#i blame musicals for this post

[just-a-critter]

Yeah, sex is great and all, whatever, but have you ever listened to a really good song that has a part that makes you transcend reality ?

[kettlefire]

Time forgets most (DPxDC)

I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post

°•°•°•°

The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.

Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.

Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.

The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.

Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.

When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.

Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.

As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.

Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.

On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.

Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.

The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.

That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.

The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.

He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.

Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.

Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.

Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.

Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.

Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.

The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.

A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.

The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.

Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.

Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.

It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.

But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.

Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.

He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.

It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.

It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.

Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.

The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.

Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.

A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.

The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.

Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.

Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.

Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.

As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.

Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.

It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.

Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.

It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.

The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.

It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.

After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.

Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.

Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.

Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.

They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.

The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.

At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.

This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.

When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.

A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.

That was until Hal saw him.

Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.

Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.

A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.

The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.

Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.

Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.

Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.

The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.

Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.

Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...

Or...

Or...

He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.

That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.

Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.

Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.

Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.

[offonaherosjourney]

So what if I want to headcanon Grace Chastity as queer because in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals, Paul's coworker, Bill, tells his daughter Alice that he wished she would date someone like Grace Chastity (to which Alice replies that no way because Grace Chastity is a nerdy prude)

[mochiwrites]

gentle touch of morning

( a small scarian epic au piece <3 reblogs do more than likes! )

It’s funny. 

Over the twelve long years Scar spent fighting, leading his men into battle, the thought that kept him going was his eventual homecoming. Every waking thought was of his husband and son, and Scar’s reason for living, for breathing, was his family. As he sailed rocky waters, faced monsters and gods alike, lost men after men, Scar wished for nothing more than to be home, to awake with his husband sleeping beside him. 

But as he stands in his home, the one he most intimately knows, Scar feels… wrong. Out of place. He’d woken up early, savoring the sight of Grian’s sleeping face (he could never get tired of it), and felt so restless that staying in bed for any longer seemed impossible. So Scar took to walking around his home. 

He and Grian built this place up, together. The memories are some that Scar looks back on fondly. He could never forget it, no matter how much time he spent away from it. Scar only fears that it has forgotten him. 

Scar takes easy steps, walking and reacquainting himself. He notes the pictures, most of them being of his son. He hardly sees Grian in any of them, perhaps one or two, less than a handful. And the ones that Grian is in, his smile doesn’t light up his face. It makes Scar frown. 

He wanders for a bit, traversing each winding hallway with careful movements. It’s as if he fears the house may collapse at any moment, or some attacker may jump from the shadows, perhaps a god will catch him off guard and finish him off. Not even in his home does he feel the full safety he’s supposed to. These walls feel foreign, unfamiliar. Even if he can picture everything clearly in his mind, knows this place like the back of his hand. Scar still feels like a stranger. 

Eventually, he finds himself in the kitchen. He pauses in the doorway, catching sight of another person. 

His son. 

His little Pitta. 

Well, not as little anymore, as a young boy at fourteen. But to Scar it still feels like he’s just an infant that he could cradle in his arms. Another thing time robbed him of. So many missed moments, opportunities, to watch his son grow. And while Scar knows that there are still many years to come, to see, a piece of him mourns the time he lost.

For a moment, Scar keeps quiet. He watches his son, taking in his dark brown hair and hazel colored eyes. He’s the striking image of both Scar and Grian somehow, even if they aren’t related to him. But Scar loves him all the same; would move mountains to give him whatever he needed. He can’t help but wonder what kind of person his son is, what he likes and dislikes. Does he resent Scar for leaving? Does he consider Scar his father, or a stranger who left a loving husband alone for years on end? He doesn’t want to find out. Not now. 

Scar stands there until he can’t anymore, finding hazel eyes landing on him. He watches the way in which Pitta’s eyes light up, turning all shiny and bright when he notices his father. He turns away from the counter, abandoning the slices of bread he had taken out. He smiles, and gods, does his smile look like Grian’s. “Papa!” Pitta greets, the timbre of his voice cheerful and soft. 

“Hey, Pitta,” Scar returns, heart melting each time he’s reminded that he’s finally returned home. He never thought it would happen, that maybe it’d take him longer, or maybe something would strike him down on the way back. But against all odds, fourteen years, and Scar is home. His son stands in front of him. 

“What’re you doing awake? Is dad up too?” Pitta questions, raising a brow at him. 

“Uh…” Scar blanks, unsure of what to say. It’s not like he’s going to tell the truth, Pitta shouldn’t have to worry about him. Scar has already caused him enough pain, there’s no need to cause more now that he’s actually here. “Gria— your dad’s still asleep,” he stammers. The words feel awkward on his tongue, like they shouldn’t be there. This life of domesticity… he doesn’t know how to go about it. It isn’t just some enemy he can cut down. 

The very thought makes him nauseous. 

“Oh!” Pitta blinks at the response. “Well, that’s… good.” He nods to himself awkwardly, and Scar hides a grimace. 

He… really doesn’t know how to interact with his son. 

There’s this dark curdling of doubt in his mind that begins to creep up, settling over him. He’s afraid. Worried that this is one thing he’ll never overcome. It’s a familiar feeling, an old friend, a once enemy turned begrudging shadow. It’s a feeling he experienced in battle, traversing home, taking his castle back from scoundrels that dare to stain it. But there is a new fear that joins it, overwhelming like a tidal wave. 

Does he even know how to be a father? 

Scar feels his breath sharpen just a tad, skipping a beat and hastening. He can feel hands curling around his throat, beginning to press into his skin. He feels it tightening on him, the grip firm. The pressure starts off as something light, until the fingers of Fear dig deeper with each shakingly quiet breath. It gets stronger and stronger, straining his lungs until he can feel his throat being squeezed, choked. 

“Papa?” Pitta’s voice breaks him from the spiraling thoughts, from the overwhelming fear sneaking in. 

The hands around his neck relax, and the terror recedes, sinking back into the depths of his mind momentarily. He allows himself a moment to breathe, a chance to suck in a soft breath and recenter. His vision clears, and he becomes aware of the way his heartbeat pounds in his ears, loud like a drum. 

He manages a smile, “I’m uh, gonna go check and see if our Sleeping Beauty is awake.” Keeping his eyes trained on his son, Scar tries to maintain his light smile. He takes a few small steps back, slipping into a casual mask. He’s gotten quite good at it over the years of putting on a brave face. “Be right back.”

Pitta watches him, brows creasing in concern as he goes. “Oh… okay,” he answers, sounding resigned as Scar retreats. 

Scar turns around, and brings himself back to the beautiful olive tree where his Grian is fast asleep. The sun shines down on him, cutting through the green leaves. The light spills into their bed, painting a halo in the soft yet sandy blond locks of Grian’s hair. He rests in their bed, eyes shut and face relaxed. His body is curled somewhat, the blanket tucked just over his shoulders. 

Staring at him, taking in the near angelic sight, Scar takes a few breaths to calm himself. He walks over to their bed, sitting down on the edge, right beside Grian. He contents himself with just sitting there, watching the rise and fall of Grian’s chest. It feels a little easier to breathe, with the love of his life right here, peaceful. Scar can almost allow himself to pretend he lives in a world where he never went to war, where he never had to leave his family behind. He can almost allow himself to pretend he was the husband and father he should have been. 

Chest aching and overflowing with doubt and regret, Scar reaches out. Tenderly, Scar brushes some of Grian’s hair away from his face. He ever so softly tangles his fingers in the silky strands as he rhythmically cards through his hair. Scar’s expression softens, chest swelling with love for the man before him. He drags the pads of his fingertips along Grian’s head, feeling the soft locks under his touch. 

He can’t imagine what it was like, doing so much alone for so long. Scar has always believed Grian to be strong, the strongest person he knows. But this? Scar doesn’t think anyone could compare, not even the gods. 

Not in the way it matters, at least. 

His thumb idly strokes Grian’s cheekbone, loving and sweet. “I’d be lost without you, my light,” he murmurs. Because it’s true. Scar would’ve given up a long, long time ago if he didn’t have Grian and Pitta to come home to. Grian is his rock, his eye of the storm, his compass. Scar is caught within Grian’s orbit, forever wrapped up in him. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for this man. Grian kept their home in one piece. He raised their son. He handled whatever it was that Scar couldn’t in his time away. Grian held out hope for fourteen years that Scar would come back to him. 

Scar owes him everything and more. But most importantly, Scar owes him his love. And by the gods will he offer every last ounce of it, every drop. Scar is a man. No general, and certainly no hero. He is just a man who wants to pour his heart and soul out for his spouse. Scar is just a man in love. 

Beneath his touch, Grian’s face twitches, and he begins to stir. “Mmm… Scar?” he mumbles, still groggy and waking up. 

“Good morning, my love.” Scar smiles at him, brushing away a particular curl of hair before stroking his cheek. “Sleep well?”

“‘ink so, yes. It was warm with you,” Grian answers, leaning into the hand on his cheek. “What’re you awake for?” 

Scar pauses, if only briefly. “Uh, well, y’know. Just admiring my pretty husband while I have the chance,” he answers, which isn’t entirely a lie. 

Grian looks at him with clear suspicion, but doesn’t push. Instead, he sighs quietly as pushes himself to sit up. “You can do that when I’m awake too,” he teases, leaning to press their lips together. Scar is more than happy to sink into it, using the hand on Grian’s cheek to angle his head slightly, deepening it. The kiss is sweet, loving. It’s slow and patient, carrying the patience of fourteen years within it.

When they pull away, Scar rests their foreheads together. “I guess I can, yeah,” he agrees softly. “Mind if I take a few more minutes to admire him?” 

Grian smiles, kissing the corner of his mouth in return. “I suppose.”  Scar simply smiles, and gods is he happy to be home. No amount of fear could ever leave him unhappy to be back with the loves of his life. Never. 

[piosplayhouse]

Lately I've been converting people to my Jiang Cheng Superstar agenda (mdzs Jesus Christ superstar au) so here's just letting everyone know that Heaven on Their Minds is Such a yunmeng bros song

[salamispots]

my penchant for having dreams about hands/hand holding hfgjfhjkdf

[kiwibirb1]

"Become the monster to everyone but us". Is it really everyone but, Odysseus? Listen to the chants surrounding you, what they call out, how everyone calls you a monster. There is no but.

[princyvish]

Fellas, is it gay to reminisce over the guy who saved you two years ago?

(song that inspired this under cut)

[codecicle]

ignore how crunchy this is i tried SO hard to get it to look decent im sorry </3

anyway my little goodbye and thank you to @kisser-of-jrwi-characters for running such an amazing tournament!! this was a horrible experience and i would never go through it again thank you so much fr dude :D

[wollerjoseph]

such a vibe, my musically talented king😍🎤🎹

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

“If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame” ABNORMAL ABOUT THAT LINE

[deffiiance]

his job is tambourine ✨

[thisfuckingdork]

It’s like 1:30am and I’m spiralling so have an obligatory “songs that make me think of Echo characters” post. Enjoy! Flynn Moore - Otter by Don Harvey is such a Chase and Flynn song (specifically TJ’s route. Desperately need an AMV of Chase and Flynn having fun in the lake to this song, interspersed with how TJ’s route actually ended) - Cruising by Don Harvey is a Flynn and Ryan song - (Honestly Flynn just has such strong Don Harvey energy but no one knows this cause Don Harvey has like 16 monthly listeners its insane) Jenna Begay - Blow My Brains Out by Tikkle Me is just so Jenna (especially Jenna and Heather omg) Carl Hendricks - Prologue by Chase Petra - Bugbear by Chloe Moriondo - Sweet Hibiscus Tea by Penelope Scott - (he’s just so sadgirl) Chase Hunter - Labyrinth by Miracle Musical is just so fucking ‘echo protagonist’. Like Chase, Samuel, Mr Font, and Cameron - Stupid Intruder by The Vincent Black Shadow is strong Chase and “””Samuel””” - Umami by Go Child! Leo Alvarez - Two Birds by Regina Spector (I forget who but I saw someone on here say this and they were so right) - Don’t Ever Leave Me by Sharon Prabhakar - (Of fucking course Blurry by Lilybug and Scars by Splingus but I don’t think that a song on the OST nor a fan song count here) TJ Hess - If I Killed Someone for You by Alec Benjamin (I found it on a TJ Chase playlist and they were correct) Sydney Brosnon - Poor Isaac by The Airborne Toxic Event - (wasn’t gonna do Sydney but this song came on while I was making this and holy fguck)

It is now like ten past 2 I need to sleep, thank you for reading my Echo music thoughts I guess.

[umbraastaff]

you can't know me (i love you)

a playlist for barry & lucretia on faerûn

Spotify | YouTube

Monster | dodie tell me again about how it hurts / being awfully loud for an introvert / get out of my room, smile wiped clean / isn't it weird to be so mean?

The Moment I Said It | Imogen Heap it's not even light out / you've somewhere to be / no hesitation / i've never seen you like this / you're scaring me

All Things End | Hozier if there was anyone to ever get through this life / with their heart still intact, they didn't do it right / the last time i felt your weight on my chest, you said / "we didn't get it right, love, but we did our best"

Dead Hearts | Stars please, please tell me what they look like / did they seem afraid of you? / they were kids that i once knew / they were kids that i once knew

I Of The Storm | Of Monsters and Men i am a stranger / i am an alien / inside a structure / are you really gonna love me when i'm gone? / with all my thoughts / and all my faults

Where We Belong | Shayfer James do you recall the day when we went wrong? / time is flying, ease your worried mind, we'll be alone / where we belong

Après Moi | Regina Spektor i must go on standing / you can't break that which isn't yours / i must go on standing / i'm not my own, it's not my choice

No Light, No Light | Florence + The Machine you can't choose what stays and what fades away / and i'd do anything to make you stay

[goginaporter]

one thing I’ve seen a lot of portwells/ej stans mention is that the wildcats were “bad friends” for not helping ej with his stress/pinning more specific blame on gina for not helping her boyfriend when he was stressed. for one, this is kinda blatantly not true. besides the fact that ej refused to ask them for help (and understandably so) by not revealing that he was director at the beginning of 302 or inviting miss jenn to outsource help, for example, most of them helped him/offered to help in one way or another. gina constantly shared her faith in his abilities and even offered to step back on their relationship while at camp to allow him more free time. val appeared to fulfill a lot of the directing role with casting and helping to organize the readthrough. maddox helped with organizing auditions. carlos (along with val) organized rcosl to help get more drama. I could share more examples but they serve to highlight that when ej was drowning, he was not left at sea. a lot of his stress was intrinsic, and even all the help in the world was going to prevent it because of pressure he imposed on himself. to blame his friends, who were there to have fun, with the only responsibility on their plate being to learn their lines, is a misunderstanding of why he was stressed and how he could be helped. the best thing they could do for him was learn their roles for opening night. in fact, miss jenn literally tells him “if they know their lines, they’ll be fine.” i also wanna mention that ej didn’t really seem to be failing at directing. it was more of a combination of personal doubt and the introduction of the production being filmed. the latter likely placed stress on all of them and there was nothing that they could really do to change that for themselves, let alone ej. anyways, all this is leading up to my main question: what did you guys want the wildcats to do for ej? take on directing parts of the show while also learning their lines in under two weeks? magically find him a way to please his father? the stress that ej was under sucked. but it wasn’t the fault of his friends, nor could it disappear in the presence of sweet words. I just wanted to pose this inquiry to his stans and open it up for respectful debate!

[nsfwitchy2]

I will not lie I actually think making fun of people for the simple act of enjoying Taylor swifts music is. Bad. Like I don’t think you can be anti cringe culture and then make fun of people for just…. Enjoying Taylor swifts music.