#ABBA save me....

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

"Chiquitita" by ABBA is so Jacques and Josée to me

Specifically, Jacques singing to his best friend in the whole world to cheer her up when he knows something's troubling her

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the fabulous @cordiallyfuturedwight and @jimin-gaon <33 here's the december list

apologies for being late again new year same me: @aprylynn @jiminsproof @pauls-mccharmly @thvinyl @visionsofgideontheninth @btsbs @kimchokejin @jihopesjoint @eoieopda @monismochi 💜 and anyone else who feels so inclined MWAH p.s. please do tag me anyway if you've already done it

[zappedbyzabka]

[ponytailzuko]

i think abba is somehow going to end up on my spotify wrapped i literally never listen to abba. what happened.

[pendragora]

help, @barbieaemond is breaking my tumblr app with the crispy quality of her new gifset

[stood-onthecliffside]

dont go wasting your emotion... lay all your love on me!!! dont GO sharing your devotion

[sobbing-space-trash]

I can't stop thinking about what a banger ABBA's S.O.S. is

[son-n-heir-of-nothing]

This week's lokius song

Lay all your love on me - Abba

I can't stop thinking about this song, it just had that retro appeal that works for the vibe of the TVA and honestly, it can be seen through both perspectives (although I see it more through Loki's perspective).

Abba 🤝 lokius

[catra-writes]

Dancing Free

When Elina was a kid she loved to dance. She always wanted to be moving about and active like people she saw around her. Dancing was so fun. But she got tired quicker than most kids, she could remember demanding one of her parents pick her up after playing because she'd gotten ticketed out and felt sore. 

Growing up that only got worse. She started feeling worse and worse, her limbs aching, her exhaustion being constant, and worst of all the throbbing headaches that followed after the striking pain in her back. 

It started with too much movement on her body, then gradually became every time she woke up and when to be to persisting throughout the day.

Her energy became far too low to keep up dancing when she felt like it. She stopped feeling the joy that she used to express through dance, the bubbly sensation that dancing gave her causing her to genuinely smile.

It didn't seem like anyone noticed. How she feel into sorrow as her mobility lessened, how the pain made her want to rest and eventually even stopped eating. She hated it, she was alone and isolated and she couldn't feel anything other than numb or the debilitating pain in her body and she hated it.

Music was her escape. She found songs that she related to, song that reminded her of the feeling of free movement, songs that helped her feel at all. Music was almost all she had to pull her through the storm life had tossed her into.

Elina felt like life had punished her simply just for existing ever since she was a kid. The world around her blamed her for how her body was failing her. 

"You're so lazy, just get up and move" "it can't be that bad" "you're fine, it's all in your head" "guess that's your fault for not exercising." "You can do it stop making up excuses" "have you even tried?" "Have you tried just doing it"

Berating, nagging, useless suggestions, blaming...so many repeated and rephrased words nailing home the idea that it was her fault, that she was never going to amount to anything more, that she was a burden, not trying hard enough. 

She'd push herself far past her limits, her body screaming warning after warning until she would collapse and break down almost every night, sometimes even in the morning. 

It hurt. Her body, no one there to tell her it was okay, even her own parents having times of not believing her and telling her to keep pushing herself. It all hurt. She hated it so much, nothing felt worth it, not even relationships. Why would it be worth the effort if they were just going to tell her the same thing she'd always heard?

Maybe they were right. Could they be? She'd always tried so hard, and when she finally gave herself breaks she'd fall behind. Maybe she was the problem, or maybe she just was meant for this world.

Dancing was the farthest thing from her mind for a long time...until it wasn't.

With the right song, the right motivation, she'd push herself back onto her feet. Even if it was just for her, her alone in her room with a single song playing again and again, she took a step.

One step led to another, and very quickly she found her rhythm again, dancing in time with the song. Dancing away the stress and the worries and the voices. Each step more liberating than the last, she found the feeling she'd been missing.

She didn't care if her legs were going to give out on her after the song, she didn't care if people were going to scoff at her for being tired again, she didn't care. Not right now.

Right now, Elina was dancing. Dancing joyfully, dancing energetically, a dancing queen all in her own right, dancing free.

[rialitysworld]

my best friend just now: pls i need help with the our pride playlist, we have missed something, give me some queer bangers

me, immediately: anything by abba

[westurn]

listening to this fleetwood mac/abba playlist and it's just hit after hit after hit

[avid-idiot]

YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN, YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY 17!!!

[nerendus]

Nothings more embarrassing than having a good four year track record and being able to confidently label your deep dive into depression as having just been a Phase and now having to immediately nose dive back into relapse as an adult. This sucks, I should be able to refund this product (my brain) with God and get a proper one installed.

[exquisitelyeco]

Back to the dirt pile

Have you noticed, when the shit hits the fan we tend to go back to the dirt pile? All the bad habits/addictions we thought we had left behind grab our focus so we no longer have to face the current crisis of faith. The shiny wooden floor cracks, And I fall, Back down into addiction, Running so hard, trying to avoid You. Convinced you hate me, it’s to late, I see you, But I cannot. Dare…

[r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e]

idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

[thekissofaphrodite]

Angel Eyes

Luke Castellan X Daughter of Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Look into his angel eyes, You'll think you're in paradise, and one day, you'll find out he wears a disguise. Don't look too deep into those angel eyes.

Warnings: Explicit scenes *smirks*, angst (Remind me if I missed one!)

Author's note: I was listening to ABBA and realized that Angel Eyes describes Luke PERFECTLY. When Yk yk.

——

You laid on top of Luke's bare chest, still panting heavily, He pressed his nose to your hair and inhaled your scent. His muscular arms wrapped around your breasts.

"Do you love me?"

Luke immediately laughed, His throat bobbing as his laughter echoed through his empty cabin.

"Is that even a question? Of course I do, " He said, His eyes looking deeply at yours, carefully analyzing your reaction.

You didn't answer. Instead, you got up and pulled his blanket to cover your bare chest while trying to search for your clothes.

Luke immediately sensed something was wrong, He sat up and leaned against the headboard, Carefully watching you as you put on your pink bra.

"You're Upset" He said.

"Am I?" You asked sarcastically, You remembered the prophecy perfectly.

Someone who you deeply love lies, manipulating one until your own eyes sees the bright blue skies.

Someone you deeply love.

The oracle felt like it was pointing at Luke, the love of your life. The one who saved you when you were a mess. The one who kissed you every night, The one who wiped your tears when you were crying. The one who held your hand when you were scared.

It's impossible.

He wouldn't do that.

Not Him.

Not Luke.

As soon as you're fully clothed. You looked into his eyes, Searching for any signs of betrayal you might suffer, But instead, He winked and kissed your cheeks before you left.

——

He betrayed you, He really did.

He wasn't Luke anymore, He was now Kronos.

You laid beneath the road. The sun hitting your face as you stared at skies, Rethinking your choices.

You're fatally wounded after ethan nakamura shot you with a deadly arrow, The poison spread slowly inside your body, making you weak. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you thought his name all over again.

Luke Luke Luke Luke Luke

As if tho his name was a prayer, You were dying. You were about to lose a life, A life you had future plans, a life that you deeply deserve.

Then, You saw someone towering over you, It was Luke, with a scythe in hand, His scar was still on his face, Ever so beautiful. You tried to say his name but was greeted with a pool of blood choking you as soon as you opened your mouth.

"Shh...There there now..." Luke, Or should I say Kronos caressed your hair as you started gasping for hair, Indicating that the poison had spread now.

"Sleep well darling" He whispered as he planted a kiss on your forehead.

You then closed your eyes and stopped struggling, You were now free, The last thing you saw was the blue skies and Luke's angel eyes as Thanatos' silhouette appeared behind you.

A/N: THE BETRAYAL?!?!? I HAVEN'T READ THE BOOKS BUT I KNEW LUKE WAS A TRAITOR. HOW DID I DO?! IM NOT GOOD AT ANGST SO PLEASE FORGIVE ME IF THIS IS A SHORT ONE 😔😔