#this album is worst than her latest one

[blues-valentine]

Don’t get me wrong because I genuinely think Taylor Swift is a talented lyricist but she really has not artistic growth… She has written the same exact songs four hundred times but now she just puts a random words generator. Like, some of those lyrics sound AI generated. And she’s 34 years old but her albums still speak on the same things. There’s zero evolution. Some of those lyrics feel targeted to a 19 years old that is in her “indie aesthetically bad boys that get high and I think I can fix phase” which is basically the same as her old material but way more cringey for some reason. And I’m not trying to compare but Beyoncé at that age was making Lemonade. It’s hard to think this is the biggest pop star the world has to offer us. This is white mediocrity. The songs are fun to edit over fictional characters but when you put into perspective her whole work is so lackluster. So utterly boring and predictable. Maybe she needs to take a break (?). And somehow, people and white music critics will pretend this album is comparable to the likes of Cowboy Carter.

[pers1st]

dancing with the devil - alexia putellas x reader

pairing: alexia x singer!reader

warnings: mentions of drugs and alcohol

Meeting Alexia hadn't been an accident. If anything, meeting anyone, for you, was an accident, because more often than not, people were screaming into your face, demanding pictures and autographs and spinning theories about your private life that you were pretty sure could be considered conspiracies.

You hadn't intended, however, to meet Alexia. And she hadn't intended to meet you. The first time you'd seen the Catalonian woman had been on Keira's instagram. Your lifelong best friend and childhood neighbor was the only reason you were interested in women's football - or sports in general. You'd never shared your father's passion, or joined the local team like your brother had. If it wasn't for Keira, you would have no ties to the sport whatsoever, and even this way, you grew annoyed every time the strawberry blonde and her insufferably confident girlfriend tried to explain the offside rules to you.

Still, you followed Keira's life everywhere she went, and although you hadn't been happy with her move to Barcelona, you had forgiven her the minute you'd spotted the Catalonian woman on the sidelines.

Keira had warned you, but really, she should've warned Alexia. You enjoyed the lifestyle that came with being a singer, relished in parties and one-night-stands and rebounds that Keira doomed forbidden. More often than not, she'd threatened to hang up on your FaceTime call when you'd phoned her from London to tell her about your latest hookup. But Keira, as different as the two of you were, was still your best friend, and so she listened to every word you said, or sung, and was your number one supporter. This wasn't missed by her new teammates, who started following your socials the second Keira had first shared the promo picture of your new album. That's when Alexia had followed you. Keira should've warned her then, but a few years down the line, you were glad she hadn't. Because what was supposed to be a bed for you to spend a night in when you next visited Keira and Lucy in Barcelona blossomed into your second home, and the woman who was supposed to be yet another hookup blossomed into your girlfriend.

You had spent the past year somewhere between London, New York and Barcelona, desperate to spend time with Alexia, Leah and your producers all at the same time. The fans had quickly taken notice of your and Alexia's relationship, although, to be honest, not one of you had tried to hide anything. Alexia was easy, Alexia was simple, and most importantly, Alexia was safe. She was the one to ground you whenever you struggled with your mental health, whenever you were overwhelmed with pressure, anxiety, or any emotion alike.

But a few months ago, with Alexia's return to the pitch, the World Cup and the crippling pressure to perform, at all time, that grasped your every cell, things had taken a turn for the worst.

You were on tour, and had witnessed the public abuse of Alexia and her teammates via FaceTime and instagram, trying your hardest to console the captain as best as you could from so many miles away. It hadn't been an easy task, and with the everlasting rehearsals, concerts and afterparties, you had neglected to take care of yourself.

Drinking was easy when you had the excuse of missing your girlfriend. Using was easy when you had the excuse of just living a little.

Nothing was easy now, as you stood in your girlfriend's flat in Barcelona, the woman halting across from you.

"I'm... home", she breathed, taking in her surroundings. There was no way to hide the bags packed behind you, the way you were still wearing your shoes despite the fact that Alexia had taken so much time to drill the habit of taking them off at the doorstep, the way you seemed to be ready to leave when you had just come home.

"What is going on?", she asked, dropping her bag with a soft thud. Alexia had expected you on the couch, with a mug of tea in your hands, in her sweatpants and fluffy socks, just the way you liked during the colder months. She had expected you to be nuzzled under a blanket, perhaps napping as she knew the jet lag robbed you of energy whenever you took the plane from the States to Spain.

"I'm leaving", you breathed, staring into her face blankly. You tried to remember. Tried to take in every dimple, every freckle, the color of her eyes and the baby hairs that were flying off her hairline. If you could have, you would have taken a picture. You had so many pictures of Alexia in your phone, ranging from ones to her sleeping, from her at training, from her during matches, from her at dates you took her on or standing in the crowd of your concerts. They were never going to be enough - realistically, you knew that. But, realistically, you could never forget Alexia either, no matter how much time you would spend away from her.

Alexia looked confused. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she opened her mouth and closed it again. Her lips looked like she had been picking them, the way she always did when she was stressed, but you wanted to kiss them anyways.

Her feet guided her into the kitchen, walking straight past you as she inspected the apartment. She noticed your favorite mug - one that she had given you for Christmas last year - wasn't where it usually stood next to her favorite mug. Why would you take your mug? You never took your mug when you went away from her, to concerts or recording sessions or award galas.

If she looked any closer, she might've noticed the broken handle of it laying next to the trash can. The dish had been sent to the floor when you had frantically grabbed at it, desperate to leave the flat before your girlfriend came home, and shattered into a million peace. Each one of it was tucked in a plastic bag in your suitcase, but you had forgotten the handle. Alexia didn't notice. Her eyes were back on you.

"What are you talking about?", she asked. In that moment, you were grateful more than ever that Alexia had taken the longer route to grab your favorite sushi from the one restaurant on the other side of the town, the only one you liked, because it had given you enough time to pack everything before she came home. You had almost been out the door - you had put your shoes and coat on already, leaving your favorite scarf, the pink one that she liked to wear, in the hallway.

"I'm so sorry." Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you had to tear your eyes away from her, down to your dirty sneakers, when you felt your lips wobble. If you took another glance at Alexia, you would cry.

The handle of your suitcase was cold as you gripped it tightly, bending down to pick up the bag still on the ground.

"I'm so sorry, Alexia."

It wasn't just another statement one said during a breakup without any meaning. You truly meant it. You truly were sorry. In the past months, both yours and Alexia's life had spiraled completely, and although you had been there for her as best as you could have, and lost yourself in the process. The shell of a person that was left of you was nowhere close to what Alexia deserved. You weren't sorry for leaving her, you were sorry for the person you had become, and you were sorry you couldn't be the person for Alexia anymore. You couldn't be her loving girlfriend anymore, the one that loved her endlessly, that made her laugh, that took her worries away with soft kisses and whispered nothings. You couldn't be the person to make her happy anymore. If Alexia took a closer look at you, maybe she would notice your blown pupils, the redrimmed eyes of yours, the bags beneath them. Maybe she would notice the amount of weight you lost, the leftovers of white powder beneath your nose, maybe she would've noticed how broken you were.

You didn't give her the chance, instead tearing your gaze away from her and shuffling towards the door with soft steps, desperate not to ruin her hardwood floor with the crunch of broken glass and splashes of alcohol on your dirty shoes.

You heard Alexia cry behind you, heard her pleas for you to stay, heard her questions, her yells, but you were out of the flat quicker than she could've pulled you back. The air of Barcelona hit you colder than it had before, and a part of you wished you would've worn the pink scarf, knowing it would've kept you warm and smelled of Alexia's perfume.

The black SUV was still parked right next to her driveway the way you had instructed Lois, your driver, to wait. He didn't ask a single question as you slammed the bags into the backseat, following in shortly after, tears streaming down your face. You needed to leave. You were doing the right thing. Alexia would realize it, at one point.

17th December, 2023:

Breaking news: British singer Y/N Y/L/N's summer tour cancelled after drug overdose.

notes:

there goes my first oneshot! please let me know what you think and also if you want a pt2 bc i have so much more in mind about thus story :)

[uglypastels]

You're On Your Own, Kid / A Munson Story

a/n I got this random idea today of "what if Eddie had a long lost sister" and thought it would be fun to just drabble away at it, but the drabble got longer and I got more and more invested in these two dorks, so yeah, I might write more about them if anyone is interested..

word count: 2031

warning: swearing. Mentions of troubled families. not much else[?]

Taglist Temporarily Inactive - Masterlist - Requests through Inbox

When the Hawkins gang met Eddie, the first thing they learned about the Hellfire Club leader was that he was a talker but rarely talked about himself. He can go on for hours talking about DnD campaigns or the latest fantasy book he's read [and don't get him started about the upcoming Metallica album. He will not shut up,] but he rarely reveals anything about himself. Learning about his past was more of a scavenger hunt of his life story's tidbits rather than... a story.

The worst part was that Eddie did not even realise he had done this. Perhaps he assumed everyone knew everything about him (since most act like that anyway, accusing him of shit left and right.)

Thus, moments like this happened as Eddie was talking about how he needed to fix his car because the last time he drove it, it shut down in the middle of the road.

"Made me think of the time my dad's car flunked and he send me and my sister out to find someone to call for help since we didn't have a phone."

"What?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, we had to walk like fice miles until we ran into some shack. Nice lady lived up there. She gave us cookies." Eddie shrugged, reminiscing.

"No, no that," Nancy clarified Robin's question. "You have a sister?"

"Oh. Yeah." Eddie just blinked. "Didn't I tell you guys?"

A collective No erupted all around the room. So, Eddie was forced to tell them everything about you. How you were only a year younger than him, always a pain in the ass, but a great sport to tag along in all of the shenanigans that he came up with as a kid. The two of you were inseparable until your dad landed in jail for the one too-manyeth time, and you were separated.

"I went to live with our uncle, while she went upstate to live with our grandma. She would have taken us both but her house smelled too much like sauerkrout."

"Do you still see her?" Steve asked.

"My grandma? No, she died last year."

"Your sister." Steve said, failing to hide the exhaustion caused by the conversation.

"We used to visit each other every summer and all the school holidays, but you know, as we got older, we just grew apart, I guess. Last year, she went off to college, then granny died so we saw each other at the funeral, said we’d call but neither of us did… and we haven't really talked since." Eddie started finicking with a loose thread on his ripped jeans as a moment of heartfelt silence fell across the room. 

 Robin broke through that flawlessly, however. ‘So, call her now,’ she called out. Eddie looked up at her, bewildered. 

‘What, like right now?’ 

‘Yeah, invite her over to stay for the summer. I’m sure she’ll be glad you have re-entered civilisation and made some new friends.’ Robin’s eyes grew in size with excitement as she declared all the new plans, and the rest listened intently, whether they wanted to or not.

And that’s more or less why you were woken up in the middle of the night by the phone ringing. 

‘Hullo?’ you grudged out, wiping the sleep out of your eyes. ‘Hey, Judes.’Your brother’s voice came from the other side quietly, not at all what you were used from him… not that you were used to hearing anything at all these days. 

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You checked the alarm clock next to your bed. Why the hell was your brother calling you at 1 am? 

‘Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just with some friends and—’ 

‘Let me stop you right there,’ you cut him off, ‘are you either A) dying or B) in prison?’

‘No, I’m fine.’

‘Then why, in god’s damned name, are you calling me at this fucking hour?’ There was a moment of silence. Some mumbling on the other line, followed by a hushed curse as Eddie presumably checked the clock and finally realised what time it was. 

‘Shit, sorry. I didn’t even realise it was this late, like I said I’m just hanging out with some people.’

‘Figured.’ You grumbled, letting your head fall back onto your pillow. ‘I’m hanging up now, E–’

‘No wait!’ He shouted hard enough to wake you up again, as well as all your neighbours. ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

‘Then just do it. I’m trying to sleep.’

‘Would you want to come back to Hawkins for the Summer?’

‘Why the fuck would I want to go back to Hawkins?’ The sweltering heat was nothing to be missed, and the last time you were back in your hometown, the most interesting thing that happened was a man getting attacked by an owl. Of course, you missed your older brother and waited with a heavy heart for the day that he himself left that shithole to pursue the dreams you knew he still had. 

‘My friends want to meet you.’

‘I’ve been to like 5 of your “concerts”, you dork. I know all of your friends.’ Your eyes were getting heavier by the second, and all your energy was being used to remember to hold up the phone to your face and respond to whatever nonsense Eddie was spewing on the other end of the line. 

‘No, I uhh— I made somed new ones, believe it or not.’

‘No fucking way. At your grown age?’

‘Fuck off.’

‘No, fine, I’ll come. Will have to check with work but I’ll let you know this week.’

‘Ok, cool.’

‘Cool.’

‘Cool.’

‘I’m going to sleep now.’ 

‘Cool.’

‘Fuck you.’ And with that, you hung up. Not even five seconds later, you had dozed back off. 

Simultaneously, Eddie hung the phone back on the wall, feeling both as if a weight had fallen off his shoulder and as if he had just swallowed a giant boulder and was sinking to the bottom of Lover’s Lake. 

He turned around towards the room and was met with three awaiting pairs of eyes. 

‘And?’ Robin nudged him to speak.

‘She’s got to check her schedule.’ Eddie shrugged, not thinking much of it. That’s how your conversations have been over the last few years. Schedules always seemed to be booked, but promises would be made just to be broken over and over. So when his friends looked so excitedly at him, he was unsure what to do. After all, he doubted that this would be the time things would be different.

And how wrong he was. 

The next day, you called him back, this time waking him up at a slightly more human hour: noon. 

‘Sorry, I forgot you were taking your nap.’ You joked, certainly much to his appreciation, before telling him you got a few days off in the upcoming month. Maybe it was his abruptly awoken state, but it took a moment for the penny to drop and Eddie to react. And even then, it was a bit lacklustre. 

‘Ok, great. See you here in a few.’

It wasn’t your fault. At least not yours alone; in truth, you felt the same. Your childhood had not been a very stable one, as you moved from house to house as your parents tried to cling onto any job until it was finally too much. You and Eddie got dragged apart into two completely different sides of the world [that’s how big Indiana felt at the time, at least.] But no matter what, there was always one thing you could count on your family for: disappointment. 

Somehow, they [you and your brother included] just always managed to screw things up in the most fashionable way. To the point that it was easier not to have any hopes for anything because you knew that, to a certain extent, they would never be met. 

So, in the days leading up to your reunion, you didn’t let yourself be excited or dare to think of what to do or say to Eddie, only expecting a phone call from him to cancel everything with a half-assed apology. You knew that he was most likely awaiting the same thing from you. 

But somehow, against all odds, none of that happened. The days went by, and there were no changes to any plans. Your drive back to Hawkins was as smooth as ever, up to the Welcome sign. 

You weren’t entirely surprised to have learned that Eddie was still living with your uncle, but at least that was an address you knew all too well. It was really only once your wheels started to graze that gravel road that the reality of the situation hit you. And there he was, standing at the door of that damned box on wheels, hands in pockets like he always used to do when he was nervous, swinging back on forth on his feet. The only change was the cigarette between his lips to calm himself down. 

Assumably, at the sound of your approach, three heads popped out of the trailer door. More or less. You could see them looking through the little curtain that usually covered the window. You drove until you couldn’t any longer and stopped the car, taking the time for three deep breaths before getting out and into your brother's arms. 

‘You smell like shit.’ They were not meant to be the first words you said to him, but the ratchet stench of weed was overwhelming. 

‘Good to see you too.’ He hugged you tightly.

‘So good.’ You hugged him even tighter until he squeaked out in pain. 

Eddie groaned as you let go of eachother. ‘I really missed you, Judy.’

‘Wait, Judy?’ The curious heads finally popped out from behind the curtain and stepped out into the trailer's front yard. So it really was true: Eddie had made new friends—friends who looked particularly confused, just like you and Eddie had predicted at four years old. 

‘It’s just what Elroy calls me,’ you pointed at Eddie. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Judy— Elroy— wait, like the Jetsons?’ The guy in the middle said. His brows had knitted together as he deducted this conclusion to your little joke, and you had to admit he looked pretty cute. 

‘Exactly like the Jetsons. It was one of the only things we could agree on watching together.’

‘Well, that’s just adorable.’ The girl on the cute guy’s right said before introducing herself. ‘I’m Robin.’ She waved her hand with a slightly awkward smile. ‘That’s Steve,’ she poked the guy in the ribs with her elbow as he just stood there like a lost, yet excited, puppy. 

‘Right, hey, hi.’ He leapt into motion, extending his hand for a shake. 

‘Hi.’ You replied before letting go, then turned your attention to the other girl who politely awaited her turn.

‘I’m Nancy. It’s really nice to meet you. Eddie’s told us so much about you.’

‘I highly doubt that.’ You laughed, glancing over at your brother, who you never knew to talk about personal things.

‘We might have forced him a little bit.’ Robin admitted. ‘Would you like a drink? We got some rootbeer on ice inside.’

‘My favou-

‘We know,’ they said in chorus, confirming the previous statement made.

You heard your car door open and shut behind you, and when you turned around, Eddie was hauling your bag over his shoulder.

‘You could have just left it in the car for now.’ Sure, the trailer park was full of interesting characters, but no one would go as low as stealing from their neighbours. 

‘It’s not safe.’ Eddie huffed out over the weight of the bag. ‘Not since the raccoon?’ 

‘Raccoon?’ You blinked, looking between Eddie and Steve, who held the door open for you.

‘It’s better if you don’t ask,’ Steve said, making you want to ask even more. As you entered the trailer, with endless images of what could have happened between Eddie and that raccoon, the smell of popcorn filled the small living room, and you found your spot on the couch next to a politely smiling Steve, you suddenly felt like your Summer in Hawkins could end up being quite interesting after all. 

[philaet0s]

Celebrity/Social Media AU - Part 32

Previous Part: Part 31

Next Part: Part 33

The full AU is now posted on my ao3!

Simon

Making my way backstage during the concert is definitely the worst part of my day. I nearly get lost, even though I’ve done walked the opposite way only about two hours ago and someone who works here gave me clear and detailed instructions. When I arrive in Baz’s dressing room, Keris, who is in charge of all of Baz’s and his musician’s stage outfits, immediately points at a pair of slacks and a crisp white shirt. “Put them on, quick.”

I would not dare risk disobeying her. She looks stressed. Everyone who works with Baz on his tour looks stressed.

The clothes fit me perfectly, and yet, I’ve never tried them on before, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Baz had my clothing sizes memorised, so.

“You should have makeup on if you’re going on stage,” Keris comments, as she rolls up my sleeves artfully.

“Nah, there’s no time for that,” I say. I purposely left the show very late so there would be no time for makeup. I don’t want any of that stuff on my face, it’s itchy. “I should go now, he’s going to finish the song soon.”

“You’re right. Just one last thing… Turn around please.”

When I do, she tucks in my shirt more than I had, then untucks it a little. “Perfect. Go.”

…And I now have to do more walking around.

Thankfully, the distance is not so big this time, and there are people to guide me. They all look even more stressed than Keris. I don’t think the people who work with him are very happy with Baz’s latest idea… I feel bad for them, but I, for one, am too excited about his idea to be fully compassionate.

I’m right behind the stage now, and Baz has finished his songs. Normally, he moves on straight to the next one, but tonight, Agatha, Niamh, Dev and Niall all stop playing.

“Hey, so…” His voice quickly get drowned out by people cheering. I peek to watch the audience. He waits for them to have gotten a little less loud to continue. “So… London… We know each other very well, you and I… I live in this city. I’ve lived in this city for a long time, but for a few years, I’ve lived in this city with someone very special… Someone who is here, tonight.”

Though none of their faces are clear from this far away, I can tell people in the public turn towards the VIP area, where I was sitting a few minutes ago. Of course, some of them already knew I was here. I even had a few people come and talk to me, like I was the celebrity, it was odd but not totally unpleasant.

While they were busy trying to find me, someone brought the chair that, in a matter of two shows, has become very famous in his fandom. It’s now placed behind him.

“No… Not over there… He’s here tonight,” Baz says, with emphasis. I can hear the smile in his voice a few seconds before I see it as he turns to me, extending a hand.

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheering and clapping accompany my entrance.

Once I’m close enough, I take Baz’s hand. Mine is sweaty. It is intimidating standing in front of tens of thousands of people. I don’t know how Baz does it so confidently.

He mouths ‘Hi, love,’ as he squeezes my hand before holding his mic up to his lips again. “My partner, my muse… My Simon. Everyone, say hello to Simon,” he says, pointing the microphone at the public, who scream in return. “Good. See, it’s not so hard being well-behaved?”

More cheering. They love it when he’s flirty with them. (I could not blame them).

“Simon is going to help me with tonight’s performance, if you don’t mind.” With how loud they are, I doubt they mind. “I thought that I could do something special for the last shows of this incredible tour, the shows in this city that is so dear to me. I hope you’ll like my surprise, London!”

And with that, he pushes me down on the chair, hard enough to look good for the audience, but not so hard that the chair –or I– will fall.

At the same time, the band starts playing the first notes of Hands Down. A song from the first album he wrote about me. The dirtiest song on the first album he wrote about me.

He puts the mic back on the stand, switching to his headset microphone.

Sit back and enjoy. Touch me if you feel like it. That’s all the instructions he gave me when he exposed his idea to me. Which is really no instructions at all. And he didn’t tell me what he was going to do in any specific way, so I’m discovering his ‘surprise’ for London with the same excitement as the audience.

At first, it’s rather tame. He walks around the chair, singing the first verse of the song. The tips of his fingers are dragging along my collarbones, the top of my arms, my shoulder blades. Teasingly.

I’m focusing on the lyrics as much as on what he’s doing, and it makes me realise that that is what he does in the song too, in the first verse. It’s all teasing. He’s using that sexy, sultry voice, he sings a little slowly, drags the ends of some of his words, none of which are overtly sexual yet.

Then, as his lyrics become more explicit, so does his performance.

He’s behind me, and he drags his hands down my chest, until his fingers reach the waistband of my trousers. He lowers his head to, angling it as if he was whispering in my ear. His hands are slower on their way back up. They play with the top button of my shirt, to eventually undo it. And the one underneath it too. He places his lips close to my neck, to mime kissing it. I shiver all the same as I feel his breath on my skin.

He straightens up. He walks around the chair again until he’s in front of me. Almost mechanically, my legs open wider, something that I may feel ashamed about later. Not now, though. Absolutely not now. Because now he’s in front of me, singing those scandalous lyrics, looking better than he ever has. Because now he’s brought me in front of the crowd of his sold-out Wembley Stadium concert to show me off.

Because now he’s going down on his knees, in the space I just freed.

Jesus fucking Christ.

It’s the first time since his performance began that I notice the audience. The sounds they just made could probably be heard on the other side of the city. His hands are back on me, on my knees and then up my thighs. If he was actually going to… his lips would be following. He loves kissing my thighs. It’s his favourite spot for hickeys.

Instead, because having his face between my thighs might be too sexual even for him –or perhaps because he wants to spare me the embarrassment of getting hard on stage– he keeps his head right where it is, and looks up at me, with an intensity in his eyes that makes me feel hot all over.

For the final part of his song, he stands back up, only long enough to sit on my lap. To straddle one of my legs, more accurately. They’re too far apart for him to fit on both at the same time.

His own leg is practically pressed to my crotch, simply because it’s too damn long for it to fit in any other way, which is not helping lower my body temperature.

He’s rolling his hips now, like he does when he’s riding me. Same pace, too. One of his hands is toying with a button of my shirt he hasn’t undone and the other is on my shoulder, for balance.

He leans in, as if he was kissing me, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t, he’s singing, but my body reacts all the same. One of my hands holds the dip of his back, to keep him close, and the other flies up to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He smiles, and it changes the way he sings. I think I could die, right here and now. I know we’re in front of a whole stadium of people, but that moment feels so intimate, so beautiful.

Already, much too soon, he gets to the end of song. I don’t want it to be over yet. God, couldn’t he write a 20-minute song?

The last lyrics are sung close to my face, his breath brushing my lips.

And when he finishes, he kisses me. Actually kisses me.

[saintship]

GAZ COMING HOME TO A SURPRISE PARTY FROM YOU AND HIS FAMILY AND MAYBE EVEN A PROPOSAL OR PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT BC HES A GOOD BOY WHO DESERVES GOOD THINGS PLSTHX

YOU GOT IT❗️❗️❗️

Warnings: lovey dovey, swearing, kissy kissy, proposal

Warm welcome - Gaz x Reader

The kitchen calendar made you smile; partly because Gaz insisted on keeping up with them, marking and annotating and doodling in the margins, and partly because you’d been waiting for today’s date for eight months.

The deployment had gone on for much longer than it was supposed to, which was normal, but you couldn’t help the nights you spent sitting by the phone or sifting through photo albums, the images of his face the only thing you could focus on. And, he could only tell you so much; all you knew was someone on the task force needed to be rescued, and it took more than one try. Gaz told you your FaceTimes were the only thing keeping him steady. He’d also made a bold stroke in your relationship; asking his mother to call you personally.

She’d called when you were nodding off after pacing the kitchen late into the night, picking at your takeout and furiously cleaning the countertops. When your tears started rolling, the phone rang. The unknown number made you think of the worst; you picked it up in a panic.

“Is he okay?” You asked breathlessly, one hand resting at your head to steady yourself.

“Sorry?.. I might have the wrong number, is this..”

The way she said your name caught your attention; Gaz had a certain lilt to his accent that you found so cute; and now you’d heard it from the source.

“Yes..”

“I’m Kyle’s mum.”

You leaned against the kitchen island, your breathing steadying. “Hi..”

“It’s nice to hear your voice, I wish he would have brought you home last holiday.”

“He talks about me?”

A gentle laugh answered you. “Darling, he doesn’t stop.”

You blink, folding one arm under the other as you began to feel a warmth in your chest from the gesture, Kyle talking about you to his mom..

“And anyway, he gave me your number, he knows how late you stay up and wanted to make sure you had someone on the line.”

The warmth burst into a brilliant light of admiration and love for your boyfriend; he knew he couldn’t always be there, and instead of only offering an apology, he furthered your involvement in a different way.

“I- that’s..” You huffed, smiling through the dried tear streaks and headache that plagued you.

“Ma’am, I- I love your son more than I can say..”

“I’d hope so.” She replied easily.

You laughed again, your worry fizzling into a low flame.

You spent three hours on the phone that night; though it felt like minutes. You learned about Kyle; how he was during primary school, how he would dress as a differently ranked soldier every Halloween, and picked up every flyer he could to enlist out of high school. She had been terrified, of course, no mother hopes for her son to be a soldier, but she supported his job anyway. It was something you shared; a love that overpowered your fear of the worst outcome.

“What do you usually do when he arrives?”

She’d been asking how you were feeling about him coming home in a few days, if everything went to plan, that was.

“I uh, I make dinner, you know, usually I get his car washed and waxed or something nice like that for him to come home to. He loves that thing more than me.”

“He better not!”

You laughed together for the umpteenth time.

“But.. we could plan something with more people? I’d love to spend some time together in person, and you can bring anyone you like..”

“That would be amazing, darling.”

So, a few days later, Kyle’s mother and father, brother, sister, grandfather and aunt were helping you pin up streamers and a ‘welcome home’ banner, fixing a large meal, and yelling at the TV as their home city struggled in the latest aired football match.

Before they had arrived, though, you’d gone to a family-owned jeweler for a nice watch to gift him with. Skimming the rows of silver and gold plated pieces, you thought about looking somewhere else when you wandered near the ring cases. What began as pure curiosity built into a warm image of you revealing a small box, pouring everything in your mind into the room, and fitting the ring onto his perfect hands before kissing his stupidly perfect face. One band in particular was a shiny tungsten ring, stronger than steel and with a smooth, silver finish. You didn’t think, you just swiped your card.

Now, that ring sat in a velvet box under your pillow, where you examined it each night, anxiety stirring in your stomach. Was this the right time? But you couldn’t think about that now; he was almost home.

“He’s pulling in..” You murmur to the room when you spot him through the blinds, and you rush to stand near the doorway. The sound of keys jingling nearly made you break your cover out of excitement, but he pushed the door open, and the room erupted in cheers of surprise, the ‘Welcome home’ banner in the kitchen glittering in its gold letters.

His eyes widened and blinked in surprise, looking between his family in you with a disbelieving laugh. You took him in your arms, melting in the sensation of him squeezing you back just as tight as his family cooed at the gesture.

“You did this?” He murmured near your ear.

You kiss his cheek that’s facing away from his family.

“Me and your mom..”

“Oh, hell..” he stroked your cheek, his brow drawing together in further disbelief.

You led him, smiling, to the kitchen for him to hug his family next, your heart bursting when he lifted his sister in the air with the momentum of his hug.

“This is mental..” he murmured as he wrapped an arm around you again, looking around.

“You’ve got a gem, Kyle.” His father spoke earnestly.

Kyle turned to move a piece of hair away from your eyes. “Yeah, I know..”

“Big softie!” His sister teased loudly, grinning.

“Sod off..” He threw a crumpled napkin at her, making you smile at the exchange.

The dinner was amazing, but you could have eaten anything with them and enjoyed the experience. It felt like you’d stepped into a beautiful other world where you just felt right. Having him next to you, let alone in the same room, was elating after being separated from him for so long, and you couldn’t help but always be pressed against him in some way. Linking a finger, resting your leg against his, touching shoulders, anything to feel the warmth you’d been craving for the better part of a year.

When it was time to say goodbye, and the last guest closed the door behind him, Kyle kissed you deeply, holding your face delicately with both his hands.

“You’re unbelievably, incredibly, amazing..” he murmured against your lips. “Missed you so fucking much, babe..”

His accent was thicker when he spoke so honestly, and it made your head spin. Or maybe that was how he kissed you like you put the sun in the sky.

“Missed you more..” you pulled him into a close hug, nestling your head into his neck shamelessly.

“You tired?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah..” the slight guilt in his voice made you pull back slightly.

“Kyle, I get it, I promise. Let’s go to bed, baby..”

He let you lead him to the bathroom where you brushed your teeth together before changing and slipping under the covers. Your head pounded as you partially hid your hand under the pillow, clutching the small box so tightly it might have bursted if you hadn’t taken in a steadying breath.

“You alright?” Kyle traced your knuckles with his hands; he was sitting up slightly, his hat taken off along with his shirt, and the soft lamp light just lit up his eyes in the most adorable way..

“I have a question.. it’s- important.” You shifted slightly closer.

“Is everything alright?” He rephrased his question slowly, worry growing in his gaze.

“I’ll just.. show you first..” With a quick exhale, you pulled the box from underneath the pillow, gently separating your free hand from his to open the top. His eyes grew wide.

“Sweeheart..”

“I’m so in love with you.. every time I talk about you, or hear you, or see you—think of you.. I’m just so gone it makes me look stupid. I want to spend my life with you, and I want to give myself to you. Because that’s how I would feel right, and safe. With you..”

You breathed deeply.

“Kyle Garrick.. will you marry me?”

His jaw might as well have detached, because his mouth had been hanging open for half of your deceleration.

“Y-yes! Fuck, yes!” He scrambled to sit up fully as you slid the ring on, taking the first opportunity to smother you in a hug and pepper your face and neck with kisses. “I love you so much..”

Tears of adrenaline and joy stung your eyes as you laughed breathlessly.

“I love you more..”

[ghuleh-recs]

In honor of @anamelessfool’s birthday I have made us all a mixtape of my personal must-reads from her incredible arsenal of fanfiction. You are not ready for how brilliant her writing is. There is truly something for everyone. Whether you’re a reader-insert enjoyer, a terzomega enjoyer, or even a late-1970s noir mystery enjoyer—Fool’s got you covered. Tight plotting, satisfying characterizations, and lovingly constructed lore can be found in every single one of her creations. Her world building is unmatched and never fails to blow my mind. Don’t even get me started on her young papa portrayals. I frequently have to kick my feet and scream into my pillow over how wonderful (and sometimes heartbreaking) they are.

To top it off, Fool is a terrific artist and such an interesting and lovely person. Have you seen @resin-popia?! What can’t she do?

Please do yourself a favor and check out the recs below. Be sure and leave some bday comments and kudos if you do! Like I said, there is something for everyone.

Recs under the cut.

Violence & Gentleness - Primo x OC

You made me forget myself...I thought I was someone else, someone good... LATE OCTOBER 1979 Primo has his work cut out for him as the bodyguard of the beautiful and fearsome Mater Emerita Jocasta. As mystery after mystery unfolds, it becomes harder to remain a honest man in this den of thieves called the Ministry.

For One Creature's Sake - Primo and Copia

"Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it."- Frankenstein's Monster Moments in Primo's and Copia's lives.

Ribbons & Ties - Terzo x Omega

For reasons beyond Terzo's understanding, he wants to give Omega a present for the ghoul's "birthday". It proves to be a lot more complicated than Terzo realizes.

Reciprocity - Terzo x Omega

Terzo and Omega spend a tender afternoon together. Nothing bad ever happens to them ever again.

No Deal - Nihil x F!Reader

1970Nihil was one of these friends of friends of friends. Some forty-something cat who lived further up in the mountains, in what you suspected was some sort of commune. Shit like that was pretty common around here. The higher up in the mountains, the weirder folks got. Could be the altitude. You've decided to live a quiet bohemian life, but one of your clients Nihil has plans for you that afternoon other than just chatting about the latest albums.

Sweeter Red - Copia x OC

Your kiss so sweet, your sweat so sour…sometimes I’m thinking that I love you... but I know it’s only lust. Copia is a scrungly little nerd and this totally happened to him. There's something about Cardinal Marian. Maybe it's the way she infuriates him with her laissez-faire attitude, or ingnites his soul with envy of her free spirit. Rage and love, at a certain point they merge together into an overwhelming burning in the heart and mind: passion.

VIII Strength - Copia x GN!Reader

VIII STRENGTH Strength (Physical and Will), courage, persuasion, influence, compassion Copia is a pent up sort of man, he always has been. He enjoys being Papa but on his worst days the title has a near physical weight pressed across his shoulders. He comes home to you, and you can tell when it's been one of those days. Luckily, he has you to guide him.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

[koumeowkami]

artists i associate to the diabolik lovers characters

(+ explanations/headcanons!)

this is gonna be a long post since i absolutely LOVE talking about music. you may take this as a music recommendations post lol. also check my DL playlists out if you want to! 💗

SHU — WITHIN TEMPTATION

let's start with some nice symphonic metal! it's pretty obvious since shu likes classical music. he's relatively calm (maybe too much) but there's a storm inside of him: his double side fits this band a lot imo. moreover, within temptation are powerful but also ethereal, so even though they're "heavy" i think he would give a chance to them :D he would occasionally cover their songs on violin if he feels like it.

REIJI — APOCALYPTICA

staying on the symphonic metal side, we have apocalyptica. this band is so peculiar since it's only formed by three cellos and drums, but i can assure you they're metal lmao. they're neat, polished, elegant and mature: all of these are basic reiji traits! (shu likes them too but he listens to them secretly lol)

AYATO — PARAMORE / HALESTORM

here he comes. my lil punk boi. i think about too many artists when it comes to ayato, cause honestly just every pop punk artist does it for me, but early paramore music gives me HUGE teen emo vibes (both angsty and romantic) that represent ayato so well!! i already stated it in my rocker!ayato headcanons post, but he would blast the RIOT! album at every hour of the day.

regarding halestorm, they represent his "darker" side. they're heavier and more aggressively free-spirited. now tell me if he wouldn't sing Love Bites (So Do I) to yui "jokingly" lol.

KANATO — THE BIRTHDAY MASSACRE

how could i NOT associate kanato with the band that basically gave birth to the creepy cute genre, the birthday massacre? their particular goth/industrial sound blending with the vocalist chibi's cute, almost ethereal voice gives so many kanato vibes!! not to mention that the official color of the band is purple lmao. he'd find their album covers very aesthetic, i'm sure of it :D and i also think his fav album would be Violet, the creepiest of them all.

LAITO — LADY GAGA / THE PRETTY RECKLESS

basically laito's two personalities lmao. lady gaga doesn't need any introductions: her provocative and sexy persona shocked everyone and basically all of her songs could potentially be in laito's sex playlist.

the pretty reckless are also indeed sexy, but sexy-depressed??? sexy-angsty?? some of their songs are about embracing one's "dark" side, some others are about dealing with depression (especially in their latest works). i like how they both use the "sexy" façade while actually having more to offer. considering how much laito is broken inside, their music fits so well.

SUBARU — BRING ME THE HORIZON

i'll keep saying this: emo music isn't enough for this guy. this dude listens to metalcore and whatever is heavier than emo pop punk. i actually had issues with picking a band for him cause most of them are casual listens to me but!!! in the end i chose bring me the horizon. angsty emo. pure rage. that's simply subaru for you! sometimes he would sing to their songs in his room but never admit it lol.

RUKI — HIM

honestly, this guy would love gothic rock. i just know it. HIM is the perfect band for him! their dark, elegant, kinda sad sound reminds me of him a lot. and the lyrics too!! they're really poetic, mostly about love and death with a few mentions to eden (pun intended?); the vocalist ville valo often takes inspiration for his lyrics from the books he reads! ruki would definitely dedicate Vampire Heart to yui btw.

KOU — AVRIL LAVIGNE / ICON FOR HIRE

LISTEN. i've been headcanoning this ever since my first DL post ever but kou would be a huge avril lavigne fan. it would mostly represent his frivolous idol persona, but also some of what he hides underneath.

his realest and deepest side is represented by icon for hire. they're heavier, aggressive and talk a lot about sensitive topics. kou has one of the worst pasts among the DL characters and has dealt with pretty much everything going from depression, to abuse, to drug addiction, to suicidal tendencies. i think he'd find some sort of comfort in their songs.

YUMA — P.O.D.

i always pictured yuma as a hip-hop kinda guy, so i think he would like nu metal. being part of the angry and bothered trio with ayato and subaru, he's relatively the calmest one but that means nothing since we're in DL lol. p.o.d.'s passive-aggressive style reminds me of him so much and i swear i ALWAYS think about him when i listen to Youth of the Nation, it's like it talks about him and his brothers specifically.

AZUSA — EVANESCENCE

there are two types of emo: the angry emo and the sad emo. azusa obviously belongs to the second one. i can't really associate him to one genre in particular, it just depends on the ~vibes~, but i chose evanescence for him cause their lowkey eerie, slow style fits azusa a lot. fear of abandonment and selflessness are some of the themes they've covered and Lithium is the song that makes me think about azusa the most.

CARLA — NIGHTWISH

carla has that gothic royal-ish attitude that reminds of the first nightwish era (with tarja turunen as vocalist). i mostly tend to associate the deep, elegant lyrical vocals with carla's deep voice lol. it's just a matter of ~vibes~ again :D

SHIN — FROM FIRST TO LAST

this little shit would only listen to post-hardcore. nothing reminds me of shin more than a cringy "i'm angy >:(" music genre. i actually do enjoy some post-hardcore and from first to last is the exception. i think shin would fit especially in the Dead Trees era, aka FFTL's villain arc™: very silly, angsty and full of villanous vibes but more mature than their previous works.

KINO — AMARANTHE

gamer boi coming through with electronic metal!! amaranthe's futuristic mix of edm and metal + their in-your-face attitude is a perfect match with kino. PvP is THE kino song. the music, the lyrics, the game concept just suit him so well!! slay.

[jewishbarbies]

I’ve gotta say that every time Taylor releases music it makes social media an even bigger nightmare than usual. I cant escape her. Spotify suggests her. Radio stations play her latest hit on repeat. She’s on tv. She’s playing in my local town center. Youtube suggests me album reviews. TikTok goes wild.

I can’t fucking stand it.

In my opinion, she’s not all that impressive of an artist. If she didn’t have a rich father who basically made her career and made it so she’s heard literally everywhere, than she wouldn’t be distinguishable from most artists. She’s not bad, I have a handful of songs I like myself, but she’s not amazing. Where I start to dislike her as a person, or at least a public figure, is that her activism is so painfully performative that I don’t actually consider it activism at all. She’s one of the most influential people in the world yet she won’t use her platform for anything productive. Yes, one could argue that she doesn’t have to, but c’mon. Be real.

The whole thing with Matty really cemented it for me. She went out and dated a guy known for being openly bigoted, particularly his disgusting comments about black women, and then to cover her own ass did a shitty collab with Ice Spice, a woman of color who Matty had talked about, and then decided that was enough. It astounded me truly.

She’s also complained about how people only talk about her breakups and not her music, but you can’t talk about one without the other. SHE made it a talking point not everyone else because at least half her songs are about her breakups and exes. I’m not saying there wasn’t any misogyny behind the hate, there absolutely is, but people can’t pretend we focus on her dating life for no reason other than she’s a woman.

Worst part is that you can’t even question whether or not she might be the problem because how the fuck do you have almost 40 exes without Swifties appearing out of thin air to tell you all about how they sucked and were bad and how Taylor has done nothing wrong ever. Like I’m sure some of them did suck, an older man dating a younger woman is always a little suspicious to me, but I refuse to believe all of almost 40 guys were the problem when there is one common denominator.

And you can’t even say any of this without the Swifties coming after you like you committed sacrilege against God. The Swifties need to be studied.

✨rant over✨

Thanks for giving me a place to rant.

— N

[legion1227]

Katy Perry: 143 Album Review

Wow, what a load of garbage!

Katy Perry first made it big when she released "I Kissed a Girl" in 2008. The lead single reached number one on the Hot 100 and stayed at the top for several weeks. Katy capitalized on this success with numerous hits to finish off the 2000s and dominate the first few years of the 2010s pop scene. "Hot n Cold, California Gurls, Teenage Dream, Firework, E.T., Last Friday Night, Wide Awake, Roar, Dark Horse…." At one point, she harbored the recipe for smashing big hits.

She has since lost that recipe.

Perry proceeded to languish as an artist for the rest of the 2010s. None of her singles hit as much as the previously mentioned. I found her 2017 singles, "Bon Appetit" and " Swish Swish," moderately enjoyable but lacking any sweet charm of her earlier hits. And now, in the big year 2024, Perry attempts once more to make herself a tour deforce with her latest album, "143." Does she succeed?

Nope. Not even a little.

Teaming up with producer Dr. Luke, a man that Kesha alleged to have drugged her as well as abused her physically, verbally, sexually, and emotionally, the dynamic duo crafted one of the worst albums of 2024. In the span of 33 minutes, Katy Perry attacks the pop genre with generic, forgettable, poorly-written slop. "143" comes with four skilled features in 21 Savage, Kim Petras, J.I.D., and Doechii. Each artist is immensely talented in their own projects, but they bring less than their best on each of their respective songs. I mean, on "Gimme Gimme," the song featuring 21 Savage, he says, "Take my card and go shopping for weeks/No limit, you shoppin' for free/I'm in Paris, I'm shopping for we…" The play on words we and oui is perhaps the smartest bit of writing or wordplay on this album, which isn't saying a lot.

Lyrically, instrumentally, and vocally, Katy Perry is lacking in every department on this latest project. This album is not worth the time for pop fans. You're better off either re-listening to her better hits or listening to better pop albums from this year like Sabrina Carpenter's "Short N' Sweet" or Charli XCX's "Brat," to name a few.

Rating: 1.5/5 At least it's short.

[dustedmagazine]

Amy Rigby — Hang in There with Me (Tapete)

Photo by Chris Sikich

“Yeah, yeah, age is just a number. Bullshit…I don’t want age to be just a number, I want all the experiences we’ve been through to add up to something” wrote Amy Rigby in a June 2024 newsletter. That sentiment resounds on Hang in There with Me, her latest album of tough, witty rock and roll. In “Hell-Oh Sixty” the loose, boisterous song that kicks it off, Rigby reviews in brief each decade of her, more or less, adult life: “30 was the best/30 was the worst/know I was blessed/thought I was cursed”; “50 didn’t fit/had to let out the seams.” The music has a spaciousness to match the timeline: jangling steel strings slide over martial drums while fuzzy synthesizers burst and Rigby repeats the title phrase. She sounds both invigorated and uneasy; a little bit triumphant and a little bit daunted by her arrival.

Lyrically, Hang in There with Me often speaks to the stacked layers of life; the emotional and material detritus we accumulate. What to do with it? How to build on top of it; where, even, to begin. One answer: wherever you are, that’s where to start. Or, as Rigby puts it in the sunny, biting kiss-off anthem “Bricks,” “I’m working on my future days…these bricks won’t lay themselves.” You hear that weary, still defiant tone again on “Too Old To Be So Crazy,” when she sings “I tried a thousand times to give it up/fall down and fuck it up/you can call it a victory/trust the mystery” and in the “Requiem” lines “try your whole life to make something that matters…doors don’t always open/that won’t stop you hoping.” Later, around the “Paint It Black”-ish progression of the latter, she raises the stakes on Neil Young’s longevity question, wondering whether it’s better to “fall apart” than “to burn out.” There’s no question of fading away when you have so much to sort through.

It’s appropriate, then, that the music is so textured and dimensional. “Too Old to Be So Crazy” is a good example. Coming in hot after “Hell-Oh Sixty,” we get yet more jangle; more ripping guitar; and, perhaps best of all, more squelchy-gorgeous synths. The use of electronics on the album is pronounced and varied, from the windy swirls and blinking bells of the wistful “O Anjali” to the scratchy fringes and reverse reverb of the unsettling character study “Bad In A Good Way.” Nearly haptic sounds like these constantly whir and bubble up around the album’s glammy grooves, complementing the sharp but unfastened playing – take, for instance, the heavy buzz that drives the chorus of “Dylan in Dubuque.” It all hangs together thanks to a lively, naturalistic mix. Rigby, with her spouse and recording partner “Wreckless Eric” Goulden, left in all the right mic-to-amp ambience. There’s enough room to hear everything going on but not so much that it isolates or chills the warmth of any given instrument. Even something like the compression effect on Rigby’s “Heart Is a Muscle” vocal feels lived in.

One of the least adorned songs is “Bangs,” a punky piece of garage pop that contains some of the record’s best lines. Which is saying something. Rigby the writer is, as usual, funny and cutting, casual yet precise, but it’s the conviction with which she lays down a couplet like “keep your Ann Taylor and Chico’s/I didn’t come here to play” in her burned-but-not-burned-out, scuffed diamond voice that makes her lyrics really stick. It’s her humor, too, that keeps an album so concerned with the existential pulls and shoves of life so grounded.

In that regard, “Last Night’s Rainbow,” the closer, is particularly effective. Rigby opened for Warren Zevon in the last years of his life and Hang in There with Me’s final song shares something of his comic grandiosity and tragic gravitas. She begins with “today is shit/today’s a bust…” and ends “...and I must hold on…’cause I sure would miss seeing you.” Here, like in so much of Zevon’s work, relentless joie de vivre shines through the bummers. Sure, life’ll kill ya, but you already knew that and Rigby does too, so what now? Hang in There with Me catalogs a lifetime of drags, uncertainties and disasters, but returns, again and again, to the people, moments and experiences that make it worthwhile, or bearable enough. The chuckle in her voice on “maybe there’s hope/’cause last night’s rainbow/that was dope” tells you everything you need to know. It all adds up.

Alex Johnson

[earth-1218designate]

Deadpool & Wolverine #CVReview

At least the Can'nuck's did not kiss ... Is the perfect selling point of this movie. Other than that, for those of us 2000's kids who aren't mindless Disney shills (an odd amount of those in Knoxville,TN , yet they supposedly hate everything else liberals have to offer) that will laugh at every anti-FOX joke Ryan Reynolds had up his sleeve there is a great comic book film here that gives viewers a substantial amount of time with some memorable figures in their toy chest before laying them to rest for the horrors of adulthood that await them outside the theater.

I'm not into the nepotism that got Blake Lively the role as Lady Deadpool, or the gender swapping of Dogpool or Kidpook from the early 2010's "Deadpool Corps" comics, but it's easy to overlook that when the rest of the cast boasts the return of Wesley Snipes ("Blade") , (*childhood crush over that bousteir) Jennifer Garner ("Elektra") having a one-one with Callisto ("X-Men The Last Stand"), and Channing Tatum finally getting screen-time as Gambit for a film of his that never made it out of development hell.

I like the bow this film puts on that era that was dear to my formative years and made for an excellent companion piece to the books I still read today as I cross the threshold into my 30's. Marvel Comics and films have been synonymous since I was in diapers, and for a large part I have FOX to thank for that, and Disney to thumb my nose at - not the other way around like backwards normie euro-audiences are led to believe.

The nods to Wolverine's legacy in this film were superb : "Deadpool & Wolverine" is essentially built around the premise that Wolverine carried the FOX universe (aka Earth -10005) and he gets cameo appearances of his comic book counterparts such as Patch, AOA-Wolverine, Hulk No.181, Uncanny No.251, and even Fang.

All this homage while riffing on Wolverine's height and Hugh Jackman's singing chops as well as questionable morality when Disney money is brought to the table, it's a wonder why a film with Deadpool as the lead on the header isn't more about Deadpool, but it is and it delivers by making Deadpool one of the most annoying characters in a Marvel feature - which he is SUPPOSED to be.

While Wolverine is taking on Sabretooth and pulling out "Drill Claw's" straight from "Marvel vs. Capcom" (Earth-30847), Deadpool is making tone deaf homoerotic jokes that get less of a laugh than on Eminem's latest album and praising socialism in a few barbs that will zip right over capitalist consumerist audiences heads like the Rob Liefeld and Stan Lee easter eggs hidden in the battle against the Deadpool Corps featuring the worst excuse for a Deadpool ever ... Deadpool 2099 !

When "The Marvels" teased this film with Beasts' appearance, I really was nervous and expected very little. But I am happy that this film turned out to be a funeral for the best Marvel films purely off nostalgia - set to corny Euro-pop music (Madonna, Nickleback, and NSYNC get prominent placement all on the soundtrack of this action flick) while providing a gorefest with glory kills and brand new utilizations of slow motion that Zack Snyder is no doubt jealous of.

I've seen alot of clips loaded in action films as a movie buff, but I've never seen a clip loaded the way Deadpool did to face off against Wolverine in 2024 - and that's what the MCU was aiming for and delivered.

Cassandra Nova was a pleasant and surprising toy to pull out the Marvel toybox, I'd be remiss if I didnt say that. Cheering for her, the TVA, and the more baser and nihlistic stances of all the characters was a testament that Marvel raised me right - even though many people might think those of us who read comics keep our heads in the clouds.

No, "Deadpool and Wolverine" shows the world that even people who cosplay in a yellow and blue Wolverine suits can get pissed off at people who think it's okay to make decisions off of "educated wishes".

Yes, the film is still Disney-related and with it's ending featuring Deadpool still simping for Vanessa, amongst other things that make Deadpool unlikeable in this film, "Deadpool & Wolverine" is the worst Deadpool movie. But, with the nostalgia-fest added in thanks to Wolverine and the rest of the MCU rejects, "Deadpool & Wolverine" stumbles it's way into the MCU, but still falters behind far superior films like "Black Widow" or even "The Marvels" directly before it.

All that self-deprecation and self-referencing can get as old as Blake Lively before she decided to settle down with Ryan Reynolds.

Greed was a big factor in making "Deadpool vs. Wolverine" and seeing Reynolds' name all over the credits with Shawn Levy, made we wonder where did Tim Miller go? Because I know if he would have been along for the ride "Deadpool vs. Wolverine" would have been a worthy cap-end to the Deadpool franchise, than just used as a segue to eventually ret-con the X-Men into Earth-19999.

Which all the nostalgia from being a 2000's kid in the world cannot hide "Deadpool vs. Wolverine" from being that cheap. Even "Madame Web" had more tact than that.

-

C.V.R. The Bard

25th Jul. 2k24

[bravagente]

my two cents no one asked for about the damiano and giorgia split. first paragraphs might sound harsh but i promise the post isn’t.

i don’t honestly believe damiano and giorgia were non-exclusive. not only did they never mention it despite sharing a lot about themselves, but with such an overwhelming social media presence the fact that nothing of that sort (certainly nothing as impossible to misunderstand as that video) has ever emerged before can only make you conclude the open relationship thing doesn’t add up. in fact, they seemed like a pretty committed couple with cats. 

i think they agreed to say they were non-excusive so that people would hopefully stop saying mean, humiliating things about giorgia (they aren’t). i see where she in particular came from, i kinda get why she said it and i respect her, i just respectfully don’t buy it. 

my guess is they grew apart as he began to spend a huge amount of time abroad, living a completely different life than he would once, and he probably changed over time. we tend to forget how young he is and while their age gap is really minimum it can make a lot of difference between young adults. love can naturally fade or evolve into platonic affection at certain stages in someone’s lives, let alone in one’s 20s. again, my guess, but i think they broke up in a probably not ideal, but peaceful, way, and he might not have told her he was attracted to someone else, someone she and the whole band knew on top of that. that explains her being hurt enough to unfollow (maybe block?) everyone involved. 

where i draw the line is at the idea that he’s always cheated and yada yada, a theory many in italy seem to share (especially among the cynical and gen xers, who project the ethics of old rockstars on the new). 

i absolutely think damiano has been smitten for a long time. coraline alone would suffice to prove that, and when he cried performing it at sanremo he confirmed both to a journalist and by liking a particular tweet that he got emotional because the song is about her. even with the band’s latest album, when asked which songs in it were his favourites he mentioned the two (one is timezone, i forget the other one because tbh i didn’t listen to rush a lot) that were pretty clearly about her or at the very least inspired by their relationship. such professions of love were never super showy and “out there”, he wouldn’t go around dropping her name and releasing statements about their relationship like celebrities do one week before they get into the worst divorce ever, and i think the subtlelty of it all is testament to how genuine his feelings were. 

their posts on social media were similarly discrete except in rare occasions, which is always a green flag of a steady, healthy relationship (again, think of influencers and celebs who are posting about their love lives all the time right before they split horribly). this makes even more sense to me when i consider that giorgia tended to post a bit more, since i personally think she’s more insecure than he is, but overall they posted like a solid team and not like a couple that’s desperately trying to persuade you of how happy they are. 

plus, as someone who's been through STUFF, i think additional proof of his strong feelings for her is the fact that he stuck with her in sickness and in health for years at such a young age. this might sound like i’m praising a man for doing the bare minimum but again, i’ve been in a somewhat similar place as giorgia i can’t elaborate about without oversharing and i can promise not every young man will have it in himself to support you and endure some things with you no matter what, and for so long. 

[lunapaper]

Album Review: 'Viva Las Vengeance' - Panic! At The Disco

Brendon Urie is one petty little bitch. 

Years later, the Panic! At The Disco frontman is still hung up on his former bandmates, Dallon Weekes and Ryan Ross, letting the salt run free on the band’s latest record, Viva Las Vengeance. 

‘Local God,’ the album’s fourth track, is Brendon at his most ugly and bitter, delivering backhanded lines like ‘You'll live forever as a local God/It's even better than the thing you're not,’ as if he’s condescendingly patting Ryan and Dallon on the head whilst assuring them ‘It’s okay, guys! At least you still got Open Mic Night at that shitty dive bar by the highway! Oh, by the way, did you see me melting faces off at the Bellagio the other night?’ He also can’t help but rub it in how ‘It's 2021 and I'm almost famous,’ simultaneously downplaying his fame and thirsting for more. 

It’s quite ironic telling Ryan and Dallon that they had so many chances to become superstars when Brendon spends a significant chunk of Viva Las Vengeance looking back on his glory days in Vegas and complaining about the price of fame (the latter a common theme since the release of 2016’s Death of a Bachelor). 

On ‘Star-Spangled Banner,’ he recalls playing Liberace’s piano at a house party and getting a lip ring down at the mall with Katie and Brittany. ‘I thought that I had friends, I thought I even liked them/But now I'm thinkin' maybe not so much,’ he muses on the aptly-titled ‘Sad Clown, ‘I hit the spacebar, I cannot play guitar,’ popping happy pills while scrolling through hate tweets (or as the rest of us call it, ‘valid criticism’).  

But that’s about as much self-reflection as you’re gonna get on Viva Las Vengeance. This is such a strange record; so delusional and filled with such undeserved ego from Brendon, even outright defensive at times. The production value is cheesy and overblown, hell-bent on being as obnoxious as fucking possible. Each song sounds as repetitive as the last, with Brendon shamelessly ripping off his idols under the guise of homage. 

‘God Killed Rock and Roll’ is a blatant Queen rip-off even by Brendon’s standards. The Bohemian Rhapsody hype is over, can we just let it go already?? (The film wasn’t even good!) Although it’s just in time for the Elvis biopic hype, I guess, judging by Brendon’s goofy impression in the pre-chorus. 

‘Sugar Soaker’ is like the dinner theatre version of a Grease track, coated in a thick layer of chintzy pop grease. ‘All By Yourself’ obviously interpolates Eric Carmen’s 1975 classic, turning it into one of those emotionally manipulative underdog anthems as if Brendon really gives a shit whether you dyed your hair pink to piss off Mum and Dad or got your arse kicked at school by Chad and his gaggle of jocks. Brendon stopped being the underdog the moment he decided to turn Ryan Ross’ creative vision into a soulless pop factory, churning out total dogshit. 

‘Star-Spangled Banner,’ meanwhile, is quite possibly the worst song Panic! Has ever produced. It’s a two-for-one deal: A Queen and a Thin Lizzy rip-off! It sounds like the kind of shit Glee would’ve covered back in the day, probably in an episode about the Glee Club feeling like a bunch of freaks after nobody applauded their saccharine rendition of Lil Jon’s ‘Bend Ova’ during school assembly.  

And why does Brendon feel the need to belt every goddamn line on this record?? More often than not, he struggles to hit those high notes, which is just so painful to listen to. If Brendon keeps this up, he’s gonna have no voice left... 

Viva Las Vengeance also has the misfortune of featuring some of Brendon’s sleaziest lyrics yet. 

His makeup sex in the middle of a breakup is about as enticing as a kick to the nads. He calls his woman a ‘lil sugar soaker’ with ‘red tail lights in the back of her head,’ threatening to drive her till she’s dead. And I’m sure whatever’s left of Panic!’s fandom will have absolutely no problem with Brendon turning domestic abuse into a catchy pop track, encouraging Maggie to hit her boyfriend back... 

The nerve of Brendon to call Ryan and Dallon local gods. The Brobecks gave us the magnum opus that was Violent Things. Ryan spun pure gold out of lines like ‘Sugarcane in the easy morning/Weathervanes my one and lonely,’ one of the most devastatingly romantic couplets committed to a pop song in recent times. It also didn’t take six people to write... 

And how does Brendon manage to express his love? Courtesy of ‘Don’t Let the Lights Go Out’: ‘You’re the only one that can operate my heavy machinery.’   

Simply put, this album is fucking trash. It’s the audio equivalent of linoleum: Dull, sterile and incredibly tacky. Brendon manages to hit new lows I didn’t even think were possible after Death of a Bachelor and 2018’s Pray for the Wicked. Here, his ego is just out of fucking control, at his most theatre kid worst. I mean, why bother listening to Viva Las Vengeance when you can just listen to IDKHow’s ‘Choke’ instead? That’ll give you a pretty good idea of just how much of a self-absorbed piece of shit Brendon is... 

‘We are the new Dead Kennedys,’ he has the gall, the gumption, the sheer audacity to claim on ‘Star-Spangled Banner.’ Bitch, you’re barely Imagine Dragons at this point. You’re less relevant than MGK. You’re Adam Levine-lite, with the same level of skill when it comes to seduction.  

You wouldn’t even be in possession of the Panic! name in the first place if it weren’t for Ryan. You’re not better than somebody just because you’re richer and more famous. You’ve managed to burn every bridge with almost every bandmate at this point, yet you wonder why you’re so lonely and miserable at the top. You might be the voice of Panic!, but they were the talent. You live a sad and delusional existence, and you’ve successfully managed to destroy whatever goodwill you still had from however many Panic! fans remain with this record. Well done. As the kids like to say: Retire, bitch. 

Don’t bother listening to Viva Las Vengeance. Do something better with your time and go listen to IDKHow or The Young Veins instead.  

- Bianca B. 

[twilightofthe]

More character prompts from this post!

Did Obi Wan’s here

What does your blorbo's phone/laptop/car/backpack look like?

Padmé

Phone:

Ok so Padmé isn’t stupid, Ani, she knows what planned obsolescence is, she knows the tech industry is predatory and stupid and Apple is some of the worst, but living in a capitalist society means you have to participate in capitalism and she likes the convenience of Apple software, so she always has the newest iPhone. She likes to get them in regular silver or white.

Her phone screen has a protector on it and you BET there is no crack to be seen because her phone is very much her baby. The case for the phone is a pretty marble/geometric/metallic design that’s got decent enough ratings online in terms of protection. Maybe it has one of those little built-in slots where you can put a spare credit card or ID, and if it does, she actually uses it lol

Her lockscreen is a screenshot of her weekly schedule because she is a neurotic type-A over planner and she needs that along with her twenty million alarms and reminders of everything all the time 

Her homescreen is actually a cute picture of Anakin/Satine/Sabé/Obi Wan/whoever she’s in a relationship with, or if she has Luke and Leia it’s Luke and Leia. All her apps are meticulously organized into categorized boxes and everything is positioned on the screen so you can actually see the homescreen background and everything is accessible

She has no less than five different email apps. She checks all of them meticulously.

And this is just her personal phone, it’s not even the phone she keeps for work lmao

Laptop:

Pads also has the latest up to date MacBook Pro.

She’s like Obi Wan and she keeps a cleaning cloth for the screen because the dirty screen CONSTANTLY getting schmutz all over it drives her nuts

Her laptop background is some aesthetic floral background, but she actually has a screensaver slideshow of one of her photo albums with people she likes on it

She has a laptop case, it’s also very aesthetic and something with pretty abstract patterns in pastel colors, she has a matching colored rubber keyboard cover to keep yuck out of the keys.

Car:

Akshskdhk Padmé honey I’m so sorry I keep giving you literally every single one of the stereotypes for the rich liberal white women who were in my area growing up, but let’s be real that’s what you are 😂

So yeah Padmé has a new model shiny silver luxury electric sedan. She’s got a good job and rich parents

Not a Tesla because fffffuck Musk but one of those other brands. She feels like a BMW driver to me but idk if they come in electric.

Her license plate is specialized with her initials and has a special plate because she donates to the state wildlife society

She’s a faster driver; there isn’t really any wear and tear on the outside, like not in terms of dents, but there’s stress on the tires

Nice leather seats, seatwarmers, great sound system, the works. She’s always got a vanilla air freshener in it, it smells nice enough and she keeps the front area fairly clean, but do NOT open up the trunk or the glove compartment or pull down the sun visors, she’s got twenty million emergency first aid kits and spare outfits and boxes of pads and apocalypse prep boxes and three knives and four shopping bags of things she needs to return and bags of stuff she’s going to donate to the poor/soup kitchens

One of the check engine lights or something is constantly flickering on and off, Pads ignores it because “eh I need my car, I don’t have much time to get it fixed and nothing seems to be wrong with it, it should be fine”. Anakin’s eye twitches every time he sees it because not only is it something Broken he’s not currently Fixing(TM), he’s honestly not sure he CAN fix it because these new techy digital cars are extremely anti-self repair, and that just gets him and Padmé right back into the planned obsolescence argument again.

Backpack:

Bold of you to assume Padmé Amidala only has one (1) backpack

She has multiple high quality ones that suit her various needs

Two for school/work. They’re the same brand, small and one is plain leather and one is bougie-plaid and they depend on what outfit she’s wearing. They contain her laptop spare electronics and chargers, her emergency kit, umbrellas, and her purse

She’s got like three more for leisure. A bit more slouchy and aesthetic for just carrying random stuff when she doesn’t want a purse, still contain everything you could possibly need

Also one sports backpack

All in top quality shape

[babbbles]

A letter to my inner child:

Hey. It’s been a while… my life has changed and I think it’s for the better, mostly. I finally left home and moved to an entirely different country and it’s been good. I love my roommates, I found a job, I’m starting to look forward to things again. I finally stood up to her and told her how much she hurt us, and while, sadly, she still refuses to acknowledge everything and still victimizes herself, we’re doing better. We don’t call as much, J and I have a somewhat of a closer relationship. I miss home and it’s not even home, it’s the people that made it feel like home. My seasonal depression is kicking in and I’ve been thinking about how life is pulling all of us in different directions and I sometimes wonder if I’ll actually ever go back home again or if I’ll see most of my inner circle again. We’ve made new friends, too! It’s scary but we’re better, I can promise you that. We’ve had to let people go and while some of them hurt most than others, we’ve been better off without them. You’re still dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia, but I think one day we’ll get rid of it. Um, we have a cat and he’s the chonkiest. You also have a niece and you’ll literally put your loathing of children aside whenever you’re around her, she’s honestly amazing and we both love Harry Styles, too.

I’m scared of this new chapter of our life if I’m being completely honest. Being away from 90% of your triggers is weird, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, to see if she’s back and angry. But most of all, I miss my grandparents. They’re my world and leaving feels like I’m going to wake up one day in a different country to the news that they’ve died and I don’t want them to, I want them to live forever because they raised me- they’re my real parents and most days I sit down and think of I actually made the wise decision to leave because while I am happy, I am shattered that they’re not here with me.

In less depressing news, you had your first tinder hookup, started university, bought your clothes for fall and winter, and let me tell you, we are very excited to see snow for the first time and probably end up hating it by February. Your roommate took you to a corgi parade and it was AMAZING! You’re making friends at uni and it’s fun seeing so many international people in one place. We have plans to find a therapist here to try and figure out if there’s underlying issues to our diagnosis and maybe even get a different one.

You also had the happiest summer of your life. We actually lived long enough to see our best friend graduate college and she now has the job she dreamed of. We went to two concerts and you had the time of your life. Harry released his latest album just in time for the summer and Matilda hits too close to home but our favorite song from the album is probably satellite. You went out to hang out with friends and got home extremely late on multiple occasions and only got caught drunk one time, but it’s all good- you were starting to be yourself. You taught abuela how to make cakes and decorate them and you also gave her a lot of recipes before you left. You stood up to mom, establish some boundaries, and you made sure that your brother was going to be alright. Last but not least, you managed to say goodbye to everyone you wanted to and you even called the friends that had moved to the states because even though they were far away, you always carry them with you everywhere you go.

Even though the worst season for us has started, I see a light at the end of it and it’s really refreshing to have some hope and aspirations after a decade of just wanting to be six feet under. We’ll be alright, I promise, it’s my turn to take care of you now.

With love,

You.

[merylodrama]

143

Katy Perry — 2024

★★☆☆☆

3.2

After 15 years into the pop machine, and a 4-year break since her latest album, you'd think Katy Perry would be able to finally take the time to mature her music and explore new horizons.

A lot have changed since the One Of The Boys days. The once acclaimed-for-her-songwriting-skills artist who became an inescapable act of the pop music scene in the early 2010s, failed to maintain that attention with 2017's Witness and did even worse with her totally forgotten record Smile (2020).

On 143, she still fails to convey any message but this time in an even more mediocre way. The childish lyrics throughout the record are empty and hollow. The production sounds like it's coming straight from 2016 in a distastefully bad way. It's dated and lacks any purpose.

The wide array of features on the record would've been interesting if they actually added anything more interesting than what's already there with Katy. Doechii's participation on I'M HIS, HE'S MINE is appreciated however. Perry's vocals are so processed without adding anything to the songs and most of the melodies are some of the most annoying ones on a pop record in a long time. It is hard to believe that her or any of her collaborators haven't promped some AI program to generate at least some melodies and lyrics for them. It's that bad.

Worse, 10 out of the 11 songs on this record have Dr. Luke credited on them which, since WOMAN'S WORLD's very bad press release, immediately terminated any of Katy Perry's current or future attempts at making purposeful pop. Katy, if the message you're trying to convey to us is a positive and feminist one, please try not to work with people who represent the total opposite of what you're trying to defend. The thirst you have for going back to your Teenage Dream days should help you reinvent your entire career, not lead you to work with the worst people known to the pop industry. This whole situation ended the entire era without letting it even start, and tarnished Katy Perry's career for ever.

143 lacks any personality and won't manage to make it's imprint this year among the other, much more interesting, major pop records released in 2024.

WOMAN'S WORLD — 4.4

GIMME GIMME (feat. 21 Savage) — 2.6

GORGEOUS (feat. Kim Petras) — 2.8

I'M HIS, HE'S MINE (feat. Doechii) — 3.6

CRUSH — 2.8

LIFETIMES — 2.9

ALL THE LOVE — 6.7

NIRVANA — 3.0

ARTIFICIAL (feat. JID) — 2.1

TRUTH — 2.7

WONDER — 1.7

Total : 3.2/10