I was listening to Sahara Hotnights today for the first time in forever. I’d forgotten how much I loved Jennie Bomb. I used to have C'mon Let’s Pretend as well, but I sold it years ago. It’s funny, because now I actually think that’s probably the better album. I regretted the decision to sell almost immediately, and ended up having to pay to hear it again (in the pre-free music streaming internet world). Ah well.
If I ever get around to finishing that list of ‘00s albums, Jennie Bomb will most definitely be on it.
A/N: My beautiful friend @kayteonline beta’d this little piece for me. I have no set posting schedule for future parts, they’ll be written whenever they’re written. Lyrics will be added to parts as they apply. This series will be angsty and smutty, may contain some darker elements in future parts.
As always, feedback and constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.
Twice already, the mistake had been made. He was lonely - he was ready to change, and both times you’d been suckered in; ready to bring him back, to accept him, to heal him.
Both times you’d been fooled. No. Fooled is a cop-out. You fell victim to your own wishful thinking and the charm in his words, damning yourself the whole way home for being so stupid - for letting the facade convince you.
Sure, the outside was your Dean, but inside? Inside he was suffocating black smoke and colorless eyes. He was selfish, and hostile, and careless, and -
FILTHY. RICH. SPOILT. ROTTEN ;fake soundtrack for spoilt, rotten boys with too much authority [the riot club] //here’s my fist, where’s the fight? [listen]
i. the garden mirah | ii. wrecking ball mother mother | iii. alright alright [here’s my fist where’s the fight] sahara hotnights | iv. work song hozier | v. party song keaton henson | vi. the empty threats of little lord sunset rubdown | vii. bloody shirt to kill a king | viii. saints gravenhurst | ix. lover i don’t have to love bright eyes | x. let’s not pretend crooked fingers