L:

LCD Soundsystem - LCD Soundsystem

LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver

LCD Soundsystem - This is Happening

LCD Soundsystem - american dream

Lil Pump - Lil Pump

Local Natives - Gorilla Manor

The Long Winters - Putting the Days to Bed

Lorde - Pure Heroine

Lorde - Melodrama

Lou Reed - Lou Reed

Lou Reed - Transformer

M:

Mac DeMarco - Salad Days

Mac DeMarco - This Old Dog

Madlib - Shades of Blue: Madlib Invades Blue Note

Madvillain - Madvillainy

Marvin Gaye - What's Going On?

Matmos - The Marriage of True Minds

Melvins - Eggnog EP

Melvins - Lice All EP

MF Doom - Operation Doomsday

MF Doom - Metal Fingers Presents: Special Herbs, Vol. 1 & 2

MF Doom - Mm.. Food

MGMT - Oracular Spectacular

Mick Jenkins - The Water[s]

The Microphones - Don’t Wake Me Up

The Microphones - It Was Hot, We Stayed in the Water

The Microphones - The Glow Pt. 2

The Microphones - Mount Eerie

Miles Davis - Porgy & Bess

Miles Davis - Kind of Blue

Miles Davis - Bitches Brew

Moses Sumney - Aromanticism

Mount Eerie - “No Flashlight” Songs of the Fulfilled Night

Mount Eerie - Lost Wisdom

Mount Eerie - Dawn

Mount Eerie - Wind’s Poem

Mount Eerie - Clear Moon

Mount Eerie - Ocean Roar

Mount Eerie - Sauna

Mount Eerie - A Crow Looked At Me

Mount Kimbie - Crooks & Lovers

Mount Kimbie - Cold Spring Fault Less Youth

Mount Kimbie - Love What Survives

The Mountain Goats - Goths

M83. - Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts

N:

NAO - So Good EP

NAO - For All We Know

Nas - Illmatic

The National - The National

The National - Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers

The National - Alligator

The National - Boxer

The National - High Violet

The National - Trouble Will Find Me

The National - Sleep Well Beast

Neon Indian - Psychic Chasms

Neon Indian - Era Extraña

Neon Indian - VEGA INTL. Night School

Neutral Milk Hotel - Everything Is EP

Neutral Milk Hotel - On Avery Island

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

New Order - Power, Corruption & Lies

Nick Murphy - Missing Link EP

Noname - Telefone

Notorious B.I.G. - Life After Death

O:

Oddisee - The Iceberg

Open Mike Eagle - Brick Body Kids Still Daydream

P:

The Pablo Collective - The Death of Pablo

Paramore - After Laughter

Perfume Genius - Put Your Back N 2 It

Perfume Genius - Too Bright

Perfume Genius - No Shape

Phoenix - Ti Amo

Phosphorescent - Muchacho

Pixies - Bossanova

Playboi Carti - Playboi Carti

Portishead - Dummy

The Postal Service - Give Up

Princess Nokia - 1992 Deluxe

Q:

Quelle Chris - Being You is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often

Quasimoto - The Unseen

R:

Radiohead - Pablo Honey

Radiohead - The Bends

Radiohead - Kid A

Radiohead - Amnesiac

Radiohead - Hail to the Thief

Radiohead - In Rainbows

Radiohead - The King of Limbs

Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool

Rapsody - Laila’s Wisdom

Ratt - Out of the Cellar

Red House Painters - Down Colorful Hill

Richard Dawson - Peasant

Rogue Wave - Out of the Shadow

Run the Jewels - RTJ3

S:

Sampha - Process

(Sandy) Alex G - Beach Music

(Sandy) Alex G - Rocket

SBTRKT - SBTRKT

SBTRKT - Wonder Where We Land

ScHoolboy Q - Oxymoron

ScHoolboy Q - Blank Face LP

Shabazz Palaces - Black Up

Shabazz Palaces - Lese Majesty

Shabazz Palaces - Quazars: Born on a Gangster Star

Shapes & Colors - Love / Sex / War EP

The Shelters - The Shelters

The Shouting Matches - Grownass Man

Slint - Spiderland

Smino - blkswn

Snakadaktal - Sleep in the Water

Soft Cell - Non-Stop Erotic Cabaret

Solange - A Seat at The Table

Sorority Noise - You’re Not As ___ As You Think

Spoon - Hot Thoughts

Squarepusher - Feed Me Weird Things

Squarepusher - Music is Rotted One Note

Squarepusher - Go Plastic

Squarepusher - Do You Know Squarepusher?

St. Vincent - Marry Me

St. Vincent - Actor

St. Vincent - Strange Mercy

St. Vincent - St. Vincent

St. Vincent - MASSEDUCTION

Stan Getz & Cher Baker - Stan Meets Chet

Substantial - The Past is Always Present in The Future

Sufjan Stevens - Michigan

Sufjan Stevens - Seven Swans

Sufjan Stevens - Illinois

Sufjan Stevens - Carrie & Lowell

Syd - Fin

SZA - Z

SZA - Ctrl

T:

The Tallest Man on Earth - Shallow Grave

The Tallest Man on Earth - The Wild Hunt

The Tallest Man on Earth - There’s No Leaving Now

The Tallest Man on Earth - Dark Bird is Home

Temple of the Dog - Temple of the Dog

This is the Kit - Where it Lives

This is the Kit - Bashed Out

This is the Kit - Moonshine Freeze

Thom Yorke - The Eraser

Thundercat - The Golden Age of Apocalypse

Thundercat - Drunk

Todd Terje - It’s Album Time

Tonedeff - Polymer

Travis Scott - Rodeo

A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory

A Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders

A Tribe Called Quest - We got it from Here... Thank You 4 Your Service

Tycho - Past Is Prologue

Tycho - Dive

Tycho - Awake

Tycho - Epoch

Tyler, The Creator - Bastard

Tyler, The Creator - Goblin

Tyler, The Creator - Wolf

Tyler, The Creator - Cherry Bomb

Tyler, The Creator - Flower Boy

U:

Unknown Mortal Orchestra - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

V:

Vagabon - Infinite Worlds

Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend

Vampire Weekend - Contra

Vampire Weekend - Modern Vampires of the City

Van Morrison - Astral Weeks

Vince Staples - Hell Can Wait EP

Vince Staples - Summertime ’06

Vince Staples - Prima Donna EP

Vince Staples - Big Fish Theory

Volcano Choir - Unmap

Volcano Choir - Repave

W:

The War on Drugs - Wagonwheel Blues

The War on Drugs - Future Weather EP

The War on Drugs - Slave Ambient

The War on Drugs - Lost in the Dream

The War on Drugs - A Deeper Understanding

Warren G - Regulate… G Funk Era

Wavves - You’re Welcome

We Made God - It’s Getting Colder

The Weeknd - Beauty Behind the Madness

WIFE - What’s Between

Wiley - Godfather

Wolf Parade - Wolf Parade EP

Wolf Parade - Apologies to the Queen Mary

Wolf Parade - At Mount Zoomer

Wolf Parade - Expo 86

X:

X - Los Angeles

Xiu Xiu - Forget

The xx - Coexist

The xx - I See You

Y:

Yes - Close to the Edge

YG - Still Brazy

Young Pappy - 2 Cups Part 2 of Everything

Young Thug - Beautiful Thugger Girls

Young Thug & Carnage - Young Martha

Your Old Droog - Packs

Z:

Zola Jesus - Stridulum

Zola Jesus - Okovi

#’s:

21 Savage, Offset & Metro Boomin - Without Warning