#and Florence herself

[pumpkin--cheesecake]

When Florence Welch said “sometimes I see so much beauty I don’t think that I can cope”

[lesbicosmos]

this will forever be my all time favourite review of florence's music

[staliaqueen]

― Mary Oliver, Thirst

[peter and edmund version]

[riemmetric]

And oh, poor Atlas The world's a beast of a burden

[m-aremagnum]

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Florence Welch reads Wild Geese by Mary Oliver for The Birdsong Project, 2022.

[doom-dreaming]

Cheerful Oblivion

Thought that I was hungry for love… Maybe I was just hungry for blood. **********

I met a woman in a club once. Years ago. Can’t get her out of my head. If I didn’t still have the napkin with her number on it… Well. Would’ve been easy to assume I dreamed the whole thing up.

It was a miserable night to be out. Rain was coming down in buckets, flooding the streets. Could almost hear it over the music, pelting the roof. But there she was. Filling the entire doorway. No coat. No umbrella. Nothing but a black tank top and jeans that looked too tight to be comfortable. Soaked to the bone, dripping wet, faded blue-raspberry-bright hair plastered to her neck. She looked like she’d dragged herself straight out of the ocean. In hindsight, maybe she had.

********** England is only ever gray or green. The girls glitter, Striding glorious and coatless in the rain. I remember falling through these streets, Somewhat out of place, if not for the drunkenness… It makes my chest hurt to think of it, Not of regret, but of missing that… …cheerful oblivion… **********

I remember the way she stood there, caught under spotlight rays of blue and green, the rain on her face sparkling like diamonds… She looked like an angel. Could’ve been. Probably wasn’t. More than likely…something else.

She didn't belong there. In the club. I don’t mean that in a judgmental way. Maybe philosophical. She didn't really seem like she belonged anywhere. But I could see it in her eyes, almost fluorescent blue under the lights. To her, it didn’t matter where she belonged. What mattered was where she wanted to be. And she wanted to be there. In that club. On that night.

I’d never been afraid of being noticed by a beautiful woman. I craved it. Don’t we all? This was different. She was different. Never felt my blood run colder than the second our eyes locked. It felt like being hunted.

********** It was not all pain and pavement slick with rain, And shining under lights from shitty clubs, And doing shitty drugs, And hugging girls that smelled like Britney Spears and…coconuts… **********

She flowed through the crowd like water, parting the proverbial sea, leaving a wake of awestruck stares. If she knew she was the center of attention, she didn’t care. She was a full head taller than anyone else, a titan amongst mere mortals. Muscles rippled when she moved. Wet skin shimmered. I tried not to stare, I really did. Couldn’t help myself. I could’ve watched her for days.

She swept ashore at the bar, smelling like petrichor and oil slicks. Ordered a drink. Smiled down at me, sitting so small a million miles beneath her. There was nothing human about that razor-sharp flash of teeth.

She asked if I wanted another drink. Hadn’t realized I’d finished the one in my hand. I nodded. Couldn’t find my voice. Tab’s on me, she’d said. Not here for long, least I can do. After tonight, you’ll never see me again.

********** And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, You crawled from the sea to break that sailor’s heart. You only get one night upon the shore, So dance like you’ve never danced before. And the dance floor is filling up with blood, But, oh Lord, you’ve never been so in love… **********

I asked her where she was from. She laughed, a harsh bark of a thing that ripped out of her throat like it hurt. Nowhere. I asked for her name. She didn’t answer. But that animal grin flashed back, a bright white scar across her face. For no reason, I thought about moths. And flames.

We stopped talking. Kept drinking. Started dancing. God, the way she moved. Like a machine. Like a predator. Like a ballerina. Equal parts precision, power, beauty.

I couldn’t keep up. She didn’t seem to care. I was a prop. A plaything. An entertaining little toy, something to keep her distracted. From what, I didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. It felt like an honor.

********** And the mermaids they come once a year, They climb the struts of Brighton Pier, They come to drink, they come to dance, To sacrifice a human heart. And the world is so much wilder than you think. You haven’t seen nothin’ ‘til you seen an English girl drink… **********

I do still see her. Sometimes. In my dreams. In those hazy amber-clad memories. It’s hard to know what was real. Don’t know who she was. Or what she was.

Never did call that number. Not sure she’d really wanted me to. Probably for the best. I get the feeling that if we’d been in that club alone together… She would’ve eaten me alive.

And I think I would've let her.

[leavemetoplaythesims]

florence pre meeting felix vs. florence (and fran) post meeting felix.

[konakoro]

Watching the music vid for Kiss with a Fist feels so surreal. Florence is dressed in a quirky alternative outfit popular during the late 00's, her movement is generally subdued, the colors are bright and vibrant, and a weird blank void with scattered furniture or decorations as the setting.

This is NOT ideal Florence Welch enrichment!! She needs flowey outfits, earthy tones, natural or abandoned church/building settings. Let her run around on all fours and gnash at people.

[c0usingreg]

Maybe a hot take but “only love makes you that crazy and that damn stupid” was not about Nancy and Jonathan in that scene. The real reason Jonathan started throwing punches is because Steve started trash talking his family. Like yeah, only love makes you that crazy, but it's his family that Johnathan loves so much, not the girl he started talking to like a week ago.

[things-methinks]

Dog days are over was written for Nadia Vulvokov actually

[theshippirate22]

Aziraphale is so fucking legit. like he just wanted to drive in his boyfriends car and listen to the Danse Macabre on repeat and he’s so real for that. me too, man. you get it

[irulancorrino]

okay but if taylor doesn't let florence fucking welch sing I WILL eat glass

[cactusflowerfemme]

all insane girls are on the same wavelength

[futurewife]

forgive me I am about to do f/o related t*yl*r posting. okay just one post

[druidgroves]

she's been through a lot ok

[themosthatedbeingmoving]

// Lucifer should get to be able to go to a Florence and the machine concert to get some catharsis and help heal his religious /Family trauma .