#also: spending no money on the cap and gown (and all the other trappings of graduation)

[equalseleventhirds]

with my graduation approaching, more and more ppl are learning that i'm gonna graduate and then asking if i'm gonna walk, and then, upon learning i will not, asking why.

and i was contemplating reasons but u kno what it boils down to?

there won't even be free food.

do u expect that i, very nearly 32 years old and terrified of my future, will actively wish to pay for a cap and gown, leave my house and go all the way to the graduation venue, sit through long speeches about the future and what it means to become an adult, and then have to join a long line of ppl walking across a stage to shake some guy's hand,

when there won't even be free food?

c'mon.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Graduation Days

Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word Count: 2886

Author’s Note: So this one goes out to my buddy @hotstuffhargrove, feel better dearie! Enjoy some Billy!

Tag List (If you’d like to join the party, message me!!): @steveharringtonofficial @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @flamehairedwritings @serpentsdacre

Feedback Appreciated 

Billy Hargrove didn’t do emotions. He didn’t do feelings or lovey dovey shit. He was plain about everything, blunt and straightforward to the point of insulting. The first time he told you that he loved you was just as he was dropping you off from school and you nearly keeled over, struck by how simple he made the whole experience. It just wasn’t a big deal to him; he felt it so he said it. In fact, it was so little of a deal to him that when you freaked out he was more confused than upset, watching you with a curious smirk as your sputtered a response, eyebrows quirked to almost challenge you to respond more awkwardly.

Yeah, he was that cocky.

But you’d come to expect it by now, the way he loved to make you blush and embarrass you cheekily. Billy was the purest essence of a tease. And you were sure for the longest time that he was only interested in a fling with you. You weren’t necessarily crying over only being a fling, sure you really liked him, but you knew that begging for more or forcing yourself onto him would scare him off. Guys like Billy had to be lured out slowly, and you knew better than anyone else that he wouldn’t make any moves to get closer if you were forcing him to. So you let him come out of his shell slowly.

It took almost a year. Billy had arrived in the fall of 1985 in a wave of smoke and rock n’ roll, but by the spring of 1986 it was apparent that he wasn’t graduating with the rest of his class. This was, of course, a complete disgrace to Neil Hargrove, who beat the shit out of him after seeing his report card. But, unlike every other time Neil had gone after his son, Billy actually came to you. He let you press ice to his bruises and wipe the crusted blood from his upper lip, pressing frothy kisses over his face, trying to sooth his furrowed brow and clenched jaw.

After that you were Billy’s girl, officially, his hand firmly locked into the back pocket of your daisy dukes, a smile on your lips as you sipped slushies and soaked in the sun, convincing him to go after a job in the auto shop in town, assuring him that the more money he had, the faster he could get out of Hawkins. You also managed to keep him from dropping out of high school, promising him that his life would be better with the degree under his belt and that you’d be with him the whole time. He only submitted because he could watch you better if he was at school with you, scaring off the endless boys Billy thought were after you.

And despite his arch rival Steve Harrington returning to Hawkins High with you, having also screwed up his senior year, Billy managed to finish the year with little to no incident. He only got in a few fights, most of them broken up quickly, picked up the slack on his grades, if only out of pure spite, and even managed to not completely destroy his stepsister’s life.

Everything was coming up Billy Hargrove. Even despite his father’s terrible treatment of, the rest of his life was turning out well. He was the happiest he could be beyond California. You promised that once he got out of Hawkins, his life would be perfect. You never mentioned going with him, not trying to freak him out with such a heavy level of commitment, but you hoped that he’d want you to.

As graduation edged closer and closer, the nervous knot in your stomach got tighter and tighter, threatening to snap and leave you a depressed pile of mush. You didn’t mention it to Billy, which was killing you inside, but you felt yourself pulling away slightly, scared of getting hurt. Billy didn’t really notice his mind in a sort of tunnel vision over getting to your graduation. He had enough money saved up to make the drive back to California and to his Aunt Sherrie’s house where he could hide out until he got his own place and started his fall semester at the University of San Francisco, his basketball scholarship a source of pride for his entire second semester. You’d applied there too, having gotten into their design program, but you’d glossed over it when going over your choices for university, trying not to draw attention to it. Of course, Billy noticed and he couldn’t deny that he was a little excited by the prospect of the pair of you living together and going to the same university.

The rush through to graduation was a rush of exams and social events-the final basketball games of the season, prom, the last big bash of the year, this time thrown by Wendy Carmichael, and a myriad of other blimps on the radar of their social lives. All throughout you tried to smile as best as you could-squeezing him tight when he shot the winning goal at a the last game of the season, gritting your teeth in tight smiles as your mother snapped photos of you two before heading to prom for fifteen minutes before bailing, spending late nights in bedrooms trying to go over exam prep without Billy getting distracted. Everything was running so quickly and you were losing steam fast.

It all came to a head one night after an exam. You’d gone for a drive with Billy late that night to calm his nerves before the next day’s test, rubbing small reassuring circles on his palm, watching the world go by painfully slowly. In that moment, everything was safe and calm and normal; you felt like you could breathe again.

“You picked a university yet?” Billy asked softly, leaning his head on your shoulder.

You shrugged softly “No, not yet. I’ll probably leave it till the last minute and panic about it.” You replied easily, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. You hadn’t told him that you’d already made your choice based on whether or not you were going with Billy.

“Where’d you get into again?” he asked, lifting his head slightly to look at you.

“NYU, the University of Indiana, Berkley, and the University of San Francisco.” You listed softly.

“And which ones were the definite ‘no’s?”

“University of Indiana isn’t offering me a scholarship and would keep me in this shithole, so they’re out. I haven’t decided either way on Berkley-they’re offering me a scholarship but it’s tiny and living in Berkley’s expensive.” You explained.

“I thought University of San Fran wasn’t offering you a scholarship either?” Billy questioned, watching you closely.

You looked away, heat rising to your cheeks “They aren’t…but the program’s good and it would get me out of here, so I’m keeping it on the list.” You said your voice higher than usual, embarrassed and awkward.

“NYU would do the same and they’re offering you tons of money, go there.” You snapped around to look at him, eyes wide with shock and confusion.

“Really? You think that’s a better option?” you asked, looking at him with any signs of regret in his words.

Billy shrugged “I think the best option is whatever you want. It’s your life.” He said “It’s getting late, we should go back.”

The conversation had gone absolutely nowhere. Billy had only brought up universities to gage what you were doing and had learned absolutely nothing. He wanted you to go with him, honestly he did, but he couldn’t ask you to. He just couldn’t. You deserved the best in life and he wasn’t sure that he could ever give you that. So he bit his tongue and did his best to let you go.

When he parked in your driveway, you climbed out quickly, throwing your bag on your shoulder. You leaned down into the car, taking a big breath before speaking “Hey Billy?” you whispered. Billy nodded gruffly, not looking at you. “I…I want to go with you, to San Francisco, but I’m not gonna go unless you want me there. Say the word, and I’ll go. But if you don’t, then I’ll get out of your hair.”

You watched him for a second, the way his knuckles had gone white from his grip on the wheel, how his jaw ticked and tightened, how his eyes were locked so hard onto the eaves trough wrapping around your house that you swore it was going to break off from his sheer force of will. You waited just a moment longer and when he still didn’t respond, you gently shut the door and walked up to your front door, holding your head high as tears welled in your eyes, your lower lip quivering. You’d put yourself out there and got your heart shattered. Just like you thought would happen.

You and Billy didn’t talk much after that. Sure, he checked in with you after your much dreaded calculus exam and you went to his house to drop off his graduation cap and gown, but that was about it. You’d filled out your acceptance papers for NYU but you could bear to send it off, a shred of hope still screaming from your heart, pleading with you for just a few days more.

When your graduation day came around, you weren’t excited. Not by a long shot. As you out on the nice white dress your mother had bought for you and the tiny gold heels you’d worn to prom, you felt like you were lying to yourself. As you painted thin layers of blushy makeup on your face, you felt like you were putting on secure, positive mask, false and tacky against your bare skin. The cheap polyester blue cap and gown felt itchy on your skin, as though everything around you was begging you to take off all your trappings and lie back down on your bed and cry. Your heart was broken in so many ways you couldn’t bear to explain.

But you didn’t give in. You forced a smile and went downstairs, taking photos with your siblings and mother, who sobbed the whole time. You took the awkward car trip to your high school with your parents, you took your seat on a plastic folding chair on the field, smiling politely as Carol cried into your shoulder, whining about how it was all over, slightly casting confused out looks to Nancy, the only other person who truly knew the weird situation you were in with Carol and Tommy H. You felt yourself looking around for Billy and when you saw him, you hardly recognized him.

He looked thoroughly uncomfortable, his father’s hand roughly slapping his shoulders proudly, the graduation robe too short on his giant frame, exposing the pressed black dress pants Susan had clearly insisted on him wearing. You caught his eye for a second, sending him a half-hearted smile, which he matched. You reached into your purse and handed Carol the tiny package of tissues your mother had insisted that you’d need. But unlike Carol, you weren’t upset to be leaving Hawkins behind; you were upset that Billy might be leaving you behind.

The ceremony was an agonizing blur. All you could remember was the moment you’d stepped onto the makeshift stage, hearing the endless cheers of the yearbook committee and your family, waving and taking pictures. It wasn’t unlike you left the stage when you heard a familiar cheer.

“That’s my girl!” Billy whooped from his seat, jumping to his feet with his fist shooting into the air. You laughed, matching his pose, pumping your fist into the air with your certificate in hand, jumping slightly. You bounced back to your seat, a genuine smile on your face. Despite it all, Billy could still make you smile.

When you were finally allowed to get up to leave, a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you off in the throes of giggling, crying girls. Carol just had to make sure that everyone said goodbye to you, sending mincing words of backhanded kindness your way and forcing parents to take photos of you all. When you finally were able to escape, you were immediately taken away again by Nancy Wheeler, insisting that you take a few photos with you and promising to write each other when you were gone, Nancy heading to New York University with Jonathan Byers on her arm.

By the time you made it back to your family, you looked a lot worse for wear, your hair going frizzy from the late June heat and your body sweaty from the constant hugs. Your parents were more than ready to leave, having snapped more than enough photos of you under the balloon arch and with your certificate and friends. You’d assured them that you were ready to go too, your feet getting tired from having to pull your heels out of the dirt at every step. You told your parents that you’d meet them at the car, having one last thing to do before leaving.

You had to say goodbye to Billy.

He’d been caught up with his basketball team, even managing to congratulate Steve on graduating, slapping him roughly on the shoulders and chuckling darkly when he stumbled forward. He hadn’t made it back to his father and Susan when you tapped him on the shoulder lightly, smiling up at him. “Congrats, Billy.” You said softly, a nervous look in your eye. Billy’s whole face broke into a grin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you into him, kissing you roughly. You knew that it was all a show for his friends, reminding them that he was still the alpha male, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t over the moon to have him so close to you. His teammates laughed, whistling wolfishly at the show, not that Billy seemed to mind, smirking into your lips.

When he finally let you go, he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you out of the crowd, his hand wrapped tightly around yours, warm and callused and big in yours. Away from the prying eyes of his friends and his family, Billy’s act dropped instantly, his confident demeanour dropping into a level of shy awkwardness you hadn’t seen in him since you started dating.

“Hey…” he said, the brightness of his face dropping into a lopsided grin, not letting go of your hand.

“Hey.” You replied, matching his tone, your thumb running softly over his, the feeling second nature to you.

“So I…” he reached his free hand into the pocket of his pants, digging around for something “Here.” He grabbed your free hand and shoved a tiny object into your palm. You waited until he moved his hand, revealing the silver dangly earring he wore every day, the arrowhead the swung near his jaw flashing in the sun. Your eyes widened at the sight and you quickly let go of his hand, reaching up to brush the curls hanging near his face behind his ear, revealing the matching earring.

“What if you lose it?” you whispered, your fingers lifting the charm into the light, running your thumb over it.

“I don’t care about the earring; I just don’t want to lose you.” Billy replied, his voice too smooth and easy, the words simple and plain. A blush spread across your face, you dropped your hand from his ear and your chin, looking down at the dirt, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear and replacing your boring stud earring with Billy’s earring, the unfamiliar weight on your earlobe surprising you. You lifted your head again, smiling at the boy in front of you, who nodded in approval.

“So, I was thinking about what you said and…I want you to come with me. If you want to. I mean I don’t want to force you to go with me if you don’t want to go to the university but-” Billy rambled, eyes darting around his surrounding, too nervous to look at you. For the first time in your relationship, you were seeing Billy get flustered, tongue tied over his own words.

You pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him with a smirk, watching a pink blush form on his cheeks, the tables turning. “Of course I’ll come with you, I would’ve have offered unless I wanted to.” You said, replacing your finger with a gentle kiss against his lips, standing on your tiptoes to meet him.

“Really?” Billy whispered, surprised and happier than he’d ever been before.

“Yeah, I’d go anywhere with you, Billy.” You replied breezily. Billy wrapped his arms around your waist, heaving you into the air and carrying you off as you squealed, gently hitting his back.

“What? You said you’d go anywhere with me, didn’t you?” Billy laughed and you rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, waving awkward as your parents watched the pair of you, laughing at the sight.

You didn’t care though; you would embarrass yourself over and over again just to be with Billy, just to see him smile and laugh like that again.

[virginia-werewoolf]

Hello to all!!! It’s been a crazy few months and I haven’t had the time to really go on Tumblr much less post about everything going on in my life but i am going to today!!

I’m currently finishing up my senior year of high school and lemme tell u - it’s been wild!!! But so fun. This last Relay for Life was probably my favorite one yet & I wish I could just have one more. When I went my freshman & sophomore year I was still so, so shy and only talked to people I already knew. This year, though, I talked to the new speech & debate kids and they were some of the sweetest people I have met in high school!! I always get so nostalgic for speech and debate when I am around the newer kids in the club. I can’t lie - being in that club was the only time throughout my whole high school experience that I felt as though I was a part of something good. I quit because it did stress me out a bit and I wanted to join photography my sophomore year and just always kind of found an excuse not to go back after that (even though I always knew I should’ve). Prom was nice - we ate at the Venetian and danced our lil hearts out at Panis Hall. I felt moderately pretty. I got into an argument with my best friend, Vincent, that night - he’s been a real dick lately & I couldn’t put up w it anymore that night in the Red Rock parking lot!!! I have been holding a few grudges against him since then but this weekend I have gotten some time to think it over for the first time & I think I’ve made my peace with him!! After prom was the Disney trip - which has been a WILD ride for a few months now. There was a lot of fishy business going on w the stuco advisor but finally - LITERALLY 10 MINUTES BEFORE THE BUS LEFT - I got a seat on the bus!!!! I wasn’t ready at all because I didn’t want to pack a bunch & get excited just to end up having to go to math that day - but I had such a good time in my bummy school clothes & 2 best friends!!! Even if I didn’t get to take pictures and we didn’t get to finish exploring California adventure because we were all grumpy and tired. The bus ride with Vincent was so fun and I didn’t really think about all the things I was upset at him for. On the 24th, then, we had grad walk AND senior awards!! I did the travel grad walk with Ni-Ni and we got to go to our elementary and middle schools + pat diskin in our caps and gowns with all the current students lining the halls cheering us on!! It was so pure. The elementary schoolers were so so so cute n proud of us & it was the first time it rly set in that this is happening!!! Plus I saw my 4th grade teacher and she remembered me BY NAME. I foreal cried on the way back to the bus bc of it. Awards night was nice too - I sat next to a kid I hadn’t talked to since middle school but it wasn’t awkward and we made jokes to each other all night!! It was kinda cute. Like it really felt like we were all in this together. I luvvvved cheering on my friends & just other kids in my classes who I may not talk to much but it still feels like we’re on the same boat supporting each other!! I got my Ronald Mcdonald award that night + my hispanic educator award (two scholarships totaling $1500!!!!) I also have to go to a HUGE district wide ceremony & read part of the speech that won me the hispanic educator award the day after graduation!! Yikes but I’m excited. I think that’s basically all the senior events left except maybe the senior bbq??? But that’s not a big deal. I’m not sure if there’s a senior sunset and I know I posted about being upset that I didn’t go to senior sunrise but on the bus ride home from Disney, I woke up for a split second and saw the sunrise over the California desert with my best friend sleepin next to me, his arm latched onto mine & maybe that’s enough.

BUT YEAH. IM FUCKING GRADUATING. My checkout card is signed !! My 7th grade english teacher who i am super close to has her flight booked !!! Can u believe it!!

Work-wise, I was having a really hard time for a while. I was desperately looking for another job & was about to transfer because the theatre made me want to kill myself!!! My exs friends and my managers were talking so so so much shit abt me. They said some of the worst things they couldve possibly said about me - and were so condescending at a time where i was extremely insecure because i was hung up over a boy that treated me like shit & had just lost so many friends. I couldnt even imagine staying until summer - but the universe helped me out and made it so that 2 of my most condescending managers transferred & i stopped getting scheduled so much with my exs friends and things just got… better. I stopped crying everyday - or any day - at work and actually turned down an interview because i figured id just wait until july to look for another job (thats how long im required to stay at my current to qualify for a 10k dollar scholarship i think i have a good shot at getting!!). I dont feel trapped and dread going to work anymore anymore and its so so so relieving. For a second there, it really had such a strong hold on my life and im so glad thats over. It was not healthy at ALL

Driving wise - ive been driving a lil bit a few days a week now and im really enjoying it !! It is not as scary as i thought itd be. I still have a lot to learn but i think im doin pretty good + i have 3k saved up for a car & im so excited !!!

This summer is also gna be super fun - im gna throw so many parties bc all of my bffs are leavin im august for college + spend a week explorin LA w my sister which im so excited abt !!! Im super broke atm bc i had to borrow a bunch of money from my mom for grade nite & am trying to pay it back asap but hopefully any grad money will be enough to cover it so i can buy books n cute knick knacks freely while im on vacay!! Especially since my body decided to hit a second fuckin puberty this winter & none of my summer clothes fit me anymore :( ive been dressing so bummy lately bc of it but ive been too busy to care. I gotta get clothes b4 going to LA tho!!! Other than that though i really just want this summer to be abt me. I feel like even tho i KNOW i need time to myself, i always try to get the most out of literally ANY possible relationship in my life :( its such a bad thing but i hate passing up opportunities like that bc what if, u know? To love and be loved in return is what I always thought i wanted most in this world!!! But i think i just need to consider where situations like this are really going before i compromise the time i set aside to work on myself for it. SO unless i can really see something going somewhere, this summer is goin to be about reading, writing, filming, and taking care of myself !!! I want to eat better (vegetarian & vegan whenever possible!!) and exercise and take care of my skin and just get shit done in general (maybe learn to knit finally???) Im even gonna start a bullet journal!!! I think it will help keep me feelin like myself as well as stay productive & organized in college + its just such a cute hobby Not to mention my sister is ENGAGED?????? My BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!!! I will save the sappy stuff for later posts/my maid of honor speech but she really deserves this more than anyone. It hurts to see her movin out after 18 years of sleepin 10 feet away from her - if it were any earlier than this i wouldnt have been able to handle it - but im excited to be independent & im sure we’ll be sendin each other funny memes and visiting each other 24/7!! She is my best friend after all, and im just so happy to see her happy that i cant even be that sad abt losing our early morning laughs and late night talks - at least not yet!! Maybe it just hasnt set in yet

[thesinglesjukebox]

ARIANA GRANDE - 7 RINGS [4.28] For the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone...

Iris Xie: Ariana, NO. Riding on the rhythms of Black artists like Princess Nokia and 2 Chainz and mixing it with "My Favorite Things": I am astounded at her dismissive fluidity between the verse and the chorus, and her blatant entitlement in the hook, "I want it, I got it." This is not the same way that Beyoncé and other artists have used it; when they say "I want it, I got it," it's not just for the singer, it's representation for all who need to seek power and strength in that message. This is a declaration of privileged entitlement and is only sympathetic to those who need to seek power in not being held accountable, in feigning innocence, in hiding behind privilege to do whatever they want without consequences. Ari's built her empire, and the discarded cores of the songs wrung dry for "7 Rings" is part of the plan for her expansion. The disrespect of Black artists has always been part of the story in popular music (and the world) and is threaded into the very framework and sound of popular music, but it's honestly breathtaking how obvious and easy Ariana is about it. It's brutal, it's self-indulgent, it's disrespectful as fuck, and if she decides to cast herself as Alexander the Great for the "7 Rings" music video, that would just be perfect for this song. [0]

Vikram Joseph: I really thought Ariana might be self-aware enough to understand how downright obnoxious she might come across in releasing a glorified flex about her gigantic wealth, but apparently not. It's brazenly over-the-top ("my receipts be looking like phone numbers") and I hoped, vainly, that it might be satirical -- her own explanation of the backstory behind the song makes it plain that it's not. No right-minded person resents her success, but in this socioeconomic climate -- oh, fuck it, in any socioeconomic climate -- a line like "I see it/I like it/I want it/I got it" is craven and crass. Musically, it's a bland, passable slow-jam, apart from the parts which exhume the decaying corpse of "My Favorite Things," which nobody wanted to see. Ariana Grande has called this a "friendship anthem" (because she bought rings for 6 of her friends), which reveals more about her concept of friendship than she perhaps would have liked. [2]

Alex Clifton: I know Ariana's described "7 Rings" as a friendship anthem, which on the surface is true; it's inspired by a shopping trip where she bought her girls friendship rings. But for a song about friendship, it feels awfully distant. The lovely thing about "Thank U, Next" was that it was personal and empathetic, exes named and thanked with grace in a way we rarely ever see in pop music. Here, friendship seems to be replaced with luxury; her posse feels anonymous, like they could be any girls in the club. The song's an absolute bop, making "My Favourite Things" into something sexier than it should be while also giving Ariana the chance to rap impressively. [7]

Danilo Bortoli: It was not impossible to see this coming. After the song that pretty much defined the social media zeitgeist in all of its lack of glory, comes the contractually-obliged, self-congratulatory victory lap which anticipates an also mandatory album rollout ritual. Meaning: "7 Rings" should be a mere filler. Not only because it sounds like Princess Nokia with less wit and bravado and more privilege, and not only because it evokes mindless "Pretty Boy Swag" comparisons (suggesting Soulja Boy's flow is not in public domain by now). No, "7 Rings" is bad because it strips away Ariana's empathy and replaces it with a bunch of meme-worthy signifiers: Breakfast at Tiifany's, ATM machines, retail therapy, all wrapped under a cold, soulless beat. Yet, given how calculated that beat is, you can tell cold was what she aimed. Sadly. Here, "I want it, I got it" is her mere wish, lacking the wit to make it happen. [3]

Thomas Inskeep: "I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it," Grande sings on this ode to conspicuous consumption, and while I'm happy she's doing well, it's hard to relate when I've been unemployed for almost five months. And the track, based around a chunk of the melody of "My Favorite Things," is nothing special. She's raised expectations for her music, after the quality of last year's Sweetener, so this doesn't cut it on multiple levels. [3]

Julian Axelrod: I hoped "Thank U, Next" would be the Lemonade to Sweetener's Beyonce. Now I'm worried it's Ariana's Reputation. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Viktor & Rolf just released a set of comically expensive reaction GIFs, also known as their Spring/Summer '19 collection. You probably shouldn't continue reading this blurb until you've seen every single one. The dresses themselves are either nightgowns with epaulets or hyper-femme tulle ziggurats, like Mount Everests constructed entirely from bubblegum and Marie Antoinettes. The main details -- if you can really call something a "detail" if it's in huge meme font -- are emblazoned snot-slogans like "I Am My Own Muse" or "No Photos Please" or just "NO." So swamped in fabric, all the models look even more like children than usual, making the collection resemble Abercrombie tees or Nickelodeon tween shows, in all their oversassed questionability. But there's craftiness to the brattiness. Said the Vogue writer, perhaps with a slight whiff of "oh god, I really have to, don't I": "All the assorted typography and graphic design -- the text as well as the eagle head, the skull, the candy hearts, and so forth -- resulted from layers of additional tulle. Trite sentiments backed up by technical prowess." This also describes Ariana Grande's music: tart but frilly, meme-ready but warmly produced. Or rather, it's a description of her music since Sweetener and before this. For all the suffocating memesphere around it, "Thank U, Next" is a fine standalone Mariah Carey pastiche. "7 Rings" is a Gwen Stefani pastiche, primarily of "Wind It Up": garish showtune interpolation, slapdash arrangement, half-assed lyrics (being tied up with cuffs? Weird sex, but OK), and borrowed hip-hop posturing, as if her main takeaway from "Formation" was it being about buying shit. Can you even imagine how bad a fast-fashion version of those gowns would be? You can certainly hear it. [3]

Will Adams: Ariana Grande's post-Sweetener rebranding as an Extremely Online #queen is an instructive, if tiresome, example of how social media has blurred the lines between genuine authenticity and personality as imagined by PR suits. "7 Rings" does the same trick of "Thank U, Next" in that it attempts to reverse engineer memes as desperately as Katy Perry. But while "Next" was at least tuneful, this is a joyless cover of OMG Girlz's "Pretty Girl Bag," no more effective at fostering goodwill than a deluge of tweets that only serve to remind you that you'll never be her. [3]

Maxwell Cavaseno: There was once a time where Ariana singles needn't be based around their ability to serve as content and memes. That time may feel like years behind us but it was quite literally three months ago and yet is titanically irreversible. Now Grande's songs feel less like any real ability to showcase the talents of her singing, just more like suitable IG Story content based on an effervescent bitchiness demonstrated as "#confidence" and beholden to boringly cynical rap cadences. "Spend It" sucked years and years ago as a dead-eyed anthem by a 40-year-old pro making songs for 30-year-olds trying to hang with the 20-year-olds in the club. Distressingly, its progeny in "7 Rings" doesn't sound any less cynical. People can say all the critiques about the Sweetener run they could, but nevertheless that was a period in which you could honestly indicate that Ariana Grande was enjoying herself and doing her best. I'd be hard pressed to find such from material like this. [3]

Nicholas Donohoue: I get in fights over Ariana's message discipline. It is now settled law that "Thank U, Next" is the high point of Ari's career in terms of self-mythologizing, but I couldn't help feeling stung by: i) her releasing the song right before the peak of "Breathin'" (her actual high point of artistic expression), capping herself at the knees by cutting off one great point of personal vulnerability in lieu of addressing her less interesting public persona and, ii) by attaching "Thank U, Next," her tight construction of showcraft and narrative shifting, to a music video Frankenstein-ing four early 2000's movies with distinct tonal and subject conceits together. For as much love as I have for a titan of courage and rolling-with-the-punches like Ariana, I feel she might be careless as to what she transfers into her own sound and image. I don't know what "7 Rings" is suppose to mean. I have confidence this style of more showtune trap is an element of Ariana, but I don't know if it's a wise progression from the tuneful, honest, and numbly reminiscent take in "Thank U, Next". The money and excess politics over a spare beat are confounding mostly due to people loving it because they seem destined to never have it. This isn't even touching the racial critiques that Ariana is strolling where pop-based Black women have had to stomp (re: Rihanna and the word "savage"). Undeniably there is power here for Ariana, but who is meant to benefit from this, including Ariana? [4]

Jonathan Bradley: From the R&B undertones of debut album Yours Truly on, Ariana Grande has been a white pop artist who has attempted to situate her work in a racially liminal space: not black, and not even a pantomimed blackness in the mode of Miley Cyrus's less estimable moments or Iggy Azalea, but one nevertheless imbued with performative and stylistic cues borrowed from that cultural context. It's a position that is complicated by the proficiency of her baby-Mariah vocal, by -- perhaps unconsciously on her part -- the historically contested whiteness of Italian-Americans, by a debut hit that interpolated the Latino rapper Big Pun and featured a guest verse from white rapper Mac Miller, by pop's history of making African American ideas into mass culture, and by Grande's own political advocacy for civil rights causes. And alongside this has been her claim on a decidedly non-liminal gendered space: from pastels and ponytails to short skirts and rom-coms, Grande's image is underlined by stylized femininity. In her post Sweetener singles -- and even on "God is a Woman" -- she has used this to stake out a claim of maturity and independence, and, by extension, a distinctly feminine authority: "Thank U, Next," for instance, was a sugary distancing from the men with whom she'd been associated that asserted self-reliance ("her name is Ari") and professional success ("this song is a smash"). "7 Rings" continues blending girlishness with power, and like Taylor Swift on Reputation, Grande is making herself more untouchable by making her music chillier. She nods at Julie Andrews and Audrey Hepburn from the opening line on, and posits feminine solidarity and capitalist consumption as the enabling force of her dominance. Her flow here has been sourced to everyone from Princess Nokia to 2 Chainz to Soulja Boi, but considering the lyric, the likely inspiration seems to be Beyoncé on "Formation." And that rapping, the trap beat, and the nods to luxury goods combine to form Grande's most overt and most questionable tracing of blackness in her career. Conspicuous consumption in black music is an implicit challenge to systems of wealth that have excluded its makers; in a white context, it's just shopping. Grande's ability to sustain public goodwill in maintaining the tenability of these contradictions seems dependent as much on the sensitivity of her approach as it does on the context of the music. "7 Rings" makes more explicit some of the uncertain contours of Grande's music, but it does not fail: it is delicious in its fluffy imperiousness. [8]

Stephen Eisermann: I said this last year about Drake, but it rings true now about Ariana: it was only a matter of time before things got too problematic to ignore. Someone, somewhere will surely write about the musical blackface (as well as excessive use of bronzer), but focusing on the song alone -- yeah, this is hot. Ariana's coos play well with the trap arrangement and although she may have stolen someone's flow, she sure wears it well. It's a fun song to bop to, and I'm all for a good friendship banger, but ignoring all other circumstances for a banger is just irresponsible at this point. [6]

Crystal Leww: Ariana Grande's always made some incredible music, but the art direction and conversation around her has been subpar, at best, and oftentimes kind of icky! That first album Yours Truly was so beyond in how well it paid homage and tribute to the feeling of the late-'90s/early-'00s R&B pop. But there were accusations of playing into the idea of the Sexy Baby to sell records. A lot of this was super unfair -- Grande was so young at the time and most of this was projection by gross, older men who should have known better -- but this weird dichotomy between Grande as a really excellent musician and Grande as a frustrating image, brand, pop star, object of obsession from stans has persisted. "7 Rings" kind of rules as an actual track; Grande's created a super polished, slick product that pays homage to Soulja Boy flow while borrowing the melody and concept from The Sound of Music. But everything around this track sucks from the continued "borrowing" of Black culture (e.g., 2 Chainz's pink trap house) to use of "Asian" characters and urban culture to the insane defensiveness from Grande stans around all of this. I can't believe that Ariana Grande is going through her Katy Perry phase. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: God, this was a bad idea. Everything here shouldn't work -- the metronomic synths, the unholy fusion of Rodgers & Hammerstein to Soulja Boy, the diving head-on into the murky cultural appropriation accusations that have dogged Ariana for a minute now. And yet despite all of these (entirely self inflicted) problems, Ariana manages to pull together the best possible song given the circumstances. It's still not good, but her sheer force of personality makes "7 Rings" into an object of fascination. [5]

Alfred Soto: It's not any more mediocre than her other mediocre singles, but despite the famous sample and rap cadences she sounds like a person visiting a childhood home she happily left. The home is deluxe but sparely decorated, and the wine good. Guests are welcome, especially Mariah Carey. [5]

Edward Okulicz: I've seen The Sound of Music a number of times that is more than I wish to admit here. Rephrasing the song so it's not about things that are believably in the life of an Austrian nun and instead are about things you'd go buy or consume conspicuously isn't original, though. Big Brovaz did more with this chorus and I think poor-shaming is a PR mistake. [3]

Tobi Tella: Sampling The Sound of Music is an inspired choice, and one that will always get the inner theatre kid on me on a song's side. But the chorus mostly leaves me cold -- it's a fun boast, but there's not much too it and I don't think hip-hop is a particularly good genre for her. When she starts spitting bars during the bridge and saying things like "gimme the loot!" I just get secondhand embarrassment. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The inversion of "My Favorite Things" is sly: there's no admittance of sadness, the things in question aren't quotidian, and Ariana's able to attain everything at a moment's notice. The lay person can't just fly somewhere to witness "raindrops on roses" or "silver-white winters," but everything that Ariana lists is a consumable product that's readily purchasable. Since she was never sad in the first place, there's no actual need for "simply remember[ing]" anything -- she's creating her list of favorites as she has them rung up. As such, "7 Rings" isn't a song about surviving the present, but it does implicitly acknowledge its potential for being unsatisfactory. The cryptic synths and sparse arrangement hint at this sad undertone, but it never quite gets there. And therein lies the song's biggest flaw: the lack of melancholic (sub)text makes this less interesting, and the display of opulence is frequently offset by Ariana's fumbled rapping. There's little resembling actual human emotion or personality here, but given her success with "Thank U, Next" and now this, Ariana is maybe more interested in being a meme. [3]

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