#and i started thinking about how sad it is that we don’t know the artist

[johnbronze]

ok for real I know they were limited in their options for explaining Stiles’ actions because DOB didnt come back but like SERIOUSLY. I have so many questions and complaints and not even all of them are Stydia related….. spoilers obviously

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Uhhh I can’t figure out how to add a read more on mobile sorry folks hopefully this is a good enough buffer !!!!!

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Did…. Did anyone bother to tell Stiles that Allison is alive?  are we meant to believe that nobody did?? or what’s worse, that he was told and he just didn’t come to Beacon Hills or call or anything?

On that note, are we actually supposed to believe — and I am not a Sterek girlie by any means, love and light to y’all but it’s just not my cup of tea — that Derek fucking DIED and there was a whole ass memorial service that Stiles just didn’t bother to show up to???? HELLO????

I mean it’s also nearing levels of ‘spn finale Dean Winchester ending’ stupid that Derek died in the first place, given that his whooooole character arc (by my book, anyway) is springing from the place of his trauma, and the way that he has blamed himself, struggled with guilt and loneliness and has been atoning for all of the pain of what he perceives to be personal failures the ENTIRE TIME, never letting himself get too close to people, never asking for help, and instead sacrificing for and nurturing Scott as the ideal alpha that he feels he couldn’t be… I don’t know. It just feels like a needless sacrifice to me, like there are so many ways that you can restrain someone and prevent them from moving from the place where you need to. Oh I don’t know burn them alive ?maybe? Which don’t involve sacrificing yourself and burning alive yourself, right in front of your son and the rest of your loved ones. I know again there are production factors at play, maybe it’s likely that they knew damn well Tyler H wouldn’t or couldn’t come back for another movie so they decided to kill off his character?? but suffice to say I was not happy with that at all (and not in the way I think it was INTENDED to upset me.)

Anyway, I know that Stiles needed to be absent because Dylan O’Brien was not a part of this movie, but if I’m being honest, I kind of would rather that Stiles had died ! Obviously I love Stiles’s character and it’s not that I want him dead at all!! it’s just. if they were going to fully send it, and they know he’s not coming back, and they knew that they were going to make up this premonition dream to break up Stydia and (poorly) explain his absence, then it would’ve done a lot better to make that separation as permanent as in life and death. The Stiles we know would never want to be separated from the people he loves as much as he has been now because of all of the external, real life factors. In fact, the season arc with the ghost riders proved to us just how far Stiles can and would go to be present! It was aaaactually a whole thing ! So, if I’m being honest… (1) the way that he and Lydia parted, (2) the way that he isn’t present or even mentioned in the light of his loved ones dying/being resurrected, and (3) again the fact that he wasn’t even at Derek’s memorial … it all feels like a silent character assassination to me. It feels like the mentioning of “Stiles” in this new canon contains less essence of Stiles than it would’ve if he had died. I know it’s easy to have a hater moment and make criticisms and piss and moan about how I would’ve done it better, and I know it’s not always as easy as it sounds… but JESUS CHRIST

Also congrats to the sterek girlies on your own personal y yo a ti moment……that jeep shit was CRAZY







[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco - Epilogue

Dead Disco masterlist Ghost/Soap/female reader The end.

You’re having trouble breathing.

It doesn’t help that you’re hiding in the back, peeking around the corner every so often, trying to interpret everyone’s faces. 

It’s terrifying. You’re terrified. 

“Hello?” Lea calls from the other side of the hallway, hands turned upwards like she’s confused. “What are you doing?” 

“Shhh!” You hiss, grabbing her by the wrist. “I’m hiding.” 

“Okay… why are we hiding?” 

“I can’t go out there.” The denial is steadfast, and she shakes her head. 

“You have to. You’re the artist.”

“I know. And that’s why I can’t go. They’re all… looking at me. Judging me.” 

“They’re appreciating you, love. They’re appreciating your work.” You shiver. It’s not just your work out there. It’s a collection of your pieces, moments and feelings worked out on canvas, agony and elation painted together into something called art. 

“I can’t go out there.” You double down, and she rubs your shoulder sympathetically. 

“You have to.” 

It’s not so bad. You finally appear from the back, and the gallery host introduces you as the artist. Everyone claps. 

As you make your rounds, you start to notice small stickers on the plaques, signifying the sale of a piece, and it warms you, happiness spreading from fingers to toes, fills you with pride.

People stop to talk to you, shake your hand, ask you about certain pieces. You find answering their questions is not as painful as you imagined, and their compliments make you feel lighter. You circle the room, finally coming to a stop in front of the biggest piece in the entire gallery. 

At first glance, you think it’s hard to discern what’s really going on, but the longer you stare at it, the more the puzzle comes together. Or at least, you think so. You’ve been staring at it for four years. 

It’s an expressionist piece, as all your paintings are, but this one is a touch abstract, stroked together in a way that seems almost unintentional. 

It’s a painting of conflicting colors, some dark and moody, others bright. A push, and a pull.  Three bodies lay on a bed, diaphragms torn open and bleeding. They're all reaching into each other's chests, blood coating their arms, curled up so tightly together it’s hard to discern where one ends and the other begins in some strokes. 

There’s no emotion scrawled into their features, nothing to interpret. You did it intentionally, hoping to direct the focus to the piece as a whole. That’s the only way it works. The only way it makes sense. 

“I like this one. It's intriguing. Feels sad, almost.” Someone says behind you, and you turn to see a tall man staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. Studying. “Will you tell me about it?” 

Emotion clogs your throat. Your fingers trace over the plaque bearing its name. 

Darling.

“It’s a love story.” 

The bar stool is one of the spinning ones. 

You keep turning around in it, in circles, laughing as Lea rolls her eyes. “Babe, you’re going to fall.” You tsk. 

“You’re literally no fun.” 

“We’re here celebrating you. I don’t want to be doing that in a hospital when you break a bone falling off that stool.” She tips her head towards the bartender. “Can we get another round please?” 

“Sure thing.” You like this place. It’s got great natural light in the day, big, tall windows and sage green walls, gold accents littered throughout. It feels homey, and sweet. 

“I think that went really well. How do you feel about it?” 

How do you feel. 

“I think so too. Once I got over the nerves I… I thought it was good.” 

“You sold a lot of paintings.” 

“I know.” You laugh. That’s the surprise of the night, if you’re being honest. The number of pieces you sold, to other galleries, to a museum. 

A wild dream turned reality. 

“You’re going to be a big-time fancy painter now, watch.” 

“I’m sure that’s either a long way off, or not going to happen. Either way, I’m really happy. I’m really proud of myself.” The two of you sip your new drinks, and you twist again on the stool. 

“Someone tried to buy Darling.” Lea says gently, eyes soft. 

“I know.” 

“You’re sure you didn’t want to sell it?” You shake your head. It might be your best, biggest piece, but it will never know a home other than yours. You started painting it four years ago, the first night you left her behind, and she’ll never belong to anyone, except you. She’s safe with you, protected by you, loved by you, like she always should have been. 

Like she was, so reverently, by them. 

You didn’t even want to display it tonight, if you’re being honest.  But Lea convinced you, and you found it in yourself to be brave. 

She lets you sit in your silence for a while, which you appreciate. She’s a true friend, one that doesn’t pressure you to do things or say things for the sake of them. 

Usually.

“Well,” she clinks her glass against yours with a mischievous smile and then says much too loudly, loud enough faces and bodies turn towards yours in the bar, “here’s to my favorite painter and her first gallery showing.” Some people clap. Some people cheer. You glare at her. “What? Opposed to free drinks?” You spin on the stool again, smiling, and then catch a flash of someone walking towards a door, muscled shoulders- 

And a mohawk. 

Your heart trips over itself. 

“I’ll be right back.” You tell Lea, who gives you a confused look, but you’re already moving through the room, unsteady on your heels. 

You burst through the door into the cool air, autumn nipping at your exposed skin, and look up and down the street. Your pulse ricochets in your ears. 

They’re a block away. The night is dark, and the streetlights are yellow, but you’d know them anywhere. 

“Hey!” You yell. “Wait!” They turn, and you teeter towards them as fast as you can manage, startling to a stop a few feet before them. 

Your heart hammers inside your chest. Standing here, staring at them, taking them in, soaking in it. They look good. Happy. Healthy. Johnny’s skin is glowing, Simon somehow seems bulkier than he did four years ago, but the weight suits him. 

“Hi.” You breathe. 

“Hi.” Johnny’s eyes sparkle, Simon’s lips turning up in a barely-there smile. 

Words fail you. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to say. Hundreds of thousands of things try to get free, but none of them make it, though your mouth opens. Nothing comes out. 

“We saw yer name on the sign outside the gallery down the street earlier. Congratulations.” 

“Thank you. It was… really neat.” Lame.

“It’s a big accomplishment. You must be very proud.” Johnny’s gaze never leave yours, and you nod. 

“I am.” The three of you stand there, staring at one another. 

“Well, we should get going.” Simon breaks first. 

“Right. Of course. Uh, it was… it was good to see you.” 

“Ye too.” You let them get half a block away, not even. 

You know what you want to say. Delayed, held on your tongue too long in a wash of uncertainty, but it arises clear as day.  

“Wait!” They turn, you take a deep breath. “Would you… would you maybe want to have dinner, or something, sometime? Catch up?” 

“We’d love to.” It feels different now, but the good pieces, albeit changed, shifted, are still there. 

“Great, it’s a… plan. To have dinner. Or something.” Johnny smiles, and Simon nods. 

“It’s a plan. You’ll text us?” 

“Yeah, I will.” 

“See ye soon, then.” 

“Okay. See you soon.” 

[inbarfink]

After all these years, ‘I Remember You’ is still one of the great highlights of Adventure Time Storytelling. And not just in the basic ‘what???? Silly children’s cartoon does something SAD??? HOLY SHIT MIND BLOWN’ way. But with the execution of that Something Sad. How it manages to pack so many Complex Emotions into just 11-minutes of television. And especially the way it utilizes the basic Adventure Time format for that purpose.

So Adventure Time is a Board-based show. Each episode has an outline pitched and written down by the writer’s room, and then this outline goes to a team of (usually) two Storyboard Artists who develop that simple outline into a full story. And with the show’s art-style deliberately eschewing staying perfectly ‘on-model’ in favor of having the animators take direct reference from how the different storyboarders draw the characters

And the show being generally extremely versatile in terms of themes and tone - AT has allowed a lot of their Storyboarders to really express themselves and their unique artistic vision as part of the Big Collaborative Narrative that is Adventure Time. 

Now, the Boarders who worked on ‘I Remember You’ are Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar. These two were a Storyboarding Duo from the start of S4 and until Sugar left the AT Crew during S5, and they always struck me as a curious combination. I think really from all of the individual boarders working on AT during that time, these two really are the closest to having like… Totally Opposite Artistic Sensibilities as boarders. 

With Sugar favoring a style that is very loose and sketchy and also very rounded. Focusing on expressions and subtle body language and lighting. And being famous for going deep in depth into Big Moments of Emotional Catharsis

And Sanchez having a very clear art style that emphasizes strong silhouettes and clear lines that suggest flatness. Focusing more on major poses and the character’s positions in the space. And having just a really great eye for AT’s brand of silly humor.

Like, I almost kinda suspect these two were paired together so they can each cover for the other’s “weakspots” in writing ‘Adventure Time’. 

And there were a few episodes that did some really interesting stuff with this very contrasting pair - ‘Jake the Dog’ is another example. Giving most of the Farmworld scenes to Sugar and most of the Time Room scenes to Sanchez both plays to their personal strengths as storyboarders and helps to emphasize the strong emotional contrast between these two scenarios. 

And ‘I Remember You’ is actually kinda unique among Adventure Time episodes cause… Most episodes will have the two boarders alternate between working on the episode throughout it. Like you’d have Boarder A draw a bit and then Boarder B and then Boarder A again… But “I Remember You” is divided between Sanchez and Sugar… basically perfectly in the middle.

So the entirety of the first half of the episode was boarded by Sanchez

Until Ice King pushes Marceline and then leaves the room in shame.

And then, Sugar takes over.

And, like, even if you don’t know anything about the Behind the Scenes of Adventure Time or who Cole Sanchez and Rebecca Sugar even are - the Shift is noticeable. The shift in tone, in narrative focus, in the subtleties in which the characters are drawn. 

The entire first half of the episode has this thin veneer of just being a Silly Goofy Ice King Episode. Sanchez’s talent for Adventure Time’s brand of comedy is on full display… but there is also this underlying feeling that Something is Happening just under the surface. And these hints of the Big Emotions of ‘IRY’ expressed via Sanchez’s kinda goofy style really create this balance between putting the audience into a false sense of security that this is just a Very Normal Episode about two characters hanging out and the Tension constantly brewing in the subtext. 

And then it all comes to a blow.

And then the Shift happens. And now we are in Sugar’s court.

And this subtle shift in the artstyle and storytelling also coincide with Marceline finally openly expressing her feelings and the Reveal of Simon and Marcy's shared past. The episode changes focus from Ice King's silly antics to Marceline's feelings. Everything changes, everything in the first part of the episode gets recontextualized and... even on the most basic level, the episode is now Noticeably Different.

I would almost say that Sanchez’s half of the episode has Ice King define the tone, while Sugar’s half of the episode has Marceline define the tone. But more than anything it’s the catharsis. The reveal and release of those emotions that were building up so expertly through the Sanchez half of the episode. All of the Sugar-boarded scenes in this episode are really heartbreaking on their own, just through the tragedy of the story and Sugar’s expert knowledge of howto convey emotion in the visual medium - but it’s so enchanted by what came before it.

“I Remember You” is truly a great testament to how ‘Adventure Time’ could use every aspect of its medium to tell a great story in such a short time.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / This is Part 3! / Part 4 Here!

A/N: I don’t think the poll is over yet, but this one was very clearly going to have the highest percentage, I’ll do the “maybe if we were closer in age” one later though!

If you haven’t already please check out my Batman zine, it’s got so much fanfiction and beautiful art from five different artists! Please check it out, please. I need to find a way to compensate these artists. You can check it out here!

Bruce slumps in his chair, a longing glance spared to the decanter on the bookshelf.

He closes his eyes and wills away the craving. It’s always ten times worse when he wakes up the next day, and he can’t afford feeling worse at this point in his life.

Wasn’t it just yesterday he was twenty years old and he could spend all night playing Bruce Wayne’s party boy image, and be up in three hours feeling none the worse for wear. Now even after nine hours of solid sleep, he wakes up sluggish with an ache in his bones.

I have to be strong.

“Why did you keep her away from us?”

“Who?” he asks absentmindedly, his entire focus still on the brandy.

“(Y/N).” It’s the last name he expected to hear, especially from his oldest son. He looks up, hoping he’s misheard, but the look in Dick’s eyes proves him wrong.

Looks like I’m going to need that drink after all.

He reaches for the decanter, two crystal glasses retrieved from his desk drawer instinctually, glittering on his desk.

“Why are you bringing this up now?” He stalls by taking a sip, feigning casual, like the mention of your name alone didn’t set his heart racing.

“Don’t play this game with me Bruce,” Dick sounds more sad than angry, and it softens him. “Why didn’t you let us see her?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Then start untangling it for me.”

Bruce sighs, taking another sip of his father’s brandy. There’s a million reasons he could tell his son, none of which would be lies entirely, but softer than the truth.

But when he looks up into Dick’s eyes, he can’t bring himself to say any of them. Armed with nothing but liquor at the bottom of his cup, for the first time in four years, after dodging this question from reporters and acclaimed journalists and new paramours, he finally tells the truth.

“Because I didn’t want her to see you.”

A simple, ugly truth. He doesn’t bother looking up to see his sons reaction, he already knows a kind boy like Dick, a boy who’s fully believed his entire life that good prevails, won’t be able to process that his father did something like this. He makes better use of his time by refilling his glass.

Dick slumps in the chair by the time he’s polishing off his second peg, and pouring in his third.

“You did it to punish her?” He can see anger begin to replace shock, and he doesn’t blame him for it, but Bruce is angry enough at himself for the both of them.

“I wanted her to forget we ever existed.” This truth is as kind as it is ugly, and the nuance confuses Bruce even now. But three glasses of brandy affect him in a way that makes his tongue feel lighter and his mind feel free.

“I wanted to give her a potato sack full of money and jewels, and send her far away where no one knew who she was. I wanted her to meet a good partner, someone who would always put her first, and if they decided to extend their family I wanted her to be able to move on without feeling like she left anyone behind.”

“So you wanted her to have a great life, far away from you, and you never wanted to hear anything about it,” Dick’s voice is cold.

Bruce shakes his head. He wanted to hear everything about your new life. What kind of partner you picked. How you spent your days. When you got married. When you had your first child. When you had your second. Everything. And on bad days, he’d close his eyes and let himself imagine it was him standing next to you, that in some alternate universe he made a single different decision that gave him permission to deserve you.

“I was just tired of hurting her,” when you came in to his life, for the first time, he felt like he’s been allowed to have something of his own. Not as Batman, protecting to the city, or Bruce Wayne the mask he carried, but him as a man. But he could never seem to return the reverie you extended to him.

“Do you think she’d ever be able to move on, to live even a semblance of a normal life, if all of you were showing up at her house all bruised and beaten?”

Dick stays quiet now, and Bruce hates himself for having to say it out loud. His son may be an adult in the eyes of the law, but some parts of him are still childlike. After all, Bruce isn’t the only one putting Gotham first.

“I wouldn’t call the way she’s living now normal.” Dick’s been to your penthouse, he’s seen the photo albums full of tabloid clippings and the rare pictures he and his extended family post on social media. He’s seen the journal you keep, hidden on your bookshelf that he mistook for a regular novel during his bi-weekly trips to your place, full of notes on every article and picture and what might be happening behind the scenes to prompt a public appearance like that. Years of deductions and question he could have answered with a single text message a month, but Bruce wouldn’t even allow that.

Dick’s anger grows.

If Bruce had told him he did it to punish you, he’d be angry, but he would understand. Sometimes when you love someone that much, someone who’s too good for you, you grasp at any way to keep them. But this is a million times worse than that.

“If you loved her that much why’d you even let her go?”

Again, another question he wasn’t expecting. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but he doesn’t feel the sharp sting of surprise this time.

“Because sometimes love isn’t enough.”

Dick leaves. Bruce pours another glass, and when he’s sure he’s alone he pulls out his wallet, tugging out the family photo he keeps tucked beneath his black card, turning it over to see your portrait taped on the other side.

The corner of his mouth quirks up.

It was from when you’d both just gotten married, before you were used to upper class etiquette. You complained all morning about having to get ready and wear a bunch of expensive uncomfortable clothes designers had sent in for the article in the Gotham Times, emphasizing how ridiculous opulence like this was when there were so many bigger issues in Gotham.

He’d bought out every copy of the magazine in the city. He still had most of them, tucked away in a box in his closet that became the casket for your relationships. Every now and then he’ll unearth it, just to allow himself to be haunted again by your memory.

But for tonight, just your picture and a glass of brandy is enough.

“You’re so much better at this than I am.”

[sturniyolos]

[song]Producer!Matt SFW + NSFW headcannons. 🎀

SFW 💍

- prod!matt who would use your laugh as his producer tag.

“Baby, stop!” You say giggling as Matt tries to tackle you down.

“Let me kiss you.” Matt states, pinning you down. He had accidently left his phone recording to send snippets to his artist, before you came in. Then, the pure sensation of your laugh made a lightbulb go off in Matt’s mind— and that’s how he wanted everyone to know it was his song; by your laugh.

- prod!matt who would let you have little snippets of his new songs, asked for your opinions, and even gave him some feedback.

“What about this one?” Matt asks, playing ‘NC-17’ by Travis Scott ft 21 Savage. You started to listen to it, the song already becoming your favorite. But, you started to make faces that Matt became self-conscious about.

“Ah shit, you don’t like it?” He asks, pausing the music right away.

“Noooo, I love it. I just— there’s something off about it.” You say, trying to grasp what you can do to change it.

“Have any suggestions?” Matt asks, holding your hand as you swing side by side in the chair.

“H-how about you have the hidden vocals a little bit higher where the autotune is? I feel like that would do the job.” You state, looking at Matt with doe eyes.

He does exactly what you say and you both listen back to it. It sounds even better than what was put originally.

“You’re such a smart girl, sweetheart.” He says, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

- prod!matt who lets you sit there and watch while his artists record lines.

“Maybe have a higher pitch on that one part, yeah? And then we’ll see which ones we like better.” Matt states, letting go of the button so the person in the booth can’t hear him anymore. Matt looks back at you, sitting on the couch with your IPad coloring.

“You okay?” He asks, walking over. He puts his pointer finger on your chin so you can look up at him.

“Mhm.” You hum.

He kisses your head and makes his way over his chair again. He knew he worked better when you were just there to keep him company.

- prod!matt who let you play around with the buttons that was for the recording booth.

“And what does this do?” You ask, curious.

“That makes your pitch go high or low, I usually use the low pitch at the end of songs.” He explains.

“And this one?” You point to the yellow button that can go up and down.

“This one’s your favorite— autotune.” He says, looking at you.

“Go in there! I wanna test it out.” You state, getting all excited.

He rolls his eyes but still makes his way into the booth. You guys spent your whole day fucking around with the autotune settings, singing awfully on his machine.

NSFW 💐

- prod!matt who would use your moans secretly in the back of songs.

“M-Matt, please.” You say as quiet as you’ve ever been. He was pounding you from the back as you both stood infront of the booth.

“Yeah? What do you want, hm? Be louder.” He says, pulling out his phone to record you. You make eye contact with his phone, but nothing comes out but moans. He smiles as you let out two specific moans and gave him the idea to use it in a song. [think P power by Gunna]

A couple days later, Matt releases the song— you listen to it, hearing specific moans being played in the song.

“Mattttt.” You walk into the studio, with the song pulled up on your phone.

“You like hearing your moans? Because I do.” He asks, looking down at you.

“You could’ve picked prettier moans.” You say, all sad.

“Just say you want me to fuck you again.”

- prod!matt who eats you out as a reward to staying in the booth all day long.

Your hands grip Matt’s curls. Legs spread open, your whole bottom half exposed. He looks up at you and smirks, knowing he’s got you.

“You’re so good for me baby, look at you.” He said, rubbing your clit.

“B-baby, I’m gonna c-oh my God.” You say throwing your head back.

“Do it. Cum on my face baby. You waited so long for me, you deserve it my love.” He states, putting his whole face into your heat.

His words are what did it for you as you finish, panting and breathless.

“My pretty girl, let me clean you up.” He states, moving his knees to the couch to kiss you.

- prod!matt who punishes you for being too impatient on waiting for him.

“F-fuck! I’m s-sorry.” You state, trying to pull Matt off of you as you couldn’t take him anymore. You were on your 3rd orgasm of the night— you were overstimulated, sweating, and drooling everywhere.

“Oh, now you wanna be sorry? Ion think you learned your lesson.” He says condescendingly, kissing the arch where your back curves in. Then, slapping you ass so hard it’ll for sure leave a mark tomorrow.

“Wanna act like a brat and whine every second? I’ll fuck you like a brat.” He says, pulling your hair back as you reach your 4th orgasm.

- prod!matt who gets constantly teased when you’re not with him at the studio.

You

*Attatchment: 1 image*

I’m waiting for you babyyyyy.

Matt

Bro I’m still here and you got me hard as fuck

You

Aw, that’s too baddd

Matt

So, you really tryna lose your ability to walk tonight?

You

Actions speak louder than words

Matt

I’ll be home in 10, be ready for me

You

Drive safe <3

*Attachment: 3 images*

- prod!matt who lets you cockwarm him while he’s making his music.

You’ve been on Matt’s dick for 20 minutes at this point, begging for a release. Matt would be lying if he said he wasn’t begging either.

You told him you’d behave if you got to sit on his length, but your wetness dripping down your lower thighs to his wasn’t helping.

“I know you wanna ride baby.” He states, whispering in your ear.

“I p-promised I’d be good.” You said sighing in defeat.

“You’ve shown me you’re a good girl. Now go— show me how bad you’ve been cravin’ this shit.” He says, choking you from behind.

You start to bounce on his cock, moans filling up the room quickly.

“Fuck— you’re g’na make me cum already.” He says, holding your hips to guide you up and down his member.

“Where do you want me to cum, mama?” He asks.

“I-in me. Don’t pull out, please. I want e-every drop.” You say, whining.

“Such a dirty girl.” He whispers in your ear, giving you one hard thrust that makes him fill you up, and what makes you squirt all over his bottom half.

- prod!matt who lets you give him head when he’s stressed.

You get on your knees and look up at hm.

“C’mon baby, I gotta finish this song by tonight. Trilly gon’ whoop my ass if I don’t-” He says, cupping your face with his big hand.

“Let me just help you relieve some stress, I promise I’ll be quick.” You say, cutting him off and smiling up at him.

He lets you take control as you unbutton his pants, seeing the print of his member in his underwear. You kiss the outline of the tip, making Matt hiss.

You take the underwear off of him and immediately get to work. You take the base of his cock and start sucking on the tip.

He moans as a response, creating a makeshift ponytail so he can see your pretty face.

“Can I fuck your face, please?” He asks, becoming submissive.

You nod, letting him hover over the chair and fuck your face until you start crying.

“F-fuck yes.”

“Y-you take me so well.”

You make him sit back down, and shoving his whole dick down your throat.

“Mmmmm, c-cumming— fucking sh-.” He exclaims, letting loose and having his whole warm load in your mouth. You show him your tongue filled with his kids, swallowing it, and showing him your mouth empty.

“You make me so crazy.” He grabs your throat and kisses you.

——————————————————————————

I saw someone on here saying they wanted a prod!matt fanfics but I forgot their user :-( . Hopefully they find this lol.

[hxjikonn]

(Artist: @/neneko_kone on twtr)

Reacting to GN Broken hearted!Reader

☆Staring☆ : Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

Synopsis: Yuu/MC/Reader gets their heart broken and tells their fellow first years over the phone. (Platonic rs w/ the boys) (the break up ended badly)

(I didn’t proofread this :b it’s too long and I’m lazy ehe)

——————————————————————————

Ace Trappola

Would first think you we’re kidding around so he teased and mocked you, but when he heard you’re voice crack and sniffles it dawned to him that you were serious.

“Awww such a sad tale” he teased, “Ace…” you called out in a warning tone but the sadness in your voice slipped out. “Wait you’re not kidding” he asks now completely serious, there wasn’t an answer on the other line because you were trying not to break down…

Moments later, the rickety doors of Ramshackle dormitory was kicked down, literally. “YOU’RE SERIOUS?!” Ace’s voice echoed, not in the phone though, in your hallway…in shock you ran out to see him trying to catch his breath looking like he ran a marathon

“BRO YOU BROKE THE FRONT DOOR?!?!” You yelled seeing him step on the door that was now crushed on the wooden floorboards “IRRELEVANT! TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED CUZ I CAN ASSURE YOU THIS DOOR ISN’T GONNA BE THE ONLY THING BROKEN” he shouted back…

Later that day you two talked about what happened while fixing your front door…Ace provided comfort by staying at Ramshackle with you to talk shit about your ex.

Deuce Spade

I’m gonna be honest with you, He wasn’t completely present when you told him. You happened to called him while he was studying for your upcoming test, but he picked up your call thinking that you just wanted to chat about something, not grasping the fact that this was a SERIOUS MATTER

“I have to tell you something Deuce…” you started, trying not to let your cries slip through, “Uh huh…” he answered, “It’s about…my partner…” you slowly said still being careful not to break down, inhaling preparing to tell him the bad news you opened your mouth to say something when he said “Wait sorry what was that?” sighing you shut your eyes

“No nevermind… s’fine…” you gave up “I’ll tell you tomorrow, you seem busy…” you were trying so hard to sound unbothered but a sniffle was heard by Deuce from your end of the line, he stopped what he was doing immediately and picked up his phone beside him

“Hey wait! Don’t hang up! Are you okay? Are you crying?” He rushed, now is very concerned, this made you finally broke down in tears. And also made Deuce panic he stood up from his chair and went out of his dorm rushing to get to you

“Hey it’s okay! It’s okay, I’m coming over there right now and you can tell me everything! Okay? Don’t cry!” He comforted you through the phone while running to get to the hall of mirrors. He arrived at your door step panting, hands on his knees trying to not pass out from sprinting all the way there

You let him in, gave him some water and you both sat down and talked about it, the moment he found out about the break up, and how it hurt you, two things were going through his mind One: Be there to comfort you while you’re sad and Two: Call Ace and Grimm so they can hunt down your ex and beat the shit outta him.

Jack Howl

May the great seven have mercy on your ex’s soul because he was prepared to feed your ex to the savannaclaw students. We all know Jack could never ignore his friends when they need him, especially now when you’re hurt…

“Hello?” He answers the phone while he was taking care of his little cactus garden, he wasn’t met with a reply, but he was met by familiar quiet sobs and sniffles, “What happened?” He sternly asks, all his attention is now directed in the phone call

“S’nothing serious…” you tried to defend, your voice betraying you, it was evident to Jack that it was in-fact something but he didn’t want to be pushy, “I’m gonna come over there, and you can tell me when you’re ready…” he said, gentle with his tone “Jack you don’t need t-“ “I’ll bring ice cream” he cut you off with a bribe before you can even protest, “fine” you said in defeat not being able to deny free ice cream

Once he arrived he sat down with you as you ate your ice cream, it’s a rare thing for him to do but this time he even let you play with his tail, while you were talking to him about what happened…

Hearing all of this he felt sad that you had to go through all that, but at the same time he can’t wait to see your ex at school tomorrow so he can give him a “talk” about “stuff”

Epel Felmier

He was in yet another “meeting” with Vil and Rook about something, he didn’t know what he did wrong this time but Vil was yet again scolding him for who knows what, until his phone rang and he said he had to take it. Safe to say he’s gonna have to stay for another extra 2hrs with his dorm leader after that phone call…

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, listen to me okay?” He said, walking back and forth the hallway outside Vil’s room, “They broke your heart, do I need to break their face?” He snapped, angered by you crying because your ex hurt you. He was aware that Vil and Rook probably heard him but that wasn’t his concern at the moment

“Epel it’s fine…” you sniffled, now you’re the one trying to calm him down. “Not it is not! Give me their number, and give me their address, I’ll make sure they know the damage they’ve done-“ he was abruptly cut off by Vil slamming his door open staring epel down with a “dont you dare” look

“please don’t, it’s really okay, I just need someone to talk to…” you said, you’re voice was hoarse, raspy, tired from crying so much, he felt bad. “Okay, okay I wont…But I will come over there though…” he said, Vil cleared his throat looking at Epel arms crossed, “I’ll come over in about 2hrs from now…” he corrected himself knowing what scolding lays ahead…

Even though he was mentally drained from Vil’s lectures, he still kept his promise and went to Ramshackle to comfort you. He was still infuriated with your ex but he’s there to comfort right now, he can be mad at your ex tomorrow…when he’s with the others…probably planning to hunt your ex down…

Sebek Zigvolt

Was suddenly not his usual self when you told him about what happened, the poor thing was so distressed by your crying self he forgot to say goodbye to the portrait of Malleus when he left his room to go to you.

“Human, don’t you know what time it is? Shouldn’t you be asleep instead of calling me? We have classes tomorrow!” he scolded a little loudly when he answered your call of course not trying to disturb his dorm mates “I’m sorry…” you said, you’re voice was weak and tiny…he felt a sudden pang of guilt in his chest when he heard you’re quiet sobs

“….Are you alright human?” He was suddenly very gentle with his tone, worried about you… “I’d be lying if I said I was” you tried to joke around to help you cope with the pain you’re feeling, He didn’t like this, “Please don’t joke about it… Do you need me to be there with you?” His voice was so soft, unlike his usual loud tone, it made you cry, nodding as if he could see you, but that was all he needed to rush out and go to Ramshackle…even forgetting to great his Malleus portrait goodbye..

When he arrived and saw you’re disheveled hair and tear stained cheeks he surprisingly pulled you into a hug, he was sad to see you like this and this is how his father comforted him when he was a child when he was upset… he was also hiding the fact that he too was teary eyed, both of you cried your eyes out while talking about it and went to school looking like bees stung your eye lids…

After that night, He hated humans even more now, with you being an exception of course

——————————————————————————

A/N: I wanted to add Ortho and Grimm but it was getting too long 😭😭😭 I DID NOT PROOFREAD THIS!! So there may be some errors, wring grammar, misspelled words or missing words.

[greynatomy]

Espresso

Alex Morgan x Fem!Reader

I really liked how this came about when writing. I was scrolling through tiktok and this came around again of andrew garfield describing emma stone (which is the most romantic thing to describe a person you love).

Let me know what you think!

-grey

———

All of the United States Women’s National Team players are in the conference room, just finishing up a meeting with their coaches. Everyone is split up in their normal groups with the younger players sticking together. But there was one thing that they all have in common. It’s the love of one particular artist.

“Ohmygod! It out in five minutes!” Sonnett practically yelled for the whole world to hear.

“What’s starting?”

“The documentary all about how Espresso was written and put together.”

“Wait! That’s today?”

“Yes, Ashley. Come on. Keep up.”

Emily sets up her laptop, refreshing every second until the documentary shows up on Netflix.

“It’s right there! Click it.”

“I am, chill.” She swats Ashley’s hand away.

———

“Now, ‘Fairytale,’ what’s that about?” The interviewer asks.

A smile instantly shows up on your face.

“Uh, it’s pretty straight forward.”

“But go into detail. From listening to it once, I know it’s about how much you love someone and always wanting them close by.”

“That’s basically it.”

“Give me more man.” You both laugh. “Who’s it about?”

“Uh, I won’t be saying who, but she was-is pretty special. I’ve known her since we were kids. I was a pretty shy kid growing up, kept to myself most of the time, then she shows up out of nowhere basically demanding to be friends.”

“Then you became more?”

“Then we became more. She helped me open up and like the song says ‘with you I lose all my fears,’ she was always there to help me get by.”

You are now sat on a stool with your guitar and perform the song that was just talked about. (Fairytale by We Three)

“Are you still together?”

“Oh.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “No.”

“What happened?”

“I actually have no clue. It’s been, what? Thirteen years.” You start giggling.

“What’s got you gigglin’ over there.”

“Nothing, nothing. Just the number, that’s all. Don’t ask me about it.”

“Alright then, let’s backtrack. You said you don’t know what happened. How is that possible to not know what happened that led to the breakup?

“I just never got the closure that I needed, I guess. I mean yeah, she said she just didn’t love me anymore, but what else? What did I do? What could I have done differently? Just those questions that I have that haven’t and probably never will get answered.”

“Do you know what she’s up to now.”

“Uh, yeah I do. Not to sound creepy, but I’ve seen how she is and she’s doing amazing. She’s moved up in the world. A true inspiration, especially to her daughter.”

“So she has a child?”

“Yeah. And she looks so much like her.” You give a sad smile, a tear slipping from your eye.

“She must be real special to you, even after all these years.”

“She was like a shot of espresso, she’s like, being bathed in sunlight, she’s incredibly energetic and enthusiastic and she had this sense of play and fun which was, incredibly exciting. And then just like the sunset that illuminates her beauty she left, while like a dark night I got pulled into darkness.”

———

Alex Morgan sat in silence throughout the whole documentary. She hasn’t caught up with your career like you had done with her.

“I’ve never been described as a shot of espresso.” Ashley breaks the silence.

“That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Also very heartbreaking at the same time.” Rapinoe speaks up for the first time.

“But isn’t it weird that she’s still caught up on this girl after thirteen years?” Kelley questions.

“I don’t think she’s caught up, she just wants the closure she never got.”

“Man whoever left her just like that, we needa have some words.”

Alex excuses herself, saying she was tired and was gonna go up to her room. On the way to her room, she though about more of her life and the evens that happened in the past year.

She divorced her ex-husband after nine years, co-parenting—if you can call him seeing his daughter only when he feels like it.

And now that she’s thinking about it, the only reason she can come up with was not wanting to be the reason that you can express your love freely to the world. Alex isn’t out, she never was, never even planning to. That’s why she broke up with you because it wasn’t fair to you.

No, she just needs to tell you.

For closure.

Her thumb hovers over your contact, hoping it never changed.

Sunshine ☀️

Hi.

It wasn’t long until she got a reply.

Lover ♥️

Hey.

Sunshine ☀️

Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me? To catch up?

Alex throws her phone on the bed, anxious to know what you would say. Her phone vibrating makes her grab her phone just as quick as she threw it.

Lover ♥️

When and where?

~~~~~

no part 2

[booksandabeer]

Stucky, Fandom Longevity, and "Primacy Bias"

There’s this post that's been floating around the past few days about how the Stucky fandom in its heyday produced fic and art masterpieces like they were all collectively possessed by an unprecedented spirit of creative insanity. It’s a good, fun post and I agree with the person who wrote it. (not rb'ing because I didn't want to hijack their post with something that's only tangentially related).

It was indeed a magical time and the creative output in both quantity and quality in the two-year period following the release of CA:TWS is—with perhaps a few exceptions—unmatched by anything that I’ve seen before and since. However, going through the notes on that post, I noticed something that left me a little irritated and quite frankly sad since it is in congruence with, and to a certain extent the confirmation of something that I’ve been thinking about a lot lately.

For one thing, there are so many people in the notes expressing sentiments along the lines of “it was such a wonderful time; I wish I could go back; I miss these fics; I want to read these fics again,” etc., etc., you get it. And it feels a little silly pointing this out, but…you can just do that? Almost all of these fics are still right there, waiting for you to be (re)read. Yes, a lot of people left the fandom after The Great Devastation of 2019, but their stories didn’t just disappear. It's not like there is now a big, black hole where the Steve/Bucky tag used to be on AO3. So, if you miss these fics and you want to revisit them—just do it. Chances are the authors will be delighted that people are still finding and enjoying their stories all these years later. And—since apparently this needs saying, too, judging from the notes on that post: A lot of people seem to be very concerned with losing ‘coolness points’ for openly admitting that they still miss the ship and often feel tempted to dip their toes back into the Stucky pool. I don’t know how to tell you this, but if someone tries to shame you for simply enjoying or missing something, they are an asshole. Not to mention that all this is happening on tumble.com—'coolness' doesn't exactly live here. And that is a good thing, to be clear. Fandom is not about being cool. It’s about being as enthusiastic, as silly, as absolutely fucking unhinged about the things you love as you want to be. So, stop caring what other people think and enjoy yourself.

The other thing is that there seems to be a pretty widespread misconception that the Stucky fandom hasn’t produced any good fanworks after 2016.

First, that is patently and demonstrably untrue. There is so much incredibly good fanfiction and fanart still out there. Not as much as back in the day, sure, but it still exists. And more is being posted every day! Even some of the OG Big Names are still around. One of the most beloved Stucky series that started all the way back in 2014 was updated as recently as December of last year. The artist, who I believe the op is referring to as creating ‘baroque’ paintings, posted their latest Stucky art not even two months ago.

Second, I find this “primacy bias” more than just a little insulting to the many hardworking and incredibly talented people who are still putting their blood, sweat, and tears into creating for this community. And it’s one thing if people who have long left the fandom believe or say something like this, but it’s frankly irritating when I see people who are still very much active—and therefore definitely should know better—feed into that same false myth. Yes, it sucks that the Stucky ship isn’t as big as it used to be, but that doesn't mean there isn't any 'fresh talent' to be found anymore. I’m also not saying we shouldn’t still celebrate and recommend older works—I do it all the time! And it sure as hell doesn't mean everyone has to reblog absolutely everything all the time, either. Your blog, your rules.

But maybe we should put a little more focus on the good things, on the creators and the community we have now, especially if we want that community to still exist in another ten years. I mean, imagine you’re a person who’s just gotten into the fandom (because yes, there are indeed still new people discovering Stucky all the time) and one of the first things you’re being told is “eh, nice that you're here, but you’re about 7 years late; the big party is already over.” Does that seem like a fun space to hang out in to you?

So. Let’s all—and I do not exclude myself from this because God knows, I love to complain—spend a little less time mourning the ‘good old days’ that are never coming back anyway, and instead focus our attention on enjoying and appreciating both the incredible treasure chest of an archive we have AND the wealth of high-quality art and fic that is still being created by this wonderful community every single day. With this in mind:

🥳🎊Happy Stucky Week 2023!!! 🎊🥳

*I want to make it very clear that this is a general thing that’s been on my mind lately and that I’m trying to work through here—probably not very coherently. I'm not trying to tell anybody 'how to do fandom' and I’m most definitely not vagueposting about any particular incident, person, or group in this fandom. This isn’t a callout post. It’s an I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this and I don’t know what else do with them post.

[shellbells-things]

I was in the car a lot today, traveling back from a trip I took. Of course I streamed FACE and Closer Than This and SGMB. But I also listened to some actual radio. I started paying attention to the lyrics of many of the “biggest songs out there” (I live in the U.S.). Taylor Swift, Usher, Raye, etc. Listen. All of these artists are writing songs about misery and broken hearts and how much they hate their ex….their situation…their lives. Lyrics like “it’s got to be better than this” or “when did we start kissing strangers” or “I don’t want to feel like I did last night”. Ok, these songs are catchy no doubt. But I find it kinda sad that the go-to feeling in most of today’s songs is misery or heartache. Which got me thinking about our Jimin. If he wants to call out haters, he’s very capable of doing so (Set Me Free pt. 2 anyone?). But I’ve noticed that if he writes a song about love, it’s always sweet and positive. He wants everyone to know he loves deeply and completely and that being together is the most important thing. And always, he’s singing directly to his love (whose name starts with “J” and ends with “ungkook”), making sure to convey the depth of his feelings. I just find that so endearing. I cannot WAIT to hear his newest (love) songs. I know they are going to be beautiful. 🥰 Have I told you lately how much I love Jimin? How much I love it when he’s letting us know just how in love HE is? Well, I do. I really, really do. Just look at his expression when the object of his affection is in his line of sight! I’m sure that view gives him a lot of inspiration.

[captain-pheonix]

Currently menstruating, id like to see the TF2 men (or support classes) experience the wild ups and down of mother nature when Reader lashes out at them over something comically stupid and then starts crying dramatically out of guilt for being so mad. Then goes back to happy and normal a moment later. Because i am an emotional wreck when the blood flows and i need an outlet for it. Thank youuu!!! Angle 📐 😇🪽

A/N: I know your pain bbg ❤️ tysm for sending it in Angle! I did a sort of half oneshot half headcannons thing, hope that’s ok, here you are! (Sorry this took a bit, life had been terrible recently)

Warnings: talk of menstruation (duh)

Scout:

- Whenever your on your period he would probably go to Medic for advice and some remedies

- He might think it’s really gross but he knows you can’t really control it after he got it explained to him

- He might notice if something is a little off about you that day

- Maybe by the way you seem annoyed or you trying to fight a fed up expression

- Most likely you would just be hanging out in his room at the base, laying in his bed and Scout drawing in a notebook, chatting with you

“Hey, d’you wanna try drawin’ somethin’? I’ll teach ya!”

“Oh, sure? Why not.”

- While you two are drawing you start having trouble following along with him

- The lines don’t match up with the ones you draw next and you start getting annoyed

- Eventually, you snap and just tear the paper in half

“Why are you such a good artist!? It’s unfair!”

- You get up off the bed and start pacing around, uncontrollably fuming

- After going from one wall to the other, you look back up at Scout’s crestfallen expression, sad kicked puppy eyes with a hint of realization

- The tears start falling and Scout smiles and lets out a little sigh, and beckons you to come sit beside him

“Hey, sweetness. C’mere.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s all good. I get it. Just let me take care of you.”

- Scout presses a kiss to your forehead

Sniper:

- Would likely enjoy it quite a bit if you just wanted a few lazy days with him

- He might go get candy and snacks to take care of you for the week

- He might not fully understand how periods work but he’s probably heard some things

- you two could hang out in his camper and read magazines/listen to music/cuddle

- maybe you start thinking about how you have chores to do and how you’re not doing anything

“Jeez, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just get up and do dishes or something?”

“It’s alright, roo. You have all the time in the world. Just rest.”

“But—I mean c’mon, I have to do something.”

“Well, do ya feel up to it?”

“Uh…no, I’m in a lot of pain, but—“

“So don’t.”

- the feeling that you need to something starts making you feel bad about yourself and you start silently crying and trying to wipe your tears away

- when Sniper notices he gets concerned and wraps his arms around you

“Hey, hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, heh, sorry. Stupid hormones.”

- Sniper just huffs a laugh and keeps hugging you

Demoman:

- ok let’s be real he would offer you some booze for the pain and stuff

- a movie night would work nicely, because demo could probably pass out sometime during it and it would be a calm night

- the characters in the movie start making you angry, but weirdly angry

“Why do we have to watch this? It never ends up well for the main character! This is depressing!”

“Uh..We could watch something else, ya know.”

“WHY AM I SO ANGRY ALL OF A SUDDEN? WHY DO WE HAVE TO WATCH THIS STUPID THING?!”

- Demo turns off the TV

- you start crying after realizing you snapped at him

“Wait—no no I’m sorry.”

“Hey, lad/lass, c’mere.”

- Demo and you end up cuddling and then both passing out on the couch

Spy:

- I feel like he might know a bit about periods

- But it would really gross him out

- At least he might romance and charm you to make you feel better

- 100% get you fine wine and snacks to make you feel special and loved

- Lounging in his smoking room 10/10, might even offer you some of his special cigars or something if you smoke

- Treats you like high royalty

- Probably goes to medic for painkillers and other things to make you feel better

- Totally a chance to learn to dance to some music on the record player in his smoking room

- I feel like making a bunch of mistakes would set you off

“This isn’t working. Why aren’t my feet working? You’re the best teacher there could be, what am I doing so wrong!?”

- You break away from Spy and hide your tears by turning away from him

“Mon Chérie, are you alright?”

- He walks back in front of you to see you crying

“I’m...sorry.”

- Spy gives you a forehead kiss and wraps you in a warm embrace

- 10003939/10 gentleman he rubs your back until you feel better

Heavy:

- Heavy would likely not care at all, growing up with 4 other women for most of his life

- Considering this he would probably be at least a little educated

- Any questions he had would likely be answered by Medic

- I feel like Heavy would be one of the most understanding mercs

- At Heavy’s turn for making dinner, you decide to go help him because you feel like you’ve been lazy all day

- You burn your hand and start cussing wholeheartedly

“Am I just that bad at cooking!? I’m honestly so useless. Why can’t you teach me to be better!?”

- Heavy’s just straight up confused for a second

“Oh..oh no. I’m sorry.”

- tears start falling

“Is ok. Heavy understands.”

- bear hugs and then finishing up dinner <3

Medic:

- Bro has every remedy on hand and definitely tracks it for you

- So he would already know hormonal vs. Actually being mean/sad

- A good scenario might be a lazier day when you just hang out in his lab, and he educates you more on what he’s doing and why

- It starts you feeling like you’re not good enough and that Medic is so much better at his job than you

“And das how it’s done! Fascinating, ja?”

“Yeah. I guess I just wish I could do all this great stuff like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, c’mon, you know everything! You know so much you can just do surgery on someone and everything works out!”

“Well, it’s not that simple,—are you crying?”

- You just nod

“Ah. Come here, mein liebling.”

- gives you hugs and kisses until you’re better 🥰

———————————

Thank you for reading!! Again, I’m so sorry that took so damn long. I’m getting back into writing today!

[int-writersmind]

Potential Customer

Summary: You work at a record store, bored out of your mind, until Peter Parker walks in and catches your eye. Peter Parker x Reader 

*also I wrote this with the Ps4/5 Peter Parker in mind, but honestly it's generic enough to be any Peter.

Genre: Fluff; Flirting

Word Count: 2k+

When you decided to take a job at So-So Records, you thought it would be like that movie Empire Records where every day would be an exciting romp, well hopefully not a potential job-losing-filled-romp. Unfortunately for you it was much more boring.

Your days were mostly filled with dealing with tourists who were kind-hearted but utterly clueless or pretentious audiophiles who would give you their opinions without even asking you. However, for all your big talk you weren’t that knowledgeable when it came to music, you just liked what your liked and were opened to suggestions (from unpretentious, kind customers of course.)

It was a weekday, you couldn’t remember which, since they all seem to blend together when working back-to-back shifts. You were alone, the shop had a few customers idling around. 

You were at the front counter, elbow resting on the check-out counter, head resting on one hand, the other lazily flipping through a catalog. When the front bell rings, your eyes barely flicker upwards. It isn’t until that potential customer who walked through the front door is standing right in front of you do you finally look up.

“Um, hello?” says the Potential Customer.

“Welcome to So-So Records,” you decide to stand up straight and give your full attention to this Potential Customer. Clueless Tourist or Pretentious Audiophile? “Can I help you with anything?”

“Uh, yeah, um,” The Potential Customer, a mid-twenties guy with chocolate brown hair and amber eyes that complemented, reached into his satchel and pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages. “I’m actually looking for this album? I’ve been to a few other places and had no luck, they all say So-So would be my best chance.”

The Potential Customer, with his slouchy shoulders and tendency to fidget quite often, placed a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing up and down. Your eyes dart from the hand on the back of his neck to the hand that gives you the notebook. Your gaze lingers a little too long on his long, slender fingers. Strange, you know, but sometimes the most attractive parts of a human were really strange. 

You refocus, eyes skimming the paper, on it was a title and artist, your brain flickers with the passing glance of the cover. “Uh, yeah, I…think we have this, follow me.”

You move from behind the desk, taking the notebook in hand, glancing at the words once more. You lead– 

“I’m Peter by the way, I know you didn’t ask, but still…” You glance back, gesturing to your name tag, as you lead Peter down the aisles of various genres of music. “I actually never been to a record store before, didn’t even know they still existed.”

“I was like that too for a while,” You stop at a section where the older music was located, placing the notebook on one section of records. “Gotta thank the hipsters for making it popular again, even though they are some of the most annoying customers.”

“The only memory of records I have is when my Aunt and Uncle used to play some every so often on the weekends.”

You start to flip through the albums, scanning for the right one, “Do they still find time to play some?” 

Peter sighs and leans against a row of records, looking elsewhere, “No, no, my Uncle, actually…passed some time ago...”

You stop for a moment, fingers pausing, you look in his direction. As if he could feel your eyes on him, he looks up at you. His face, neutral with maybe a hint of sadness. Like he was used to saying that a loved one who must have been important in his life was gone, but also still hurt when thinking about him. 

“Apologies.” You say, not completely happy with the response. How many times had he heard that?

“Don’t be,” Peter crosses his arms, smirks a boyish grin that makes him even more appealing. “It made me think of a nice memory that I forgot about, more memories about Uncle Ben will never not be nice.”

You smile as you return back to searching for the record, “Oh, look I found it! That’s surprising.”

Peter moves closer, hovering over your right shoulder to get a better look, You sharply suck in breath, turning your head to look at him. Peter glances at you, and smiles, “That’s great, kind of a shame though.”

“Why?”

“'Cause it means I have to leave now,” You hand him the record and the notebook, to which Peter plucks it from your hand, looking over the front and the back, while moving away from you. You exhale deeply as you follow behind him.

“Who says you have to go? Unless you have somewhere to go?” You finally say.

“I think I can spare some time,” Peter looks down at his pretend watch on his bare wrist, “Are you gonna introduce me to some music that will change my life?”

“Please,” You laugh as the two of you lazily walk down the aisle, “I’m hardly the last person to do so.”

“Don’t you-” 

“Work at a record store? I know, I know, but I like what I like. Sue me if it’s Top 100.”

The two of you stop at the end of the aisle, you standing at one end of a row of records, Peter moving over and doing the same.

“I guess it’s better than getting made fun of for having an old man's taste.”

“Really? You get hate for having a love for the oldies? That’s some bullshit, especially in a place like New York.”

“Well, when you're a nerdy kid with thick glasses and a love of science, it’s not so cool” Peter flicks through the stack, pulling up an album by a band that was huge in the 70s. 

“Hmm, if you like that group,” You flick through some albums on your side, skimming until you land on the second record by a female-led group from around the same time. “How about this?” You model the record, posing with it, flipping it from front to back. “And…it’s on sale.” You move over to the same aisle as Peter, standing close to him like he did to you earlier. 

Peter takes the record from your hand, “I think younger, nerdier me would have loved this.”

“Younger, nerdier, you sounds like he was such a cutie.” You response. 

“Was?”

You shyly smile back, moving away with your hands behind your back. ”

This was grossly unprofessional, what were your intentions with this potential customer? Making a sale or making a move. You push that thought out of your head, if you were making him uncomfortable or pushing it too far, then he wouldn’t be smirking at you like that. That smile that causes a slight flurry of butterflies in your stomach. 

The two of you continue your walk back to the front, the long way of course. Bobbing and weaving through different aisles, many short, some long. Passing through pop–contemporary and classic, and some RnB, ending up at one end of the store, in the rock section. “What were you like in high school?” Peter asks.

“Quiet, mostly,” You lean against the wall and Peter does the same next to you. “Not too popular but I had friends, spent a lot of time with my art and music teachers, focused on doing little stuff like that instead of more fun extracurricular activities.”

“Huh, yeah I get it, I found some time to do some little stuff to distract myself in high school too. Nothing…too exciting.” 

You inch closer to Peter and so does he, to the point where the two of you bump shoulders. “Oh sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Peter says.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stare at one another, the hum of whatever record you put on earlier lightly plays in the air. The dry smell of the older, original pressings of albums of the past, filling up the room. 

You dart your eyes downward, quickly, towards his lips, before looking away. God, now this was unprofessional. “Shit, sorry.” You move off the wall, but Peter’s hand on your wrist causes you to turn. His touch wasn’t aggressive, or rough, but gentle and light. Like a feather was tickling the underside of your hand instead of his long, slender fingers. 

Ding-Ding!

Both of your heads turn towards the door, a middle aged couple walk in, wonder in their eyes, cameras slung over their head. Clueless Tourists. You and Peter look at one another, before resigning to the situation and finally making it to the front. You, behind the counter, Peter in front, the two records under his arm.

“Hello, welcome to So-So Records, I’ll be here if you need me.” You say to the newest potential customers, as they give you that polite nod, and split off into the rest of the store. Peter places the records on the table, when all of sudden his phone goes off, he opens it and stares intently at the screen. “Something wrong?”

“No, ah yes, no,” Peter says, his head whipping from his phone to you multiple times. “I-God, I hate to do this but I can’ take these right now–”

“You can always come back.” You take the records from the counter, holding them in your hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I close tonight, you can come back later and get them.” You place the records behind you, before looking back nervously. “I mean only if you want, obviously, duh.”

“Duh.” Peter dryly chuckles, glancing once more at his phone. “I really have to leave, but I’ll be back, I promise. It’s a date. I mean, no, not a date, but–”

“I gotcha.” You wink and smile at Peter as he nervously backs up, sneaking in a last look before leaving through the door, with a ding-ding.

God, you can not believe what just happened! Are you some teenage girl whose knees go weak when a semi-attractive guy shoots you a smile? Who’s touch makes your face heat up, even if it’s just shoulders touching, or gentle, kind, fingertips on your wrist?

For the rest of your shift, you did more of the same that you did every day at your job. Helping customers, listening to unsolicited music advice, and a lot of needless flipping through the store’s catalog.

As the day wined down, the sun dipping into the horizon, you made peace with the fact that Peter wasn’t coming back. Whatever, this  is reality not some rom-com where fate will bring the two leads back together at the end.

You also decided to buy your recommendation to Peter as well, you had plenty of copies of it in the store, so if he decides to come back after all, he could get his own copy. 

You pull down the store’s  front gate, squatting down to lock the padlock, pulling it to make sure it was secure, the record under your arm.

“Making away with customers orders I see.”

You turn to face the familiar voice, Peter slightly out of breath, but still as charming as he was this morning. “Potential customer.” You say, standing up, smiling ever just subtly.

“Sorry I’m late,” Peter glances at the closed store, with its darkened lights and gated entrance. “Like really late.”

“Hmm, that’s ok,” You turn to walk down the sidewalk, your head peering over your shoulder, “Walk with me?” 

As you walk down the sidewalk, record held in your arms across your chest, Peter falls in rhythm with you, so close that his hand occasionally grazes your leg. Jokingly you say, “I thought you forgot all about me, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Oh god no,” Pete dryly chuckles. “The only thing I could think about was you, I-I mean coming back here to pick up the records and uh, and also to see you, I guess.”

“Ah, you guess huh?” 

The two of you wait at a crosswalk, before deciding to jaywalk as there were no cars in sight, you make a turn once you get to the other side, on the block that you lived on.

“I was actually coming to tell you that I no longer need that record actually, the one I came in for. It was for a, uh, a project that quickly evolved to…something else.”

“Ok, I see,” Your head turns to Peter and he does the same, your eyes lock on to one another, his face filled with nerves. “You were gonna come all the way back here to not buy something. That’s a first, I would have preferred ghosting.”

Peter laughs again, shaking his head, “No, no, I was still gonna get the record that you suggested to me. Sounds more up my alley anyway.” You stop in front of your apartment building, with Peter placing his hand on your arm to move out of another couples way. The two of you stand in front of the building's metal gates. “But it seems I have to come back during business hours to do so.”

“Or not.”

Peter raises his eyebrows in confusion, as you reach in your jacket’s pocket for a notebook you always kept. You write down something on the paper, using the pen you stuck in the notebook holder, tearing off the page. You place the paper on top of the record and push it towards him.

“No I can't-”

“I’m not giving it to you.” You say, “I’m lending it to you. Listen to it, listen to it again and then…call me, or text me and let me know how it is.” Peter takes the record and piece of paper from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. “And don’t ghost me, it would be a shame if I never get to see-talk to you again.”

“Yeah…it would be…”

“Goodnight Peter.”

Peter says your name, it makes your heart flutter just for a moment when he does so, ‘“Goodnight.” But the two of you don’t leave, you two just stare at each for a little longer.

Your phone rings and you’re forced to look at it.

“My roommate, she gets antsy if I don’t come home exactly when I say I will.”

“I understand.”

You nod and turn to walk into the building. Before you go through the doors, you glance back to see Peter staring at the piece of paper before looking up at you, that same smirk on his face. 

God, you are so unprofessional.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Read Part 2 -> Hanging on the Telephone!

Oh my goodness this is my first fic on Tumblr! Please be kind and comment if you like, like if you prefer, reblog if you're like that, I won't judge. Always open for suggestions and to ~virtually~ meet others! I'm so new to this and I know I'm currently talking into the void but, whatever...Bye, thanks if you made it this far!!!

masterlist

[rainbowchaox]

Purgatory Pissa Masterpost Part 1:

Look guys Missa hasn’t streamed again since day 1 of the event! So I was thinking to make it easier for artists and fic writers to remember canon moments. And I am HAVING thoughts. And feeling the need to yet again be “normal” about my favorite cubitos.

Let’s be honest. Philza was so happy to see Missa was online it was adorable. In Philza POV he practically started the zooming into Missa from the top of the wall. HUSBAND SPOTTED! And the amount of joy between them seeing each other again! THEY MISSED EACH OTHER SO MUCH!!!

Then Missa! Finally got a little brave and practically demanded Philza to give him a HUG. And guys I squealed watching it live. And philza immediately GAVE his husband a hug. And then tubbo immediately was like “are you guys gonna kiss and shit?” And PHILZA broke. Like HMMM why you hesitating why the confusion. Like DO YOU WANNA KISS HIM YOU REPRESSED CROW-

Then we also have to talk about THAT scene. The scene where quite frankly Missa just stared at his husband pecs as Philza canonically flexed- causing Philza to quickly get shy. Missa is so down bad that even I was like “MISSA PLEASE!”. This is the same man in the same stream where he legit called a painting of Philza “papacito” which I learned is like the Spanish version of “daddy”. Which Missa was very judged by his own chat for. It was hilarious. Cubito Missa was a different breed of simping and yearning this stream. I wish I made all of this up, but nope IT HAPPENED CANONICALLY. AND THEY EXPECT ME TO BE NORMAL?!?

But what everyone should focus on the most is when cucurocho said quesadilla island was a paradise. Mr Simpfonia himself immediately agreed because and I quote “Philza is here”. THIS IS BIG! Because EVEN Missa knows the island is horrible. Chayanne is gone for Void Sakes. BUT ITS PARADISE TO MISSA BECAUSE HE LOVES PHILZA- I’m so normal about this dudes. Because even spiderbit can’t say the island is paradise because they met each other on the island, but Missa casually says it like it didn’t rewrite pissa warriors brain chemistry. Something something Philza is comfort and safety to Missa. He loves Philza so much. Truly a bleeding heart with loyalty so strong it’s titanium.

And can we all talk about how Philza when they were separated waved goodbye to Missa when Missa back was turned? Philza doesn’t show affection through words. But by actions. Something something he is already missing Missa. The tsundere crow. JUST ADMIT YOU LOVE HIM-

Also Missa before all of this showing off his aquarium apartment. And casually says “The point is so Philza doesn’t notice so we can stay close to him” BITCH ITS PHILZA AND MISSA FOR A REASON! Did you forget the double bed?!?!!!? Pissa love each other so much it’s slowly becoming a obsession. Not to mention mISSA in general hauntings Philza thoughts (dude checked the map to see Missa when he died-) we get it Philza you love him and are sad you got spilt up. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE YOU NEVER GET TO SEE YOU HUSBAND AND MISS HIM-

Another great moment is when Missa heard his own team mates saw Philza and immediately was possessive and protective DESPITE THEM ACTUALLY BEING ON ENEMY SIDES was like “No don’t hurt my man”. Missa wants his husband to be safe. And nice to know his possessive streak is healthy as ever. Philza is HIS man. I swear Missa we get it- YOU LOVE HIM. THEY MAKE ME CRAZY. And guys it was a experience watching Missa POV. Because he was ignoring all the death and chaos in the chat BUT the moment when Missa saw Philza die his whole face changed expressions. Philza was the only death he reacted too I ain’t lying.

Now for the best part of the stream, Missa causally entered the VC of red team. And I quote “I’m not part of your team but I wanna tell you I love you guys”. PHILZA IMMEDIATELY SAID I LOVE YOU BACK. Of course everyone else was suspicious of Missa being so nice and called him a manipulator while Philza immediately was like “No he wouldn’t do that”. PHILZA TRUSTS MISSA SO MUCH-

LIKE WE UNDERSTAND! You guys are always on each other minds. We were fed so much! And I can’t wait to see what other cute pissa moments we get in the future- I hope you enjoyed my rambling essay. I feel like there should be a masterpost of pissa moments in case anyone needed a refresher! Will make Part 2 once we get more cute pissa moments!

[trungles]

Processing Process, and More Processing

I made this post free and publicly readable on Patreon, but I'm reposting the whole thing right here too because, well, it's a free post, and I don't want to make you click away from your dashboard if you don't need to. But also if you want to support my work, here's the link to the post.

It's a little bit about cartooning, a little bit about drawing, and then it turns into a eulogy for a chicken.

I wrote “process” more than once, and now the word looks funny and is beginning to lose its meaning to me.

This post is about a few things, and it’s a little bit on the sad end of things. Nothing dire! No worries. There’s just a little mention of death, just as a heads up.

Before we get to that, though, I’ve been doing some work and had some thoughts.

I’m often asked about how I draw the noodle hair on my characters, and the answer is typically that I draw each and every line with my hand. But there are considerations of movement and volume that go into it beyond its texturally decorative purposes. I love being able to convey shape and motion with it. It’s less evident, I think, in my illustration work, but I think it’s much more obvious when I do sequential work. In the above image, you can see me working out a sequence of Angelica having a series of thoughts. Her head sort of moves, and her eyes follow. You can see I’d planned out the general shape of the hair and how I’d like it to move.

I wound up moving the drawings a little bit so that the readers eyes will actually follow the character’s eyes as it moves gently rightward on the page. The hair is there to accentuate the movement, like so:

It’s a consideration I employ in all my drawings, but especially when I’m drawing hair and fabric. I don’t use a lot of action lines, so this becomes an important way to give the reader the information that someone is moving through a space. Resistance, gravity, and motion are all things I have to keep in the back of my head when I’m doing these little drawings. I think the planning actually takes more time than the inking, which can happen pretty quickly once I map it all out.

In other news, I’m starting to take my extracurricular artistic development a little more seriously in the silliest way possible.

You wouldn’t know it, but I studied painting college—a medium I switched to after the printmaking professor and head of the Art Department at the time told me I probably shouldn’t be an artist (he gave me a hard candy for my trouble). I recently bought a bunch of little dolls, dressed them up, and am returning to my painting roots. It feels really nice to work in big blobs of color instead of lines. It’s an exercise I came up with in response to a common lament from art students.

One of the more aggravating generational tensions described to me by art school students is when professors describe a student’s portfolio as “too anime” without much explanation. I know what the professor means. They’re trying to get at how referencing your favorite anime or cartoons means that your style becomes a simulacrum, an imperfect copy of a copy, and you never learn to develop your own sense of judgment about where a line or a shape needs to go. And we can tell. It’s a way of working that is perfectly fine for cartooning because cartooning is closer to hand-writing than it is to drawing. I always turn to Charles Schulz’s work for an example. Those figures aren’t literally depicting children—with their little chessboard-pawn proportions and bread-loaf feet—but we read them as endearing children because we’ve come to a consensus between us, the readers, and Charles Schulz, the author, that those shapes mean those things. There are no whiskers or paws in the shape of the word “CAT” but you look at those three letters together, and you know the thing to which it refers. That’s an aspect of cartooning, too. Of course, what elevates it from mere writing is, in part, due to the fact that those little figures do not lose their meaning the more you depict them.

To really draw well, though, you have to do those fundamentals. You have to draw from life. There’s no way around it. It helps you develop a stronger sense of where you like to lay down your lines and shapes, no matter how stylized you like to work. It grows your judgment, and every artist’s best tool is their own well-honed sense of artistic discernment about their own work.

But that doesn’t mean you have to surrender the stuff you like or the things that inspire you to make art! I tell students that if they want to hold fast to their anime style AND hone their fundamentals to develop their eye as an artist, they should buy little figurines and toys of their favorite characters, prop those up against a light source, and draw them as still life objects. Like, yes, do the vases and the figure drawings and all those, I still think those are important. But if this is what you need to keep you interested in drawing from life, having some toys around is a great way to do it! Also, bless those sculptors and toy designers. They’re the best.

I think there’s something to be said about remembering to imagine the physicality of the things we draw, in all its dimensions and in the way it catches the light or casts a shadow. It helps sentimentalize things, too. Makes them feel more real, even emotionally.

Edwina died on Tuesday night, after a few final snuggles, surrounded by her favorite treats. She was about five years old, which is old for a chicken, and she had a very comfortable life. We buried her this morning. She was a good hen, J’s personal favorite.

It really feels like the end of an era. She was the last surviving member of our very first flock. After the other hens died, she really seemed to prefer the company of people over other hens. She is survived by Snooki and Nelly, our two other young birds who get along quite well together, actually.

A baby chick costs between three and five American dollars, typically. An egg-laying hen could be between twenty and fifty bucks, depending on the breed. There are roughly 26 billion chickens living in the world today, about 518 million of them here in the United States. They come pretty cheap. And a part of me was moved to cynicism, entertaining the thought that it might be strange to feel sadly over a little animal that, at most, might be roughly equivalent to the price of a fancy lunch and a coffee.

I watched the 1974 musical version of The Little Prince recently, and I remember it mostly because Bob Fosse was in it and scared the crap out of me as a kid—he played the snake that would take the Little Prince back into the sky when his body gets too heavy to take with him. Gene Wilder plays the Fox whom the Little Prince befriends and tames among a garden of roses. The Fox explains that he is like any other fox in the world, but he is changed—made special and particular to the Little Prince—with time, effort, and patience. So, too, is the Prince’s little flower special to him. Out of all the flowers in the universe, she was the one he watered and protected under a little glass jar. And that’s enough.

I knew my little hen would not live that long. It could be very easy to take a broad view of the life expectancy of a hen and distance myself from it by virtue of its mortality and its commonness. People who raise livestock do it all the time. But I also think it’s wonderful that we should all be capable of loving very small, very brief little things. Edwina is not, to my mind, the rough equivalent of a fancy lunch and a coffee. She was our little hen. For her whole life, she was ours. And I’m so happy she was here.

[foxes-that-run]

loml

The title of this song refers to both love of my life and loss of my life. Harry's only track 13 is Love of My Life. Like Harry's LOML, loml is a song about letting a long held love go. Both are regretful of love lost but neither over it. As a song about a long museship the references to both Taylor and Harry's work is dense, so this post is long. A shorter TLDNR is here. The nature of the relationship Taylor is describing is one that should have a lot of references, and it does. Each chorus refers to a different song where Harry professed love.

The initial Spotify Canvas was of Taylor in a sweater looking emotional. After Fortnight was released it was replaced with Taylor and Post inside the Style-head reading Story of Us on the road. Taylor played loml once as a surprise song on piano in Paris, with Paris in the first show after their release on 9 May 2024.

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames If we know the steps anyway? We embroidered the memories of the time I was away Stitching, “We were just kids, babe”

The first verse establishes that Taylor is singing to an old muse at the end of a breakup, or false start. She refers to them being together in their youth, of wistful memories and that the love is irreplaceable. It is full of references:

Waltzing back into rekindled flames, Taylor refers to dance as a kind of subconscious action in several songs, this reminds me most closely of 'Dancing around it' in High Infidelity and 'Dancing is a dangerous thing' in Cowboy Like Me - where the dance is also tempting a romantic relationship, they know the steps - as in they have fallen into this before.

Embroidering memories touches on the Haylor theme of stitches. 'Away is in a lot of Taylor's songs. 'Taylor' embroiders in EHC and LK posted about embroidery after TTPD

'While I was away' reminds me of AYHTS "People like you always want back the love they gave away" and Midnight Ran's "the life I gave away" - a similar idea that she was absent.

Stitching 'We were just kids babe' is a reference to Patti Smith's Biography 'Just Kids' which is her memories about her time with fellow artist Robert Mapplethorpe who died of Aids. Taylor also refers to this time in Patti Smith's life in TTPD. Patti thanked Taylor for the callout with posting a photo of her reading Dylan Thomas' biography. This line establishes this muse is a fellow young artist who Taylor had an important relationship with when they were young. Taylor & Harry have likened themselves to famous couples

I said, “I don’t mind, it takes time” I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed I felt aglow like this Never before and never since

'I don't mind, it takes time', this idea is referred to in Peter also and other Haylor songs:

Run: Piece of paper where I wrote, “I’ll wait for you”

How You Get The Girl: I would wait forever and ever

“Slut!”: Everyone wants him, that was my crime, the wrong place at the right time

Say Don’t Go: The waiting is a sadness fading into madness

"I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed" - the prologue describes three muses, as does the Fortnight MV. One has celestial imagery that links to Satellite, such as stars, comets, orbit, planet and whole sky. Starry-eyed is in a few songs including:

CIWYW - Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

Cowboy like me - Eyes full of stars

High Infidelity - Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eye

Better safe than starry eyed also reminds me of "How dare you think it's romantic / Leaving me safe and stranded" in Down Bad that refers to New Romantics "Please leave me stranded"

'Never felt aglow like this', 'never before and never since' is a glowing irreplaceable connection. Taylor described similar in:

This Love - This love is glowing in the dark

Question...? - Does it feel like everything's just like second best after that meteor strike?

[Chorus 1] If you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary You and I go from one kiss to getting married Still alivе, killing time at the cemеtery Never quite buried

I knew from one glimpse, it was legendary, we go from one kiss to getting married is a reference to Holy Ground:

“Back to a first glance feeling on New York time/ Back when you fit my poems like a perfect rhyme/ Took off faster than a green light, go : Yeah, you skip the conversation when you already know”

A similar line is also in Glitch - "Five seconds later, I'm fastening myself to you with a stitch"

‘Still alive at the cemetery’ is similar to The 1: “In my defense, I have none / For digging up the grave another time” which in turn is a reference to the OOTW/LAWYMMD music video link where Taylor from the end of 1989 is Taylor at the start of the next video.

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time

‘In your suit and tie’ is dressed for a wedding. Arriving ‘in nick of time’ is the muse interrupting a wedding saying “don’t do this there’s still time!” Which Taylor said of Harry, when describing the muse of Style and 1989 Taylor said she expected this. Here she is saying she was fooling herself.

You low-down boy, you stand-up guy You Holy Ghost, you told me I’m the love of your life You said I’m the love of your life About a million times

“Low down boy; you stand up guy” is a person who has been in Taylor’s life since they were a boy (with a dirty mouth) who has grown to be a stand up guy. They are now grown but not with her.

Taylor then refers to Harry’s music, Holy Ghost refers to Two Ghosts and refers to Love of My Life by name. In which Harry says it 5 times, he’s performed it 102 times to around 700k fans, so yeah, a lot. Note it's “said” not “told me”.

[Verse 2] Who’s gonna tell me the truth when you blew in with the winds of fate And told me I reformed you? When your impressionist paintings of heaven turned out to be fakes

Taylor refers to truth often, but usually her telling or seeing a truth, But in the Alcott the muse tells her the truth and she says she she has fallen back in love with the muse. I imagine in Taylors life many do not tell the truth, but this muse can and does. Here Taylor asks if they will still tell the truth if they are together.

The muse told Taylor she reformed them. Harry says this in Stockholm Syndrome, that he "used to sing about being free but now he has changed his mind". On 13 May 2023 Harry added Stockholm Syndrome to the HSLOT set for the last 18 shows. A song he he wrote for Taylor when they were dating and had not performed since 2018.

The impressionist paintings may refer to the Two Ghosts music video, which was or became tour screens. (Thank you @notoriousbeb) The reference to fakes is where an overture of love did not come through.

Well, you took me to hell too And all at once, the ink bleeds A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme But I’ve felt a hole like this Never before and ever since

The second half of this verse links back to past writing to each other

'And all at once, the ink bleeds' I LOVE this line so much. It has a double meaning, the ink bleeds as Taylor writes music inspired by a museship that has featured in so much of her work. The ink bleeds like emotion bleeds as the bleeding love theme.

"A conman sells a fool a get love quick scheme" this line is dense:

In Why She Disappeared, the poem played before Getaway Car in the Reputation Stadium Tour included "Wary of phone calls and promises, Charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes"

Harry and Taylor have referred to each other as robbers, thieves, cowboys and now a conman see thief theme

Harry and Taylor have both referred to themselves as a fool many times for being stuck on each other.

Never felt a hole like this before or since is crushing, it reminds me of Questions...?'s "Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that Meteor strike?"

[Chorus 2] If you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary What we thought was for all time was momentary Still alive, killing time at the cemetery Never quite buried You cinephile in black and white All those plot twists and dynamite Mr. Steal Your Girl, then make her cry You said I’m the love of your life

In the second chorus Taylor again refers to songs by Harry, but changes which ones:

Mr Steal Your Girl refers to One Directions Steal My Girl.

B&W Cinephile may refer to when Harry kept his Instagram B&W for 2 years from when 1989 was released with the line 'the rest of the world was in screaming color' it may also refer to the Treat People With Kindness music video in B&W and widescreen. Harry is also a cinephile, both in being a fan of cinema and appearing in more recent films than her actor partner at the time.

[Bridge] You shit-talked me under the table Talking rings and talking cradles I wish I could un-recall How we almost had it all Dancing phantoms on the terrace Are they second-hand embarrassed That I can’t get out of bed ‘Cause something counterfeit’s dead? It was legendary It was momentary It was unnecessary Should’ve let it stay buried

Taylor acts this lyric out in fortnight in the eras tour.

Shit-talking can mean either disparaging remarks or saying something untrue and going on about it. Talking, (or drinking) someone under the table is doing so in excess. So I take this first line 'shit-talked me under the table' to mean the muse went on saying untrue things for ages, in the context of the rest of the verse I think that is making statements of love they were not yet willing to follow through on.

Taylor sees they were so close, a similar line is in TTPD there is a similar line of 'litany of reasons we could have played for keeps this time' Taylors muse has professed love and that they are endgame but not followed through.

In the Only Angel Demo Harry sang "I must admit I married you a thousand times. Had to change my tune when I found out what it'd be like."

Counterfeit is also in Glitch "It must be counterfeit, I think there's been a glitch"

The shit-talk is rings and cradles, in a time that Taylor was disappointed a long term relationship ended another long term muse flirted with settling down but did not. Harry wore the Peace Ring and Haylor ring for years, they seemed as possible promise rings which these lines remind me of. As do songs of both which may refer to the other. The Haylor ring is featured in merchandise for TTPD and Taylor wears it in the Fortnight Music Video so it is likely this ring.

[Final Chorus] Oh, what a valiant roar What a bland goodbye The coward claimed he was a lion I’m combing through the braids of lies “I’ll never leave,” “Never mind” Our field of dreams engulfed in fire Your arson’s match, your somber eyes And I’ll still see it until I die You’re the loss of my life

The final chorus reads as a bitter disappointment of Taylors muse has meekly said they will not be with her.

Stockholm Syndrome - which Harry readded to his setlist 13 March 2023 (gone since 2018) has the line "Baby, I'll never leave if you keep holding me this way, oh o-oh" Here Taylor has compared it to what looks like a goodbye statement from someone who doesn't want to talk about it.

It is the loss of Taylor's life, one she felt at the time of writing this song was not one she would get over.

Valiant Roar

The 'valiant roar' is likely a reference to Harry's Gucci Lion ring which he has worn since 2018 and briefly lost in April 2022 at Coachella. It attracted a lot of attention until it's return when it was learned it has an inscription of 'second time's the charm'. Taylor also wore a Gucci Lion ring at Electric Lady Studios on 12 April 2023 (before heading to Florida). At that time the 1975 were in Australia and Harry was in the US after a golf tournament in Augusta. This line also reminds me of this scene in DWD which OW described as a 'primal roar' to Rolling Stone in 2022.

[slavghoul]

Hey Slav, first of all, I hope you’re doing good!

I just wanted to add something to the music topic.

I don’t understand this weird and kind of parasocial interest in TFs past.

as you’d said he surely wouldn’t be happy about this whole passiflora incident and when ever I see some “new” pictures of him pop up from when he was a literal teenager I feel so bad.

I know he’s a grown man and doesn’t need to be defended, but I just wish people would stop digging around to find the oldest and most irrelevant things about him and post it on instagram etc.

I'm guilty of such parasocial interest so it would be hypocritical of me to say I agree, but I agree with the fact it's weird 😭 If that makes sense? I'm painfully aware we're very selective with our ethics. If I started a fanpage about my neighbour they'd place a restraining order against me, but if it involves a celeb it's all fine and dandy for me to clickety clack on the keyboard all day theorizing 'how Tobias feels' about X, Y, or Z. I mean, I've literally just done that in the previous post. It's so normalized we don't even think about it. Post after and post and tweet after tweet that's all we're doing. There's an odd element of, I don't know, transactionality at play here.. the artist relies on the fan for validation and financial success, and in turn the fan derives enjoyment and a sense of connection. But then the line between appreciation and entitlement blurs, cause having invested all this time, money and, above all, emotional effort, the fan begins to feel a sense of ownership over the artist. And you may think "Pfft maybe that's the case for you, I'm not doing that" but we're all doing this subconsciously me thinks, we feel entitled to celebrity lives because we make them who they are. In turn, they must learn to live with it cause that's the Faustian bargain they had made, sad as it is.

I don't even know where I am going with this answer. I have no conclusion and no punchline. Tomorrow we'll wake up and do it all over again.

[frikatilhi]

Thanks for your answer. I’m also not trying to make this a competition, I think I’m just very sad and feeling deluded. Because while you’re right and we don’t know them and what’s going on and how much time they have, I think we can say for sure that joker out, all of them, keep making the effort to include Finland in their tours, for Jere and their Finnish fans both, while Jere has made an effort because he followed them around in Finland? Where it was literally the most convenient for him? Where the boys started almost all their tours/had it included? How many gigs did Jere have in Slovenia or even mentioned it? How many gigs did he have in his euro tour? That's like... five countries.... he's doing things that are convenient for him and Bojan makes an effort to include Finland every time while Jere has done nothing.

And when was it said he was supposed to be in London? Because Tomi was there? That doesn't mean Jere also was supposed to be there and if he really would've cared then he would've found a way to make it happen, but he hasn't and every time he's firing up your Bojere hopes by mentioning Bojan, because he knows you eat that out of his hands and tbh its just sad. Delulu doesn't hurt if you know you're clowning, but some of you thinking your delulus actually could've happened/were supposed to happen is honestly so sad to see, cause ngl, I WISH that's what would've happened as well. But it doesn't, it didn’t and it wasn't supposed to, and I can't keep making excuses for myself, cause I clearly see how this is going atm.

Wow, okay?

I know it's literally in the name we have given ourselves, but really, this is a nice hobby that isn't actually supposed to make anyone sad. In reality, whether Jere goes to Slovenia or not doesn't actually affect me or my mood. It's not... that serious? It's something we enjoy clowning about. Does this really need to be spelled out?

And about where Käärijä's gigs are... It doesn't work that way. The artists don't actually get to decide where they perform. The fact that Jere hasn't had a gig in Slovenia has nothing to do with his relationship with Bojan or Joker out, and everything to do with where venues want to book him to perform and are willing to pay enough to make it worthwhile to go there.

And vice versa, Joker out have not been in Finland so many times because they've made a special effort to proritize it, but because they are popular here and venues want to book them. They kinda have a gold record here... Unfortunately, Jere does not have that kind of pull in Slovenia.

Here is Jere saying in the UMK chat that he was supposed to go to London but couldn't.

The rest of that... oh dear.