my spin for that call me song

“Keith, my man, my buddy, you’re ruining the mood here by laughing at me.”

“You’re the one spinning us in circles while wailing a freaking Dashboard Confessional song–”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s called serenading–I am serenading you, with a song of your people, because we don’t have actual music to dance to.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘my people’?”

“You know, an emo song. Full of emotional declarations like: ’My hopes are so high so your kiss might kill me’.”

“Oh my god.”

He loves him anyway.

@everythingelse-and-more tagged me in a thing where I post 5 things that make me happy and then tag the 10 most recent people in my notifications, so here goes…

1. Pokemon! I’ve loved it ever since I was a little girl, literally my earliest memory is watching the episode Bulbasaur’s Mysterious Garden and singing along to the theme song with my parents… I own every main series game and a lot of the spin-offs and I love all of my pokemon a lot.  I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving pokemon.

2.  There’s this girl I found on Her and like I’ve only known of her existence for like 3 days and I’ve never seen her in person but she seems really sweet… She sent me a good morning text at 8 AM today and she called me hun and my heart almost stopped (I get flustered really easily in case you couldn’t tell) and talking to her has put me in a really good mood these past few days, we have a date for Friday so wish me luck!

3.  Bingsoo.  It’s a Korean shaved ice dessert and lemme tell you it’s amazing!  My friends and I actually just got back from a bingsoo run like 10 minutes ago.  The one by where I live also sells sweet potato lattes, which literally taste like drinking a creamy sweet potato and its amazing.

4.  Tea.  I drink an absurd amount of tea… I have vanilla green, raisin rum biscotti, Irish breakfast, chai, white ginger pear, coconut truffle, and a few more that I can’t think of right now, and those are just my loose-leaf ones!  I have a few bags of sleepytime vanilla, honey chamomile, some jasmine green, and some more irish breakfast bc its what gets me going in the morning.  I almost always have a cup of tea in my hand.

5.  Baking.  I’m kind of sad bc I don’t get to bake often anymore, but I’m really good at it.  I make really pretty cupcakes, like honey-cinnamon, espresso with matcha frosting, rose cardamom, lemon basil, etc etc I also have made matcha shortbread cookies and early grey shortbread cookies, and I made a glorious victoria sponge with homemade rose-raspberry-orange-pistachio jelly in the middle layer it was soooo good…  And once I got really ripe peaches from some Amish dudes so I made cinnamon rolls that also had homemade peach jam rolled up in the center… I miss baking and now I’ve made myself hungry oops.

Anyway, I tag @thefrozenrose, @radicallysweet, @rad–qxeen, @tealady, @lisbian-lezards, @toomanymurlocs, @sellofane, @speedybirb, @mildscumbag, and @godheadd

Last night, we made something in your shower
but I don’t want to call it love.
Because I know what all your love has turned in to.
All the other lovers: just a bunch of names
that your roommates whisper while I’m around.
All the other lovers: just a forgotten teeshirt
that your cat took a shit on.
All the other lovers: just lyrics to your sad songs.
I don’t want to be the girl who makes
your voice crack at the chorus.
God dammit though, the way you
spin me like a swing dancer
has got me thinking that this is what my parents
must have looked like two decades ago,
like this must be fate.
But my family has two Christmases now
and I have far too many trust issues to
let myself imagine we are anything more
than a few weeks from disaster.
So each night I’ve been skipping my prayers
not even wanting to mention your name to god,
not even sure if they’re listening anymore.
But if by some miracle they are I just can’t risk
getting anyone else’s hopes up with 
with stories of us making pasta at 2am. 
I’m not ready to be a skipping vinyl again.
I’m fine. He’s gone.
I’m fine. He’s gone.
I’m fine. He’s gone.
I’m gone.
He’s fine.
Please, I don’t want to 
have to burn the Polaroids.
This could all be so easy,
we could make love
in your shower every Saturday.
—  b.e.fitzgerald (honestly, we’re already fucked)
No, you just don’t get it. You took my breath away and left a galaxy spinning inside me and i haven’t stopped thinking about you since. I want you to know that i look for you every day in the comfort of a cup of coffee, the pages of my favourite book, the best parts of the songs that rip my heart to shreds, unanswered calls,  i look for you in everyone i meet.
You see, if i could only find the words to tell you how much i adore you. And i love you. I love you. I love you, but i never know when to say it.
See, i want to tell you everything, why i fell in love with you when i swore to myself i would never let someone close to me. Why your eyes look like a home.
I want to know about the deepest parts of your soul, the parts that you’re convinced no one could ever love.
—  11:01 pm //  i hope you won’t regret me

im making cookies while dancing around my kitchen and so my phones in one hand and a carton of eggs is in the other. I go to do a dramatic spin because the song calls for it of course and lose my footing and instead of dropping my phone I let go of the eggs to catch myself and now my sock is covered in egg gunk. who have i wronged in life for this to happen please tell me karma.

SPIN Names ‘The Desired Effect’ One of the Best Pop Albums of 2015

SPIN has named Brandon Flowers’ ‘The Desired Effect’ one of The 25 Best Pop Albums of 2015.

Eve Barlow, writing for SPIN, says

There’s a song that forms the centerpiece of the Killers frontman’s second solo LP called “Between Me And You” which you must listen to in the car, on an open road, with your navigation system on mute. “These hours I’m working ain’t nearly enough / And sometimes it’s like a bullet that just blasted me right out of the blue / But I’m doing my best not to let it get / Between me and you,” he sings, sweating the weight of adult responsibility while representing this Great American ideal of the Man, the Breadwinner, the Hero. It comes paired with an obvious melody forming his most Springsteen moment yet, but it also relocates Flowers’ identity on an album full of surprises, which include a Bronski Beat-sampling “I Can Change” and the sax-blasting nostalgia trip of “Lonely Town.” This is the closest he gets to laying to rest his self-imposed mission to be as great as his rock forefathers. Finally, the man just owns being himself.

Taken from Sweet Talk.

Raspberry Beret

Hey ya’ll here’s a quick one-shot. It’s just a little something that came to me while going pee this morning. I’m still working on my spin-off for sister song (thinking of calling it california dreaming) but hope this will do for now.


Finn tidied up the counter of the record store, waiting mournfully for the clock to strike 6, signalling the end of his shift. He loved working there. That wasn’t the problem. The problem had been that for the past month he’s been obsessively trying to avoid the giggling idiots that wait for him outside the store tossing hair flips and lip-gloss covered pouts in his direction upon his exit. It was Chop’s fault really. He had been trying to get at this bird named Brittany who was basically a pop queen clone who did nothing but gossip and pout, but she was fit and Chop was desperate. After he and her friends spent a grueling 20 minutes trying to create conversation at the chippie, Chop had decided to ensnare his friend in the horrible moment by walking the girls down the 3 blocks it took to get to the record shop, turning Finn’s oasis into a bubblegum-smelling, backstreet-boys-listening, miniature hell. After Chop had shagged her he had dropped her instantly, but it didn’t stop her mates from attempting to get at Finn. He had finally had it two weeks ago and told them if they weren’t buying nothing they needed to get out of the store. However this backfired as they only saw the grumpy sod attitude as a declaration that Finn was some sort of bad boy, and hence the tween blockade had begun.

It was ten minutes to closing when he heard the bell of the door ring. He was ready to murder whoever it was keeping him from a safe and quiet exit, but when he looked up from the till time stopped. She was beautiful. No it was more than that. She was the sun. She was air. She was wearing a raspberry beret. She had long black hair, skin the color of snow, eyes the color of whiskey, and a look on her face that was absolutely determined. It took Finn a moment to realize that she was speaking to him and after a quick shake of his head and a “sorry” he asked her to begin again.

She smiled as she said, “I said do you have a copy of Hole’s Live Through This on vinyl?”

It takes him a second to answer her. He was too busy checking her out to thoroughly process her request. When he finally looked back at her face he noted a faint blush on her cheeks, clearly aware of the fact that he had been staring her up and down for the past few seconds.

“Uh, uhm… yeah I think we might have it. Let’s just ah, let’s take a look see shall we?”

“Lead the way” she nods her head toward the rows and Finn’s heart skips a beat at the sight of her smile.

As he’s leading her down the aisle marked “H” in the rock section he’s suddenly self conscious of his appearance. Normally he didn’t give a flying fuck how he looked but after seeing her in that little black pleated skirt, docs, Christian Death band-tee and of course that adorable beret, he just didn’t feel like he was cool enough to be checking her out.

“Ah here we are” he lifts the record from the middle section of the area marked “Hole” as it was hiding behind a few copies of Celebrity Skin and hands it to her gingerly as to not drop it.

“Thank you sir! You have no idea how long i’ve been wanting this, they ran out at Randy’s down the street and the charity shop was absolutely no help!”

She clutched the record to her chest and it was only then that she allowed herself to really look at the fit bloke in front of her.

“You like American music then?” He asks stupidly. He doesn’t know why that popped out, but before he could berate himself any further she answers quickly.

“Mostly just the girl bands but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to having a soft spot for some of their punk and alternative bands. I could listen to Interpol’s Antics for hours.” She smiles softly to herself, dreaming of doing just that with the album she’s currently possessing.

Before Finn can answer he hears Archie enter the shop.

“Finn the fan club is gone you can head out safely now!”

Arch walks right past their aisle looking at neither Finn nor the girl that is in front of him and heads straight to the break room to put his things away.

“That’s my cue to end my shift but I can ring you up before I go.”

“Oh i’m so sorry! I didn’t realize… fuck see I have this one track mind. All i could think about was getting this before I got home I didn’t mean to keep you past your time.” She says apologetically.

He smiles at her and shakes his head slightly.

“I would of done the same. I get tunnel vision when it comes to music too. That’s why it’s so much easier working in a record shop because at least what i’m daydreaming about is right in front of me.”

He gives her a look that she can’t quite read, but it almost seems to say that he could have been talking about her in that moment as well. He walks over to the till, her following close behind him and after completing the transaction, he holds onto her record for just a second longer than necessary.

“Umm, I know this is a bit strange seeing how we just met and all, but would you, I mean that is… would you like to maybe get together sometime?”

He doesn’t know how he doesn’t just fall through the floor. He fumbled that so badly that it takes him a moment to realize that rather than grab for the record she’s turning over the receipt that he had placed on top of it and is writing something down.

“Here’s my number. Give me a call sometime” she says with a wink.

He stands their flabbergasted and can’t help but let the grin that’s on his face completely take it over. He almost forgets that he hasn’t even introduced himself as he’s watching her retreating back. He calls out to her, voice cracking slightly, “What’s your name?!”

She turns back slowly and says with a smirk, “It’s Rae as in Rachel. I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you Finn.”

And with that she walks out the store.

Finn is still at the till staring at the blank spot in front of the door she once occupied, his previous worries completely forgotten, and hears Archie from the side of him chuckling slightly and singing softly, “She wore a raspberry beret…”

Thinking Out Loud

I lift her hand above her head and she giggles before ducking to spin, her blue dress fanning out and brushing against my legs. Her eyes glimmer in the dim light, the rich green a striking contrast to her lightly tanned skin. She is beautiful, in the purest and truest sense of the word, and the mass of couples dancing around us cannot tear away my attention. Catching me staring, wondering for the thousandth time how I am lucky enough to call her mine, she grins bashfully and moves closer to me as the song fades before a new one begins.

The opening piano notes are clear and definite, and I feel a flicker of regret that I had stopped playing. I wrap my arm around her slim waist, fingering the silky material of the dress as she takes her hand out of mine to push a chunk of her dark blonde hair away from her eyes. I begin to hum along to the vaguely familiar song, though it was released many years ago, I still know the tune.

She places her manicured hand in my waiting palm and we begin to sway to the smooth melody that I know from so long ago. “People fall in love in mysterious ways,” I sing softly, more to myself than to the girl I think I love, “maybe just the touch of a hand… ”

Slow strokes of fingers on cheeks, dancing over my eyelids as he held me close, falling asleep in his warm embrace.

I shake my head, almost frantically when her attention turns to the people beside us. I know this song. My palms begin to itch and I swing my head toward the stage, picking out the lead singer. “I fall in love with you every single day, and I just want to tell you I am.”

The anxiety. What if he didn’t feel the same way? “I.. I love you.” I managed to choke out, fearing the rejection that would surely appear in his bright blue eyes. The rejection that never came. “I love you too, you goose.” My smile was the biggest it had ever been, and we were both crying, because we knew this was special, and he gathered me in his arms and for once everything was right and okay and I was so very glad that I was alive.

“Take me into your loving arms,” the man on stage sang fluidly, “Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.”

Passionate kisses in the dark, the only light a strip of moonlight escaping from the curtains. My breath catching, his fingers tangled in my hair, our skin riddled with dark marks. I was falling, not like I had before, not into despair or hopelessness, but deeper and deeper in love with the man who had saved me.

I could barely make out the singer now. My vision was clouded with the unshed tears that I thought had dried up long ago.

“Place your head on my beating heart, I’m thinking out loud.”

The day when hiding and pretending had all become too much, and he found me curled on the floor behind our bed, begging him to just leave me alone, that I was fine, that it was okay. Of course had hadn’t listened to me, he never did. He silenced my whispered apologies of “I can’t do this anymore” and “I’m sorry”, planting kisses on my neck, distracting me from my thoughts until there was no more subscribers or followers or managers, there was just Phil Phil Phil everywhere. I listened to the beating of his heart long after he had fallen asleep, the steady thump thump that reminded me of when he told me that I wasn’t the only one hurting, that he needed me as much as I needed him, and I made a decision to be there for him, as long as he wanted me.

I subconsciously gripped her hand harder as she carried on her conversation, forcing myself to keep moving, to act as if everything was okay, to act as if the past was forgotten.

“We found love right where we are.”

The conventions were always the hardest, having to pretend to be ‘just friends’ for days on end. Our nights were spent huddled closer than usual, as if to make up for the coming hours of strictly platonic interaction. I lost track of where my body ended and his began, aching to go home and be able to kiss him without the worry of cell phone cameras. I had never expected this. With that first comment, I had begun a chain of events that seemed to end with us living happily ever after.

“When my memory fades and the crowds don’t remember my name, I know you will still love me the same.”

I was in awe at what we had created. A home to call our own, even if it was simply an apartment, it was our apartment, filled to the brim with pieces of each of us. A book, in which we carefully avoided the subject of our relationship, allowing the fans to draw their own conclusions from the various not-so-subtle hints scattered throughout. Though we guessed that most had already deducted the state of our relationship, given that I simply could not keep my hand off of him, a fact painfully evident in live appearances. We had fashioned this life for ourselves, we were the rulers of our own little universe, but we never grew tired of each other. We were never bored in our relationship, it was too dynamic, too ever-changing, too true to ever end.

I had stopped dancing, I simply stood in the middle of the room, letting the memories was over me like rain. She bumped her hip against mine, her eyes never leaving the face of the person she was talking to.

“’Cause honey your soul could never grow old, it’s evergreen.”

“Jesus, Phil, did you really need to get a live Christmas tree?”

“Come on, babe! It’s our tenth Christmas together, don’t you think it calls for a celebration?” He smiled, eyes crinkling.

“No.” I replied, pouting childishly. I didn’t mean it, I loved his impulsive ways, I just wished that he had chosen a warmer day to impulsively drive out to the middle of nowhere for a tree that would die in two weeks and that I would have to spend years cleaning up the needles from. His face fell a millimeter at my words, prompting me to remember how fragile and sensitive my lion was and I reached out my hand and clasped it around his.

“I’m kidding. I’m sorry, you know how I get.” He nodded, blushing a bit.

“I know.”

I always felt bad when I said things before I thought them through. I loved Phil, loved him so much, and he didn’t deserve to ever think that he wasn’t enough or that he had done something wrong. I tended to revert to my old ways of dealing with people, constantly needing to put them down before they hurt me, which they surely would. Phil would never hurt you, I scolded myself, he’s here to stay.

“I love you, okay?” I stopped walking and tilted his chin up so I could look into his blue orbs. I needed to make sure that he knew I didn’t mean it, that I cared for him with everything that I had.

“I love you, too, Dan.” He replied immediately, and I felt a shiver of happiness run down my spine. He was so forgiving, so tender, and I was so glad that he was mine. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. They were cold, and a bit chapped from the frigid wind, but they were still Phil. My rock.

“Catch me if you can!” I jumped away from him and took off running down the snowy lane lined by pine trees, wanting my playful little lion back.

“Dan!” He half-cried and half-groaned after me, unwilling to exert any energy, “Come back! Dan!”

“Dan!” My eyes slid back into focus on the girl in front of me. Her earlier bubbly look had vanished and she seemed furious. “Hello? Dan?”

“Y-yeah?” I stammered, trying to calm my racing heart.

“You’re hurting me!” She said, pointing to her hand still clenched in mine. I instantly felt guilty, releasing her hand and flushing red when I saw the half-moon shaped indents on her fingers.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to I just-” Just what, Dan? Got caught up in thoughts of the past?

“Save it.” She spat, “I’ll dance with Sara for a while.” I now noticed the shorter girl standing beside us who gave me a pitying glance. I mumbled a response and rubbed my arm in embarrassment and guilt before tripping over my feet and heading to the nearest empty seat. The table was deserted, save for a man leaning up against the wall, likely drunk out of his mind like the majority of the people here. I sat down heavily, sighing as I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me again.

“And, baby, your smile’s forever in my mind and memory.”

His smile lit up my laptop screen. He was travelling for meetings and I was left at home to try and not feel lonely, which never worked.

“Hey, baby.” He said, running a hand through his hair tiredly.

“Hi!” I almost-squealed. Woah, Dan, tone it down, I told myself. It’s just Phil.

His eyes crinkled lazily as he flipped on to his side and pulled his laptop closer to his face.

“How were the meetings?” I asked him, happy to finally get to talk to the person my thoughts always seemed to lead to.

“Long. Boring. I wish you were here.” He sniffed, and I thought that he was crying, before he blew his nose and told me that he was coming down with a cold.

“I want cuddles.” I said in a soft whisper, trying, and failing, not to show Phil just how lonely I really was.

“Aw, baby…”

“Actually no, I don’t want cuddles. I just want you.” He closed his eyes and pulled the hotel comforter around his neck.

“I want you too.”

“I feel like we’re back in our own separate rooms, all the way across the country.” I say softly, remembering the months we spent before meeting in person.

“Wow, 2009.” He giggles, opening his eyes and, though he is looking through a webcam, I feel as if he is looking at me from mere inches away.

“Remember that? Look how far we’ve come.”

“I’m proud of us.” He says sleepily, “Though we still are just two nerds who happen to make youtube videos.”

“We’ve done so much…” I think for a while before speaking again, “Thank you, Phil.”

“Hm?” He raises his eyebrows at my words and I struggle to pull my thoughts together before deciding, fuck it, it’s Phil. He doesn’t care if I’m a bumbling idiot.

“It’s just… I don’t know. Before I met you, I was in trouble. I was messed up and I didn’t know how to fix myself. But you did. You made me more confident, more sure of myself, more… God I’m bad at this.” I stop, afraid to meet his eyes before continuing, “You helped me be comfortable being me.”

“Dan…” Phil’s eyes are actually glistening now and he reaches up a hand as if to stoke the computer screen.

“So, thank you, Phil. Thank you for saving me.” That’s all I can say before my throat closes and I am forced to stop my stupid speech.

“I love you so much.” Phil whispers, his voice think with unshed emotion. “I want you here with me.” His voice shakes.

“You’ll be home this weekend.” I try to say happily, though my voice breaks halfway through, betraying me.

“It’s not soon enough. I want you now. I want to hold you and kiss you and never leave you again.”

“Maybe it’s all part of a plan, but I just keep on making the same mistakes, hoping that you’ll understand.”

“You need to stop this, Dan.” He is disappointed in me, I can tell.

“Stop what?” I say indignantly, though I know that I am in the wrong and that it is my turn to apologize.

“Stop being so impulsive! The world doesn’t revolve around you!”

“Okay, really? I mean last time I checked I didn’t need to consult you on how to live my life!” My voice raises an octave and I angrily wipe away the liquid welling up in my eyes.

“You do if it has an impact on my life and all that I’ve worked for!” Phil throws his hands in the air and strides toward the large windows overlooking London.

“All that you’ve worked for?” My voice cracks, I’m sure the neighbors can hear by now, “This is my life too! We’re Dan and Phil! We’re together!”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be!”

My mind goes blank. He’s not serious. He’s angry. We both are. He’s not serious. My heart rate increases as Phil realizes what he said.

“Dan…” His voice is quieter now.

“You don’t mean that, Phil!” I try to catch my breath though sobs are threatening to break. I search his face desperately, trying to find a shred of a joke, for him to laugh and tell me that he loves me, to tell me that everything is still okay.

“Maybe it was too much…” He is talking to the ground now, shifting his feet and looking like the awkward young man that I feel in love with.

“What?” I can barely get the word out, “What’s too much? Is it me? I’m sorry, I know I’m a shit person, I don’t mean it, I never meant it!”

“Dan… please…” He sounds broken, nervous, he sounds like I feel, although I can’t believe what he’s saying.

“No, Phil. I’ll change, okay? Let’s sit down and I’ll make some tea and we can work this out, okay?” I plead with him, almost begging him to stop talking, to stop breaking my heart.

“No, Dan…” His voice trails off and he closes his eyes before he begins speaking again, “It’s not you, okay?” Then what is it? I scream in my head because I can’t remember how to form the words. “We’ve been together for so long… Maybe…”

“N-no, please, please, no…” The tears are flowing freely now, I can just make out his disheveled black hair and his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Dan, I’m sorry.” Stop saying my name like that! “I’m so sorry.” He takes a small step forward, raising one hand, reaching out for me. I’m frozen in place as he approaches timidly, my mind racing to think of solutions, only able to repeat the word no over and over and over.

 I can’t think, can’t remember the source of our argument, can’t feel anything except, “Please…”

He shakes his head and smiles, slowly and sadly. He doesn’t have anything else to say, I can read it in his eyes, his eyes from which the tears streaming down his beautiful face are being produced. His hands unclench and he moves even closer. We are standing face to face now, our eyes level. He stares at me intently, willing me to understand, to let him go. He is the first to lean in, gently pressing his lips against mine.

I can breathe again. A strangled gasp passes my mouth and I wrap my arms around his strong torso, crying harder when he winds his around me. We are both shaking now, pressing desperate kisses into the other, we know that this is the end. This is the end of us. The end of our story.

 

The final notes of the song fade away and I come back to the present. I hurry to wipe away the tears remaining on my face. I know that I should find my girl and try to apologize, but I can’t bring myself to care. I miss him. I’ve missed him ever since I lost him. A waitress walks past me and I place a hand on her sleeve and tug gently.

“Could I get a whiskey on the rocks please?” I say when she asks what I want, I need to forget.

“Make that two?” I turn, startled, when the man who I thought was unconscious speaks up. The waitress nods and continues walking, but I don’t watch her leave. I am unable to tear my gaze away from the man sitting in the darkened corner of the table. His black hair reflects the bright lights from the dance floor, a stunning contrast to his smooth pale skin. The man’s bright blue eyes refuse to leave my face and I unwittingly break into a smile.

“Hello, Phil.”