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#that was like ‘not all of the emo trinity can exist at once’?
binary-moons · 1 year
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holy shit fall out boy releasing new music actually killed him
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as a follow up on my last post I also want to add that to suggest bands/musicians like evanescence, avril lavigne, and green day joining the emo trinity is kind of missing the point and history of the emo trinity existing. it formed a trinity because usually if you liked one of those bands, you ended up liking the other two, or were in extremely similar circles (esp online). the term itself is from a specific era
green day is from a different generation altogether that cannot be classified as emo (punk, pop punk, etc), evanescence has that emo taste but again isn't really part of that same exact scene or fanbase, and avril lavigne... basically all the same things, plus she isn't a band, which is where the "trinity" aspect finds its roots -- groups of people are more appealing to a wider audience, and those members can interact with the other bands, etc. if that makes sense.
I don't think of paramore as part of a "new" emo trinity, rather they just should have been there in the first place. there's a tumblr joke out there about paramore being "girl fall out boy" (every band but it's fob meme or something idr), and while that's a little blegh because they are so much more than that (misogyny check), it proves a point. they are a lot like fob and vice versa when it comes to certain key qualities, and that's important. that bandom and fob's have never been completely different. I'm seeing posts all over getting excited about fob, paramore, and mcr being active all at the same time -- that's not happening with the other bands people suggest. and it's not even an echo chamber situation, because I have never once engaged with paramore on its own since I don't consider myself a fan. it's just naturally there unlike the others. the panic fandom (the current brendon urie stans, specifically) disengaged from the emo trinity a while ago, and paramore has been there this whole time. so of course it makes sense that they can slip right into the groove of things.
they're not replacing p!atd, they're filling a hole that was meant for them
side note: if you think that the emo trinity bands need to stay consistently emo or get out, you're missing the whole point and I don't know how to explain that to you
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existential-essays · 3 months
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*G Note intensifies*
Dear reader,
If there's something I don't like music-wise, besides the entirety of the dupstep genre, it's what I consider generic-sounding songs.
Of course, as Chat GPT says, music taste is subjective, so what sounds generic to me might not be the same as what sounds generic to you, but there are certain production trends across all genres that don't sit well with me.
B-sides and most independent independent artists' songs are more prone to be a hit or miss for me exactly because they use those same production techniques I don't like.
But do you know what rock band has never sounded generic to me and has been able to impress me with each and every single one of their (own) spectacular songs?
Well, besides Rammstein and System of a Down, it's My Chemical Romance! My personal favorite from the Emo Trinity. Or quartet, if we also count 21 Pilots, another favorite of mine.
I somehow discovered MCR's 'Helena' back in 2015 as I was coming out of my Pop & Dance music phase to dive into the Rock world. I think I didn't like it at first, but it grew on me, and I've been in love with their entire discography (and existence) ever since.
As a big fan of them, I've been dying to have one of their albums or merch in my hands. So I almost fainted when I found out that this online store that was selling the CD version of The Black Parade a few months back was accepting special orders for Valentine's Day!
After pondering my options for a bit, I reached out to them and discovered that there was a special offer in which I could snag the CD version of Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge and The Black Parade bundled up at a lower price, and didn't think a third time before saying yes.
The CDs arrived just in time for my bestie Nin and I to go out on Valentine's Day to pick up the CDs and have a nice brunch together. It was like making two of my teenage dreams come true all at once, minus my job starting in the afternoon.
Now, here are a few pics I took that day as soon as I got home:
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I regret nothing.
In terms of judging the book by its cover, the album art is beautiful and completely worth displaying somewhere. I particularly like the TCFSR cover, so much that I drew it once when I was a teen (and lost it :c), but I love that TBP has three times the drawings that TCFSR does:
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C'est magnifique.
It's something a Rammstein album couldn't have outdone because, even though their music is amazing, their art leans more toward the grotesque.
In terms of music, all I know is they have a unique sound to them, and you most likely will enjoy it as long as you like any of these music genres from their Wikipedia page:
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According to my ears, both albums' songs could easily be listened to on their own or on shuffle, as if they were singles, at the same time they can be listened to in sequence to follow their respective stories, which is quite a feat. 
You can tell that they belong to the same artist without going overboard like AC/DC, who are known for their production consistency and structural simplicity, which can make a lot of people choose about 2-3 songs to listen to and drop the rest. Well, as Angus Young himself said:
I'm tired of people saying we have ten albums that sound the same. We have eleven albums that sound the same.
That'd be me.
Ok, now, as I was saying, let's get to the juicy part: the lore.
Both records are what we can consider a "concept album", those "whose tracks hold a larger purpose or meaning collectively than they do individually", according to Wikipedia. And they have nothing to do with each other.
I feel like TBP is concepting more than TCFSR with how the music videos and songs are much more related to the core story.
Anyway.
In case you didn't already know about this, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge is widely thought to be a continuation of their previous and very first album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love.
I mean, based on this Reddit reply I just found, it looks like Gerard's ONLY weak point was giving these two concept albums a solid story progression, allowing us to theorize at will, but he did confirm what the real ending was in this 2005 interview.
So, the way I understood this, there's this pair of lovers who get in a gunfight, which is believed to be the same one from 'Demolition Lovers', right? Per 'Helena' and 'Cemetery Drive', it looks like the female lover dies, but the male lover doesn't, and misses her so much he goes on a downward spiral full of drugs and other ways of self-destruction. He makes a deal with the devil where he gets to see the female lover again in exchange for the souls of 1000 evil men, a long quest that begins with 'Give 'Em Hell, Kid'.
The male lover seems to realize he's far too gone by the time he has already unalived 999 evil men and, thus, became an evil man himself. So he unalives himself, completing his side of the deal, and either the woman goes back to life without him, or they do reunite... in Hell. 
Way knows - pun intended. Either way, it's fire.
Now, The Black Parade.
What an album.
As usual, no one knows for sure what's the actual linear full story, but the thing is there's this main character known as "The Patient":
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He ✨ flatlines ✨ of cancer from the very beginning of the album (see 'The End.' - the irony). The remaining of the songs talk about his reflections on the life he lived, whatever 'Teenagers' represents in the plot, and his journey navigating the afterlife, represented by a "black parade" that resembles the marching band his father took him to see in the city when he was a young boy.
Because of 'Sleep' and 'Mama', I thought this patient guy was a war veteran. And I'll keep thinking that because they kinda make sense together, even if it's not official.
Like Mic The Snare said, TBP was indeed one of the most memorable events in Rock history with its level of theatricality and visual presentation almost comparable to Michael Jackson or Queen themselves.
As a side note, until very recently, I had no clue that Liza Minnelli, whose vocals are featured in 'Mama', was Judy Garland's mom!
Alright, now, to sum things up, I don't have a ton more to say that hasn't already been covered by other folks, because I haven't really watched or read that many My Chemical Romance interviews. I feel like I'm every fandom's ghost, you know?
But, these two albums are pretty special to me. They got me through tough times, kinda like how K-Pop did a few years down the road.
Hopefully soon I'll complete my collection by getting my hands on Danger Days, Bullets and, maybe, Conventional Weapons! I'd consider the live albums, too, but... haven't decided.
So, what about you? What were the first one or two music albums you owned physically?
Until next time!
- N
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planetsam · 5 years
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Alex breaks the second prison and winds up on the wrong end of another alien’s abilities. Fighting on his own is nothing new, neither is fighting his own body. Being trapped there by an alien is. Will he be able to make it back?
Day 3: Alex interacting with others he hasn’t yet. (Isobel) 
He’s in a corner of his mind he’s never been in before. Or that’s what he thinks. He’s not entirely sure. There’s just white on white on white, he has a feeling that the walls go on forever. Alex is new to the different powers that the aliens possess, but he can guess who is doing this from the snippets of conversations that he’s overheard. When he turns around, he’s not surprised to see Isobel behind him. He is moderately surprised to see she’s in a pvc catsuit, a pair of tiny sunglasses perched on her nose and her hair in a severe ponytail. 
“Why are you dressed like Trinity?” He asks. 
“Sometimes it’s soothing to see people dressed in familiar things,” she says. 
“Really?”
Isobel takes off the sunglasses and catches him with a withering look. Alex has been through a lot in his own head, he’s more than happy to stare her down. This seems to catch her slightly off guard, but not enough to deter her from giving him a truly predatorily smile. Alex has yet to see Max or Isobel in their natural elements. Hell, he barely has seen Michael in his. But something about this makes him feel wary, even of being in his own head. 
“No,” she says, “Kyle seems to think you don’t want me in your head.”
“He’s right,” Alex says. 
“So I compromised by putting us in kind of an in between place,” she says, folding her arms, “wake up and we can leave.” 
Alex glares at her.
“You think I want to be stuck here?”
“Do you?”
“No!”
Isobel gives him a long, hard look but Alex refuses to quake under it. He’s been staring down monsters since he was a kid, she doesn’t even register on that scale even though the logical part of him points out that she could kill him if she wanted to. He gets the impression that she doesn’t. Or she does, but she won’t. Instead she glances around at the white boxed place as if considering something before looking back at him. Alex knows what she’s going to say before she says it, but it still catches him off guard. 
“What are your intentions with my brother?” She asks.
“Seriously? You’re giving me the ‘don’t break my brothers heart or I’ll end you’ talk while I’m stuck in my head?” Isobel looks at him steadily, “I don’t have any intentions with him, we aren’t together.”
She considers him for a moment and then a chair folds up from nowhere and she sits on it, crossing her legs. He knows a predator gaze when he sees it and fights against the urge to fold. He’s not going to be threatened in his own mind, furthermore not by one of Michael’s siblings. His relationship with Michael is something he’s guarded his entire life. It’s not something he’s about to involve other people in. Isobel has terrifying control over this blank space and Alex’s senses kick in, immediately telling him he needs to get the hell out or establish some kind of strategy. Nothing is usable as far as he can tell, but he’s worked magic on blank screens before. He looks around and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Isobel slip her hand into the catsuit and pull out a book that definitely couldn’t have been there before. She flicks the page with her perfectly manicured fingers. 
“What is that?” He asks finally.
“This?” She says, pointing at the book, “you mean this book?”
“Isobel,” He says with a warning tone that makes her glare. 
“Oh you wouldn’t be interested in this,” she says, flicking the pages, “since you and Michael aren’t together and you have no intentions with him, I guess you have no interest in embarrassing photos of baby Michael.”
Alex stares at her. Michael had a wildly unhappy childhood. There’s no way those exist. There’s no way Isobel would psychically have an album of the few happy moments in that childhood. It’s a low move but even Alex can’t deny it’s effectiveness. Especially when another chair folds itself up out of seemingly nowhere. Isobel does her best not to look positively gleeful as he comes over and sits down. He doesn’t know how to answer her question but she seems to have dropped it in favor of embarrassing her sibling. There’s something so achingly familiar about that, it almost makes Alex miss his siblings. Almost.
“Okay so this is when we came out of the pods,” she says, “Michael came out first, then me, then Max,” she says, showing him a picture of the three of them in a pile in front of them. They’re all happy and surprised, thrilled not to be alone. He immediately picks Michael out, “he came out with those curls,” Isobel says.
She flips the page to them all wrapped in towels, seeing each other for the first time cleaned off. This time the curls are slicked down but Alex is too familiar with that surprised, happy expression to not recognize it. Isobel shows him other pictures, but some are blurred out. Alex knows those are ones she doesn’t think are shareable. Given where they are in the timeline and what he knows, he can guess at them. She flips the page and grins at the last picture, holding it out to him. Alex looks at it. The three of them are on a picnic blanket and it’s the picture of a long summer day in the desert. They’re all laughing at something but Michael’s head is twisted away. Alex tries not to look too hard at the mostly healed burn on his forearm. His eyes narrow as he realizes what or who Michael is looking at in the distance.
“The day Michael discovered he liked boys,” Isobel says, “or a boy,” she smiles, “look at you about to go full emo. Black in the middle of the summer. I always liked your style.”
“I didn’t know he saw me that day,” Alex admits finally.
He remembers that day. How he was already well into feeling self conscious about his body and sexuality. How when he was a kid, girls being gross was fine but now they weren’t to everyone else. Gross wasn’t the right term, but he had come to the realization he didn’t think they were as no-gross as everyone else. He didn’t want to do any of the things most of his friends wanted to. Or, he didn’t want to do them with girls. He’d much rather do them with boys. He was out in the desert just to try and clear his head when he saw the Evans siblings with a new boy. A new boy who had no way of knowing that he had these thoughts but would soon enough. Max Evans probably told him. So Alex had just walked away. Never once considering that the curly haired, hazel eyed boy would be feeling something similar.
“I think you should wake up and talk to him,” Isobel voices.
“I tried,” Alex says, “he didn’t want to talk.”
“One time,” she says, “I know that probably threw you for a loop—“
“Am I supposed to be alright with him making out with someone else?” He cuts in. Isobel sighs but the stab of his very good point is short lived. 
“Have you told him you want to be monogamous?” Alex glares, “or have you told him you don’t want him making out with other people?”
“I don’t control him,” he says, handing her the picture but she refuses to take it.
“You know he’s trying to get your attention, don’t you?” She says, “you’re lucky he’s an alien, it’s a miracle he doesn’t have an std by now,” she gets to her feet, “I have to go, your mind is starting to fight me and I don’t want to go there out of respect to you,” she says, “maybe you don’t know what you want from him, but I think you do. Just like I think he knows what he wants from you. Love is scary, but if it’s less scary than not being with the person, it might be worth a shot,” she shrugs, “but what do I know? I married a serial killer without realizing it.”
It’s deceptive how she says it, but Alex recognizes the defensive humor for what it is. In that moment he thinks he might understand Isobel better than he thought. 
“I unknowingly made out with an alien in the ufo emporium,” he points out. 
Isobel laughs.
“I always knew I liked you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll kill you for him, but I would prefer not to,” she looks around, “try to wake up soon. You and Michael could both use the rest,” she adds ambiguously, putting her sunglasses on. She pulls out a 90s style phone and puts it to her ear, “dial me out.”
“You need a land line!” He calls after her as she vanishes.
Alex looks down at the picture still in his hand and wonders what he’s gotten himself into. And how the hell he gets himself out. 
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intotheventures · 5 years
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KH2 is fanfiction (Revision + Addendum)
A response to khtrinityftw (BTW the REAL trinity is Birth By Sleep + 1 + Chain of Memories).
It contains:
- Yaoi bait: Yeah, there’s a difference between male relationships that fangirls seize on for yaoi shipping and relationships that are actively being written in a way that baits them. Sora/Riku and Axel/Roxas in KH2 was not in any way intentionally written to deliberately draw these fangirls in, Nomura didn’t even verbally acknowledge that he was aware of KH fangirls’ existence until after KH2 was already made. If you compare Sora and Riku’s dynamic in KH2 to their dynamic in 3D, there’s a very vivid difference. One is natural, and the other is true “yaoi bait”.
What is natural about Sora falling to his knees for Riku? Nothing. What did the added AkuRoku scenes in Final Mix add to the story? Nothing. Also “he made me feel like I had a heart” is cringy. 
- Shallow “badass” presentation: This is one of the terms this loser has NEVER defined, nor why it’s so bad, nor how the other games in the series beyond that he will defend at every turn in his never-ending quest to scream into the wind that KH2 is the devil are any better despite having even more blatant “badass” presentations.
Have you looked at a single reaction command? Sora chopping a building in half isn’t a shallow “badass” presentation? It’s all style, no substance, it’s more blatant than anything in any other KH game.
- Flanderized characters plus emo MC (Roxas): Again, no examples of how characters are Flanderized, nor anything backing up his repeated claims of how Roxas, a character with a very legitimate grievance to suffer angst over, is “emo”.
Sora became more idiotic (he wasn’t this dumb in DDD, contrary to popular belief, he was just blissfully unaware and let his guard down) and hostile, constantly taunting and insulting his opponents for little to no reason (contrary to popular belief, he was not like this in the other games), Kairi became a shallow love interest (was better in the manga though but not like she was in KH1′s game, unfortunately), Riku was more sullen, Namine only appeared for brief scenes and had little personality, and Roxas’ angst was really overdone. 
- Gary-Stu MC (Sora): No examples of how he’s a Gary-Stu, or if he is then how he isn’t one in the other games.
Too often he just magically solved the problems of various Disney characters, like Simba. He’s not a Gary-Stu in DDD because he ended up failing the exam after Xehanort rigged it, and his idiocy cost him greater than in KH2.
- Rushed pacing: No clarifications at to what he means and how it’s rushed (if anything, I’d say the pace can be too slow at points), or why he obsessively tries to tear down KH2 to prop up games with unquestionably worse pacing (like KH3, the game whose story barely has anything progressing in the beginning and middle, just the end.)
KH3 connects all of the worlds and is better at not having filler. A lot of things are just brought up and either resolved too quickly (like the “I can’t use the Keyblade!” scene or just dropped (”While you're there, the nature of that world may tempt you to do something dark. You must resist that temptation at all costs!”).
- A large cast, yet 90% of it is the Sora show: So 90% of the game is about the main character you play as for literally 90% of it!? No shit, Sherlock! And once again, failure to define how this sets KH2 apart from every other game where Sora is the main character.
None of the rest of the cast really contribute anything, most are just plot devices to pad out the character count. Kairi didn’t do anything better than she did in 1, Riku’s screentime was mostly spent lamenting about his very existence, HPO did nothing anyone else couldn’t have done, same with Namine, their roles are mostly interchangeable and obligatory. Plus KH2 had a much larger cast of OCs than KH1 + CoM so it's a much more glaring flaw.
Forgot to add a few more:
- Submit your own character: The Organization, as well as Hayner, Pence and Olette.
- Sex scene: Obviously none, but Kairi’s panties are close enough. In no other game was she used for fanservice/sex appeal.
- Dialogue that is either cringe or OOC: There is so much of this I don’t know where to begin.
“That was undeniable proof that we totally owned you lamers!” (This sounded outdated in 2006) “Sorry, “Mommy”, your poopsies are toast!” (Cringe) “Hmph, maybe you should have kept some to yourself.” (This maybe fits Riku, but NOT Sora!) “You gonna cry?!” (OOC, and doesn’t make sense in context. Frustrated Jacob even made fun of this line.) ”I guess you think you can psych me out by saying really random stuff!” (Like the above, FJ made fun of it.) “Tough talk for someone who stood on the sidelines while his Nobody flunkies did all the fighting!” (WTF)
"[Maleficent]’s toast.” (Cringe, doesn’t sound cool in the least.) “Lowlife.” (OOC) “I bet you can’t even fight!” (OOC, just sounds like a prick) “Just give it a rest! You're Nobodies! You don't even exist! You're not sad about anything!” (He says this after meeting Axel, Roxas, and Namine. Plot hole + OOC) “Then stop moping and DO something!” (later) “Why stick around if he’s not even gonna try?” (later) “C’mon, Goofy.” (This is too OOC to be Sora.)
It also has elements of a songfic (KH2 Atlantica).
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awkwarddezzy · 7 years
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It Will Always Just Be Me
Pairing: Dan x reader
Genre: romance, smut, angst, fluff (though it’s mostly angst)
Song: Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off by Panic! At the Disco [I’ll never get over how long this song title is]
TW: swearing (aka I lost count of how many times I used the word ‘fuck’)
Word count: 3,212
For @phanny-fics writing competition. This song has been a guilty pleasure of mine lately, and my mind screamed ‘FANFIC THIS.’ Cause you know, this is what happens when I turn to the emo trinity to keep my writing juices flowing. Also, on a random note, when I Googled the lyrics for this song, I literally just typed in ‘panic at the disco lying is’ because there was no way in hell I was gonna type in the entire song title in the search bar. 😅
When she shows up knocking at my door, I’m this close to slamming the door on her face. For an entire week, I didn’t receive a call, text, or any form of communication from her. Not only did she make me crave for her attention, but her ignorance made me feel pathetic. Here I am, pinning my heart for the girl of my dreams. Too bad I’m too stubborn to see that my dream girl is also my worst nightmare.
“What are you doing here?”
She glides into my flat, initially not answering my question. She’s wearing those pair of heels, the black “fuck me” heels that she purposefully teases me with. And her dress… damn it, she shouldn’t be wearing such alluring clothing in public.
“Why do you think I’m here?”
I lock the door. Thank god Phil is spending the entire day with PJ. I don’t need Phil to pity me again for having a weak resolve.
“Who is it this time?”
“What makes you think there’s a who?”
I laugh bitterly. Does she think I’m blind? “I know you, (Y/N). Who’s the poor sap this time?”
She pouts, dropping her purse on the floor. “His name doesn’t matter.”
“So there is a someone.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It is if you’re just here to fuck me again,” I snap.
She tenses. Gotcha. She’s way too transparent.
“Stop talking.” She steps closer to me until the front of our bodies touch. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later. For now-” she snakes her arm around my neck, “Let’s have some fun.”
I have to resist. This isn’t worth it. I’m only going to be left with disappointment again.
“Look at me, Dan.” Her thumb brushes along the corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been busy-”
“Bullshit. If you were busy, you were busy finding another fuck buddy.” I try to put some distance between our bodies, though she won’t let me. Her arms stay around my neck and now her breasts are squished against my chest.
“It’s not like that.” Her voice trembles and vulnerability replaces her apparent lust. “You know I want to be with you. But we can’t be together. My parents don’t like you. Your fans will bash us.”
Shit, I hate when she pulls that card. She isn’t wrong. Her parents aren’t entirely accepting of the idea of us as anything more than friends. The Phan shippers and zealous fangirls will definitely direct flames toward her. As much as I loathe her behavior, I know she’s doing this to protect my reputation. She’s scared of her feelings for me, so she’s quick to say yes to any man who shows any interest to her, even when all those men only want her for her body.
I’m not that kind of man. I want all of her and so much more.
“It always boils down to that reason, huh?”
She nods. Her dropped guard disappears and her (E/C) irises are back to their lustful state. “Let’s forget all that for now. Please?”
I can’t say no to her.
I cup her cheeks and mash our lips together. She groans, tangling her fingers in my hair. She steps backward until we both fall on the sofa. Our mouths disconnects, and her tantalizing smile makes me forget my resistance.
Our clothes are discarded, left as a messy heap on the floor.
Her heels stay on. If she wears “fuck me” heels, she’s going to get fucked while wearing them.
When we’re naked, I tell her to bend over the arm of the sofa.
“We’re doing this my way,” I whisper huskily in her ear.
She obeys, and I bite my lip at the sight of her wet and ready for me. She yelps when my palm spanks her ass.
“This is for fucking someone behind my back.” Another slap. “This is for making me go seven days without you.” Slap. “Seven.” Slap. “Goddamn.” Slap. “Days.” Slap. “And this is just because I wanted to.”
“Stop teasing me,” she whines.
“I’ll tease you as much as I want to.” When we’re alone like this, I’m in control. She can have me wrapped around her finger again when this is over.
“Fuck me,” she murmurs.
“Beg for it.”
Her breath hitches. She knows this was coming. I won’t give her what she wants that easily.
“Please fuck me.”
“Where would you like me to fuck you?” I graze over her slit with my index finger. “Here?” I move the same finger to her anus. “Or here?”
“W-Whatever you want.”
“Ah.” I move my finger back to her slit. “So here. How would you like me to fuck you?” I use my thumb to rub circles on her clit. “Like this?” My index finger buries into her and I slowly move it in and out. “Or like this?”
“T-that works.”
“Or…” My unoccupied hand guides my cock to her pussy so the tip brushes along her clit. “Would you like me to use this?”
“I don’t care!” she wails. “Just please… please fuck me already.”
There. That’s how I want her: reduced to a needy mess.
So I give her what he wants. She screams in relief when I finally push my cock into her. I pour my week-long frustrations into her. My body thrusts rapidly in and out of her, my hands gripping her hips roughly that I’m certain there’ll be bruises forming by tomorrow morning. In the back of my mind, my gentle side is begging me to slow down, to savor the moment and remember that our time is limited. For her, the concept of forever doesn’t exist for us.
But I don’t care. I’ll take what I can get, even if what I get are scarce leftovers.
Curse words fall from her mouth constantly. Her arms struggle to hold herself up, until it gives out and the upper half of her body slumps atop the couch arm. I’m glad these walls are somewhat soundproof; god forbid the complaints from our neighbors who might think I’m murdering someone in here.
“That’s it,” I croon. “Let it out, (Y/N).”
“Shit… I’m gonna come.”
“Good girl. Come for me. Show me who’s mine.”
She shouts my name, her orgasm causing mine to follow a few seconds later. I drown in the sounds of our pleasure. This was worth waiting an entire week for. This was worth the tension when she waltzed into my home and was capable of shattering the barriers I put up around me.
“Whoa,” she breaths once we finish riding our highs. “I totally missed that.”
“Same here, sweetie.”
“Mmmm…” I pull out of her, moving to lie on the couch. She takes a minute to remove her heels. I’m tempted to spank her again; if she’s showing her backside to me like this on purpose, the joke is on her. I’ve already gotten what I wanted. I can wait another ignorant week.
“His name’s Gordon.” She kicks off her heels and lays down on top of me. She rests her head on my chest. “I met him while I was at a bar with (B/F/N).”
“And you slept with him.”
“Nope.”
“But you will.”
“Maybe, if I like him enough.”
“Have you kissed him?”
She lifts her head to look at me. The slight glimmer in her eyes confirms my question.
“We only kissed. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I’m not.” Yeah I am. I have to know how much of an asshole he is right of the bat.
“I’m going on a real date with him tomorrow.” She caresses my cheek. “We had a good conversation when we met. If our date goes well… Dan, I think he could be the one.”
“You’re saying that and you barely know him.”
She sighs. “Yeah…but I’m crossing my fingers. Heartbreak is a bitch.”
Of course it is. But she wouldn’t have to keep experiencing heartbreak if she just picked me.
This is what we are. We’re more star-crossed than Romeo and Juliet. Our teen-like hearts, beating fast in a secluded flat, close to touch but unable to beat in sync.
˜:˜
Gordon is a dick. I don’t know the guy, but I know he is. Every man that (Y/N) has been with is. They’ll use her, trick her into thinking she’s the only apple to their eyes. It’s a lie, because they only see her as the bruised apple and there’s another woman out there who’s the ripest apple of their tree.
Phil doesn’t seem to think so. He thinks Gordon is different. It’s the first time that Phil has ever said that about her boyfriends. It worries me, because if Phil is right, Gordon isn’t an asshole and he’s falling in love with her in the pure way that I’m doing. He’s stealing my girl. I won’t swallow that fact lightly.
I deserve her. I deserve the love that she gives to other men one hundred percent. I deserve her at her best and worst. Not Gordon. Not a man who’s going to be another ex.
A few days pass. Then a week. A month. Three months. She barely comes to the flat. We haven’t had sex since she dropped by the flat to first tell me about Gordon. Thankfully, there aren’t long durations without receiving texts and calls from her anymore. We’ve reached a point where I can call her anytime and she’ll be likely to answer it.
However, it doesn’t remove the ache in my chest at the thought of (Y/N) and Gordon as a couple. The longer they’re together, the less optimism I have of (Y/N) and I as endgame. Phil still tells me to keep my hopes alive, though I’m beginning to truly give up this time around. What’s the point of waiting for a girl that can’t reciprocate my feelings?
Why am I still choosing to be single?
˜:˜
I try not to think about (Y/N) at the next YouTube party. I have a blast hanging out with Phil and our YouTube friends. I drink more than I normally do. Louise teases that the beast in me is finally released.
Oh Louise, if only she knew that there was already someone else who has seen my beastly side before.
I’m flat-out drunk before midnight. Phil calls someone to pick me up. He knows he should go home too so he could look after me, but I tell him to stay. I know he wants to. I’m not letting my drunkenness take away his night to have fun.
Despite my hazy mind, my tiny bit of soberness sees who took me home. She doesn’t talk during the entire ride and she doesn’t turn on the radio. The silence in her car brings peace to my brain. It’s lessening an urge to vomit.
She helps me walk into my flat. Or rather, stumble my way through. My urge to vomit returns and I immediately throw up in the loo as soon as we get inside. My brain is desperate for sleep, though my tired body wants me to stay awake. So I stumble back into my bedroom and collapse on my bed. Not too long later, she joins me.
“You shouldn’t have gotten drunk,” she scolds me, sitting down on the mattress.
“Didn’t want to turn down free drinks,” I mumble.
“You’ve done that before.”
“I regret doing that.”
She shakes her head in disappointment. “What’s gotten into you? You normally don’t drink yourself to this point.”
“Why do you think I got myself drunk? I think you know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“It’s because I love you, okay? I love you and I can’t have you and we’ve talked about this so many times already. But it’s still the same. You want love, just not with me. For my sake and all that other shit.”
“Dan-”
“I fucking hate you,” I spat. “I hate being in love with you. I’m sick of you telling me that you’re sacrificing our chance to be together to protect my reputation. But I’m fucking sacrificing shit too. You’re not even giving me a chance and I’m forced to just watch you get your heart broken all the damn time. I’m tired of it. I’m so, so, so tired of it.”
I close my eyes after my outburst. I don’t see nor hear her reaction. As I fall unconscious, I smile at the burden I’ve finally gotten out of my chest.
It feels better than all the orgasms I’ve had from her.
˜:˜
I wake up the next day with a massive headache. I feel like a boulder pounded through my skull repetitively and I haven’t died from it. The sweet release of death would’ve been so much better than to be conscious with this mental hell.
(Y/N) is nowhere in sight. There’s two Tylenol pills and a glass of water on my dresser. I don’t know if it’s Phil or (Y/N) who left it there.
I swallow the pills and drink the water. I wait for my hangover to subside. I stay in bed for nearly an additional hour before I can stand up with minimal pain in my head.
Phil is eating a sandwich in the kitchen when I exit my bedroom. He grins upon seeing me awake.
“Hey,” I grumble.
“Hey! You feeling better?”
“I’m feeling more shit than usual.”
Phil chuckles. “I’m not surprised.”
“Where’s (Y/N)?”
“She left a couple of hours ago. Said she wanted to stay, but she had something important to take care of.”
Ugh. Gordon is that important thing.
Phil gives me a hesitant gaze. “Ummm… (Y/N) texted me not too long ago.”
“What’d she say?”
“She broke up with Gordon.”
I freeze. Am I hearing this right?
“She texted you first, but you didn’t answer back. I told her you were still asleep. She said she’ll call back tonight.”
Fuck it. I’ll call her right now.
I dash to my room and grab my iPhone. There’s one unread text from her, though I ignore it and dial her number instead. I know what the text entails. What I need is to hear the news through her own mouth than words on a phone screen.
“Yo.”
“You really broke up with Gordon?”
“What, I don’t get a good afternoon?”
“Good afternoon, (Y/N). Now spill.”
She sighs. “Yes, Dan. I broke up with Gordon.”
“Why?”
“Do you not remember what you told me last night?”
I rack through my memories of last night. There was a party. I got drunk. (Y/N) drove me home. I said some things to her… wait.
I told her I love her.
I said “I love you” to (Y/N).
Fuck. My. Life. I wasn’t supposed to do that.
“Meet me outside your flat. I wanna talk to you face-to-face.”
“Uh… yeah. I’ll… see you.”
The surprise hits me more when the call ends. She knows how I feel for her. All this time, she only knew that I was interested in pursuing a relationship with her. Not that I love her. No, I intended to save those three words until we got through a first date.
Phil notices my shocked expression as I walk out my room. He’s done with his sandwich, and he beams, probably knowing what we talked about.
“(Y/N)’s coming over?”
I nod, still speechless.
“I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He winks. “Just don’t be too loud, eh?”
I scowl, sticking my tongue out. I’m going to talk to her, not fuck her senseless. I can save that for a later time.
“I’m happy for you, Dan. Go get your girl.”
My scowl switches to a grateful smile. It’s thanks to Phil’s advising that I’ve been able to rationally deal with my emotions toward (Y/N).
“She was always my girl,” I reply. “It just took her a lifetime to accept it.”
˜:˜
When (Y/N) arrives driving her (your favorite car), I open the car door and sit down on the shotgun seat. It would be more comfortable for us talk in my flat, but if we wind up arguing, it wouldn’t be fair for Phil to be forced to eavesdrop on it.
“Hi,” I greet.
“Hey.”
“So…”
“Last night made me think about a lot of things.” She unbuckles her seatbelt. “It was a lot to take in. I… I was ashamed. I knew you were hurt from all the dating failures I’ve had and me going to you because of it. But I never thought you’d be in love with me. I thought you only cared about me as a close friend. In all the relationships I’ve had, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt insecure about falling for. All the other guys, I didn’t mind if I got my heart broken. As long as I tried, hey, at least I know they’re not the one. With you, I was genuinely afraid I’d really lose you as a friend if we fell in love. Liking: I’m okay with that. Sex: I’ll roll with it. Love: I’d rather lose a limb than have my heart make that commitment. Gordon’s cool, but he isn’t you. He’s funny, he’s understanding, he’s hot as hell and a fantastic kisser. But I can’t love him. I can’t see myself saying yes if he proposed to me one day. If you proposed… I’d honestly say yes before you even asked ‘Will you marry me?’”
“(Y/N), are you saying you want to get hitched?”
She giggles. “You’re missing the point. I love you too, you dork. I broke up with Gordon because I realized I’m supposed to be with you. I don’t care what my parents and your friends will say. If I want to have Daniel Howell as my boyfriend, then I’ll let him be my boyfriend.”
“So you want to be my girlfriend?“
She grins, her head moving up and down excitedly. She moves her mouth to my ear. “I want the man who’s a freak on YouTube and in the sheets.”
I laugh, elated that my nightmare is over. I don’t have to keep us a secret to the public anymore. “Want me to prove that to you in here?”
She raises an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”
“Maybe.”
Her grin doesn’t falter as she drives her car elsewhere. She moves it at a more isolated location, and once she finishes parking, she pounces.
We kiss each other hungrily. We move to the passenger seat so we have more room. I inch her dress up and slide her panties down her legs. She pulls down my pants down to my feet. We groan in unison as I bury myself to the hilt inside her. My movements are slow, a first since sex became a factor in our lives. Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking her Clothes off by Panic at the Disco is playing on the radio, partially masking the sounds of the moans and groans escaping our lips. How fitting, except now my girl is officially my girlfriend.
We don’t fuck. We make love. We take our time, and after we reach our peaks, I hug my lover close.
We can dance to this beat for as long as she’ll have me.
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sevenclowds · 7 years
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Frank Weekend
My account of going to see Frank Iero and the Patience play at the Baltimore Soundstage in Maryland, Sat Apr 22 2017.
My companions for the weekend are my 19 yr old and my friend's 16 yr old daughter. Both their names begin with C and will henceforth be known collectively as C&C. My teen was forced to listen introduced to MCR from the age of 7 and obviously has great musical taste. My friend's teen is a huge fan of the Emo Trinity, but is not familiar with Frank's non-MCR work. "Is Frank the drummer for MCR?" she asks innocently. Oh dear. We gotta lotta educating to do this weekend. Someone needs to save this poor child.
[Very long post. You probably want to put the kettle on for this.]
We leave North Carolina at 8am and make our first stop at 10am at a Starbucks. It is here that I purchase a fateful cup of coffee that will keep me buzzed for the next 19 hrs. Just how strong is Starbucks Pike Place Roast? And what on earth possessed me, a caffeine lightweight, to get a grande instead of a tall? It'll help me keep awake while driving, I thought. Someone punch me.
I treat C&C to my music on the drive. My iTunes music library appears to be like my blog: 95% MCR with the occasional snippet of something random. We make sure to play plenty of Frank, for educational purposes. C&C are huge Hamilton nerds and we listen to the soundtrack as we near DC. As we pass the capital city, I point out that Washington is now literally on our side. Groan. #momjokes
We arrive at our hotel in Baltimore around 4pm, then go out around 5pm. We walk past The Soundstage and there are lots of people lined up waiting to get in. I'm so happy to see several Frank fans wearing the same Death Spells hoodie as me and as we walk past I feel really fucking cool! These are my people! My tribe! They will see my DS merch and know that I am one of them! Whereas last week, walking round Harris Teeter, I felt vaguely conspicuous in my black hoodie with the scorpion on the back, but now, I fit in. I am home. If I didn't have C&C with me I would be lining up there with them. But I have to feed my teens and not leave them to stand outside in the rain, so I sigh, and head toward Shake Shack for some food that we'll loosely call "dinner", like a grown up.
After eating some fries, we head to a spiffy steampunky Barnes & Noble where C&C, both devoted book nerds, are in heaven and bond further over their love of fiction. I'm itching to get to the venue but it's still raining and cold and they're having so much fun that we don't head over there until about 7.30pm.
VIP Ticket Fiasco Two months previously, when buying the tickets online, I wasn't quite fast enough to get the VIP tickets and I sat at my computer spitting curses and venom at those who managed to buy them in 0.2 milliseconds flat. The VIP experience included a private acoustic session before the show, a copy of Parachutes, and a seat in the posh table-and-chairs bit near the side of the stage. But alas, it wasn't to be so I made do with the regular tickets.
So, as we enter the venue, we're informed that we can upgrade to the posh section for an extra $10 each. C&C look thrilled at this idea, and my kid has issues with being in crowds and had been intending to stand quietly near the back, so this is a fantastic opportunity to get a great view without the crush. I relent and upgrade, even though I'm crying inside because I know we've missed out on the private session earlier and I just want to die. Fuck me, I get to sit at a table like somebody's mom. Kill me now. My plan is to stay with C&C for a couple of songs and then venture out into the crowd, but that damn parental mode kicks in and I feel guilty about leaving them so I stay. But actually, the view is really great, even though the atmosphere in the VIP area is nonexistent.
Dave Hause and the Mermaid open the show with some so-so rock stuff. Perfectly fine and competent band to fill the time, although nothing too exciting until the last song, dedicated to Trump, and called Dirty Fucker, causes the crowd to go wild.
Then Frank Iero and his Beardy Wondergroup come out, launch into World Destroyer, and time ceases to exist. It's the first time I've seen Frank since 2007 when he wore his Black Parade jacket (sniff) so I'm very emotional and I'm grinning the whole time. I realize I don't know as many lyrics as I'd like to, on account of Frank lyrics being hard to learn without serious study, which I haven't had time for. I do my best and probably sing a pile of nonsense for the most part. He tells us that today is the first time he's showered in 5 days. Why so gross? He tells us a story about how bad the crime is in Baltimore, which makes everyone nervous about getting home tonight.
I take some great photos
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And some not so great photos
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After the show, we head to the pizza place next to the venue to kill time until the band hopefully come out. We huddle in the corner by the door and eat pizza. I can't really taste it. Maybe it's because it's gluten free and vegan, maybe it's because I'm really not quite in my body. I realize I'm shaking and figure it's still The Coffee I had earlier plus added adrenaline and fatigue.
I message Kyle @casesandcapitals to come meet us in the pizza place because I know he's here somewhere and we've never met before. Next thing I know, Jen @jen--ne--sais--quoi and Kyle are walking in and I realize three fundamental truths at the exact same time: 
1. Jen has intimidating make-up skills 
2. Kyle IS recognizable without the 5ft tall metal flamingo
3. These people are way too cool for me
I am a little excitable and extra when meeting them and their friends Abbi @grewuponyourbackporch and Cole, but mainly because Jen's jacket is all kinds of awesome.
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My new friends eat pizza and go outside to wait again but it's too cold for us so we stay in the restaurant. I feel really sick, I'm still shaking and I feel like crap. In my fevered state I manage to post the same pic to Facebook twice and cannot for the life of me get anyone's name right in the above photo that I post to tumblr. My brain has gone. I'm a mess. I'm not really in my body and I wonder if they'll put "death by frank" as my cause of death.
We go to join everyone outside at about 1.30am because those band members aren't going to meet themselves and we don't want to miss it. It's fucking freezing! You can tell the direction that everyone has traveled to the show by how many blankets they're shivering under. Southerners are suffering and northerners don't give a shit because they're tough as nails. My kid discovers their Hamilton hoodie isn't at all warm but I'm not going to give them my hoodie because I need to meet Frank in my Death Spells hoodie because I'm shallow and a really bad parent. I actually choose to let a child freeze because I want Frank to know I'm a fan and not just someone's mom. Priorities, people!
Evan and Alex keep appearing and disappearing again. They mill around and meet folks, clearly enjoying themselves or at least faking it really well. Me and C&C go stand in the parking garage entrance for a bit because it's possibly 5 degrees warmer than outside. It's 2.20am. C&C want to give it until 2.30 before we leave. It's clear by now that Frank isn't going to come out. But he ALWAYS comes out. I'm faced with the reality of having to leave without meeting him and I'm distraught. I comfort C&C because I feel bad for making them wait all this time but they end up comforting and hugging me. They tell me to wait until 3am and to come speak to Evan because he's being adorable and there's hardly anyone left so we'll have him to ourselves. And so we do, and he's just the loveliest, sweetest man and he fixates on the fact that me and the kiddo are British, haha! We tell him we drove 8 hrs today and he should come to North Carolina. He agrees and says he loves Chapel Hill so maybe that'll happen some day (yeah right). He imparts wisdom on doing what you love and not being obsessed with grades because they won't matter once you leave school. He starts talking to someone else and just as we're thinking of leaving, there's a tap on my shoulder and someone behind me yells, "Oh! Nando's!" It's Evan again, wanting to tell me about his favorite British experience - a restaurant that serves the best chicken. He's so enthusiastic as we discuss Nando's menu, particularly the veggie options and the bean burger. Hilarious! He's my new favorite person without a doubt.
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It's 3am and we leave, jogging back to the hotel (because Frank's made us nervous about Baltimore). We get to the room and I get into bed in my clothes because it's too cold to consider taking anything off. My body is still buzzing (can it STILL be The Coffee from this morning or is it shivering?). I get maybe 1-2 hrs sleep because my mind insists on composing Hamilton/FIATP hybrid songs and some of them are actually quite good so I stay up and listen to the inside of my head.
Next day we drive back to NC. It takes 7.5 hrs. I force C&C to listen to the entire Death Spells album and even a little bit of Leathermouth just because I know it's what Jen would have wanted 💜
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sutoribenda · 7 years
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Ayo babe have you gotten any of the ask number yet? Do the odd ones???
Ooooh lots of questions! I love it, thanks bruh ;D
1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? Yeah, sometimes I have those dissociated, out of body experiences where I think maybe my entire life is a dream or maybe I’m in a coma and I imagined everyone that I know. It’s really freaky, do not recommend. 
3. The person you would never want to meet? The loud yam we just gave all the nukes to.
5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? The only tree I’ve ever had a particular fondness for is the lemon myrtle tree, which I learned about while I was in Australia. It has this beautiful lemon scent and it’s used to make essential oils, flavoring for desserts, and its leaves can be used for tea.
7. What shirt are you wearing? This really cute blue sweater that the lovely @sakurita94 actually drew for me once for the sake of a meme.
9. Bright room or dark room? The walls in my room are bright red and a purple shade that’s this really nice, light color. As far as lighting in a room goes, usually I like it to be a bit darker.
11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? Age 19 was a great year. Being in London and having that freedom was just amazing and I was at that nice median of being an adult but not being as old as I am now needing to do everything for myself.
13. Your worst enemy? This horrible girl who used to go to my college and harassed my boyfriend in the hopes of breaking us up, regardless of how much I tried to be her friend.
15. Do you like someone? @gayniffler I guess? 
17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? Yeah that’s way too much power, I’d feel really guilty if I knew there would be an explosion involved. 
19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? Ahhh I’m not crazy about this question either. I would rather send my clone to all my classes for me while I just stay in bed, that sounds nicer.
21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? Oh man this would be weird. I would enjoy having male privilege. The boyfriend says that male me would look like Peter Pan and in the list of actors who have played him, I think I look most like Charlie Rowe?
23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? It’s totally normal to be afraid of bugs, but for some reason when I tell people that I’m also afraid of butterflies, they think that I’m crazy. Those butterfly houses at zoos scare me so much! What if I step on one?? What if one lands on me????!?!
25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? I would probably save that $100 in my wallet to use for nice little extra things throughout my days like takeout food or a milkshake. Cause I love treating myself to small things but that adds up a lot. 
27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? Kahlua mudslide mix.
29. What is your favorite expletive? Shit.
31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Probably the most traumatic thing in my past would be having my front teeth knocked out, I’d love it if that had never happened. 
33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? Oh man, so many amazing people died in 2016 so I want to jump right on that and say Carrie Fisher or Anton Yelchin or something. But whenever I’m given this question, I always have the same answer, and that is Fred Rogers. 
35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? Am I a good writer? Kind of, but I really hate the process.
37. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes but it was more of this morphed snow tower with a face. 
39. What type of music do you like? Oh god, almost everything. Mainly showtunes and the emo trinity though.
41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Cookies and cream. 
43. Do you have any scars? Yes, quite a few. I have three on my left hand and wrist from when my friend’s dog bit me. One on my right chest from where I had a tumor removed. Several in various parts of my arms and legs where derma has gone crazy. 
45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I would really love to have a body that didn’t constantly feel like it was dying.
47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? I would probably ask my future self what her biggest regret was in the hopes that I could avoid that. 
49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? The puppy manatee. A small, land dwelling manatee who sleeps at the foot of your bed and gives you kisses. 
51. Are you a good liar? I think that I am, but I’m not really sure.
53. What has been you worst haircut/style? When I was in kindergarten, I had a crush on a boy who had a bowl cut and for some reason I expressed my five year old feelings by getting the exact same haircut as him? It was super weird and not cute even slightly.
55. Can you do any accents other than your own? I’m not great at accents as much as I am at voices. If I have someone specific to imitate, then I do a pretty good job. Without a voice reference, my southern belle is pretty passable. 
57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? Oh god, I don’t draw much. I think my last doodle of a face was of Adam Driver? 
59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. If I’m playing music, I sing along usually. My unusual thing in the shower is probably just sitting down. Standing in the shower has always been less comfortable for me so this is something I’ve done ever since I was a kid. I don’t always do it, but it’s nice to just fold your knees up to your chest and get warm under the water. 
61. Do you often read your horoscope? Whenever I seen horoscope posts on tumblr, I read mine. I don’t tend to seek them out though.
63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? Answered
65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of. Do you like it when people send you questions for askbox games? Yes, please do it all the time, lovely followers. 
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ishahzaib22 · 4 years
Text
TikTok's soft girls: could a hyper-cute aesthetic be a symbol of empowerment?
TikTok's soft girls: could a hyper-cute aesthetic be a symbol of empowerment? Everyone knows the familiar high-school subcultures – the populars, rebels and artsy weirdos who comprise the basic foundation of teen archetypes. Now new subcultural types distinctive enough to be intelligible to adults have emerged naughteegirl , in large part via trend superconductor TikTok. You can read about VSCO girls (beachy and eco-conscious and inconspicuously rich) and e-girls (emo types who are very online) in publications such as the New York Times and the Columbia Journalism Review. Yet the holy trinity of Gen Z teen girl taxonomy would not be complete without the soft girl, the internet’s new favorite girl-next-door. Though she may be lesser-known than the VSCO or e-girl, the soft girl is nonetheless a codified persona mainstream enough to have her own BuzzFeed quizzes, viral hashtag challenges, and six separate Urban Dictionary definitions in 2019. (The “softboi” also exists – he’s an emotionally exploitative lothario described here). “I feel like the soft-girl aesthetic is really popping off if you look in the right places,” says Jamie, a 14-year-old West Virginian and creator of Reddit’s r/softgirl, over Messenger. “On TikTok, I see a lot of videos radiating soft-girl energy.” That means, she says, “hair clips, soft colors, mom jeans, glossy lips and overall just a dreamy vibe” naughteegirl. You will find the soft girl online, pigtailed, clad in pastels, perhaps with a spray of faux freckles – or little clouds, or hearts – painted across her blush-pinkened cheeks and highlighted nose. She may wear toned-down versions of this look to school and in daily life, but its fully realized, campy extreme can only be found when she broadcasts on social media, usually from her bedroom. The soft look isn’t new – teens have pursued cuteness forever, and the underpinnings of soft-girl style have long incubated on Instagram, and on Tumblr, where glittery girlishness has been associated with a controversial fourth-wave “Tumblr feminist” effort to satirize gender expectations by amplifying feminine stereotypes. Several of the genre’s components also have roots in anime fan culture; for instance, peppering one’s textual speech with the manga-derived emoticon “uwu”, (pronounced “ou-wu,” like babytalk) meant to resemble a smiling face with closed eyes, and used to indicate the speaker either is being cute themselves or is responding to something cute (similar to “aww”). Although glitter, pastel hair and “uwu” have been around for a while, it’s only in the last year these components have truly coalesced into the latter-day manic pixie dream girl, catching sufficient fire to garner an official “soft szn” (spring), “get-the-look” shopping guides, and rap shout-outs. For the latter, listen to SoundCloud rapper Haroinfather’s TikTok-famous track Tunnel of Love, an ode to soft girls featuring the verse “You so f*cking cute / When I see you I uwu” (in case you were wondering, yes, his use of “uwu” as a verb is novel). All together, the vision of femininity soft girls evoke can be seen as dispiritingly retrograde – a kittenish broadcast of reductive tropes from a generation older feminists probably hoped would grow up more enlightened. Don’t these girls have anything better to do than spend their time and money trying to look harmless on the internet? The impulse to dismiss the soft girl as silly may overlook the deeply felt vulnerability of girlhood, and the desire to reckon with it on one’s own terms. In 2015, the author Lucy Ellman described teenage girls as living “in terror of the society in which they find themselves … their main aim is to reach adulthood without being raped, shot, manhandled, or murdered.” It’s a dark statement, but not an inaccurate one. Teen girls are often discredited and exploited for being pretty and eager to please others, characteristics dominant culture pressures them to have. Girls are disproportionately penalized by school attire policies, body-shamed, and blamed for “inviting” sexual harassment, which most begin experiencing at about 14. According to Simon May, professor of philosophy at King’s College London and author of 2019’s The Power of Cute, there is more going on with soft girls than just blush and Bambi eyes. Cuteness, he says, especially when it’s over the top, “steps outside the power paradigm”. “To me, these girls are ironizing the whole question of power. Do they have it, don’t they have it, what is it to have it, and does it matter?” he says. “When I look at [soft girls] I have no idea how much power they have or want, whether they are playing or protesting, or playing at protesting. Something about their playfulness seems to question why we see human life so exclusively, almost one-dimensionally, through a lens of power.” So, is the soft girl aesthetic a sarcastic send-up of power dynamics? Is it a kind of sublimation of teen girl frustration at society’s hypocrisy towards them? Could it be a self-soothing attempt to cultivate tenderness in a frightening world? It may be a all these things and more. Irony, as May points out, is clearly a factor of the soft-girl look. The popular 2019 #softgirlchallenge, in which teens edited their videos so they appeared to spontaneously transform from grungy e-girl to glimmering soft girl particularly conveys how lightly Gen Z wears its group affiliations. These subcultures exist simultaneously as personas, styles, statements and jokes. Once, high-schoolers may have rigidly aligned with their in-groups, committing to being a punk or a hippie, a theatre kid or a cheerleader; today, the performative medium of TikTok encourages mutability – you can play with being an e-girl or a soft girl or any other archetype you please. As for Jamie, she says she likes the soft-girl look because it’s fun to express herself through softness. “Embracing cuteness, getting into cute things, it really boosted my happiness and made me more comfortable with my life,” she says. She thinks she’ll stick with the soft-girl aesthetic for a while due to its “positive energy”, but she may change it up one day. Why? Because, she says, “that’s what you do when you’re finding yourself.”
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