#Busy with Finals that are now intertwined with my delusions.

[spacebubblehomebase]

Well, the above animatic is definitely cancelled.

Sorry, guys. Ya boi sillied too hard. This was nothing too serious anyways, BUT the animatic I'll be making for my AU definitely is! YES. You read that right! My #HHStargazersAU will now include an ANIMATIC that I'll be posting one day; when we reach that particular turning point of the story. I've been working on that right now instead of the next update, but I'll get to that soon as well when my break starts! Basically, my situation is like this...

😅 Teacher really said, "Update your AU! People have waited long enough." LMAO. This is what I get for saying "I have to focus on Finals, guys. Not now." SOOO many times and now it's ACTUALLY a part of my Finals too! Haha. My biggest concern is that this may be shown to my classmates by the end of the week if our schedules work out according to my teacher. How am I to explain this AU if someone asked??? This Hazbin Hotel Chaggie & Radioapple centered AU??? To the ENTIRE class!?? Why of all things, did my teacher choose THAT one out of my other simpler song animatic options? Prof, ya weren't actually supposed to do that. TvT That scene was just gonna be in comic form originally. Now I have to try my hand at sound design too. All I wanted was some LOLs and got served Ls. Ah well. Get ready for a feast, everyone. Because those who patiently still holds hope for my story will be eating good, I swear. (Not like I can do anything to escape it now. It's major grades! XD)

-Bubbly💙

Sorry I've been gone awhile guys, but I randomly decided to start a stupidly useless animatic no that one asked for at GODKNOWSWHAT time in the morning while I have my Finals kicking my arse. (And the fact that I'm an animation student means that most of my school-works are also animatic or storyboard based on top of my papers & presentations. WHYYY-) So yeah. Drawing for my #HHStargazersAU has been in the back burner for bit, but NOT abandoned!!! I assure you! For now, I'm fleshing out the lore of it more while I give ya'll a sneak peek of my current project as compensation. Something to look forward to I guess:

P.S. Vox is surprisingly REALLY easy to draw for me as this was my first try and I didn't even sketch! His expression is really fun for me.

-Bubbly💙

[nuhahani]

Thin White Lies

Thin White Lies by 5SOS

+18 JJK x Reader

I don’t feel your love and I don’t ask too many questions

You didn’t ask who it was the day he started smiling at his phone and not you. You didn’t ask, naturally you assumed that if he was unhappy he would tell you. Why would you need to ask your boyfriend of six years if he was interested in someone else instead of you? You shared an apartment together, spent holidays with each other’s families, he even place that boulder on your ring finger himself. You should’ve asked more questions. You should’ve asked why he volunteered to take her home from the party you two were hosting at your own home. You should’ve asked why he was ‘stuck in traffic’ for so long on his way back from dropping her off. You should’ve asked about the missed calls and deleted messages. The staying late at work and the cancelled plans. You should’ve asked but you didn’t, not even when his phone lit up with a notification on the nightstand as you were packing your clothes in the middle of night. His sleeping form too exhausted to notice you had gotten out of bed. He hadn’t cared enough to even notice that your belonging were slowly disappearing from the apartment. Carefully and quietly as if not to wake a sleeping tiger, you left in the dead of night.

-Geto, Sukuna

Calling my name, I don’t wanna say but I’m wide awake

You heard your name called from across the crowded hall, a door slamming from behind you. You heard him, clear as hot summer day you heard him calling your name. You pretended not to hear. The sight you had walked in on was all you needed to finally wake up from the deep delusion of being his one and only. Everyone and anyone the two of you could possibly know were at this party, after all it was hosted by your now ex-best friend. You felt stupid but not embarrassed, at least you dodged a bullet with both of them. A full two years of dating and 10 years of friendship that always seemed to be too good to be true, like a dream you refused to wake up from. You heard people stopping him to catch up and talk as he watched your figure flee out the front door, calling your name.

-Gojo, Yuji, Nanami

Just one more taste of you my love

The love was no longer there, you both knew it. It wasn’t a matter of who hurt who or who committed wrong against the other. You both had simply fallen out of love with each other. As the seasons changed so did your feelings, this was a conversation you had both acknowledged you needed to have. So there the two of you sat at your kitchen table in tears. The sun was setting outside and the temperatures were dropping with your confidence. You thought you were prepared for this conversation but suddenly the words were suffocating you. You reached for each other’s hands, intertwining your fingers. You’re not sure how it happened; what words and movements lead to it but you had your back pressed against the wall as you stuck to each like glue. Bodies bringing each other back to life, skin burning under each delicate, desperate touch. The two of you fell into bed the same way you had done so many times before. The lips on your neck left marks and bites only to leave you alone in a cold empty bed the next morning.

-Megumi, Nobara

She said she love me, she don’t show it

You had gotten tired. Cancelled and forgotten plans, missed birthdays and weaponized incompetence. She had done a real number on you. Every text, phone call and FaceTime ending with those poisonous three words. “I love you”, she says everyday but she never shows it. It almost like she’s talking to a parent when she says it to you. A forced display of affection as if it’s mandated to say instead of something she wants you to know. You’re not sure why the two of you started dating anyways, she was always busy with her friends or work. If you asked to make plans then she already had something to due as if you weren’t busy as well. It wasn’t always like that though, at one point in time you thought she genuinely may have meant it when she said she loved you between kisses and late night drives. But as your mother used to say, love can fade if not maintained. However your efforts went wasted and directly rejected. You didn’t even bother to call and tell her you were done, you simply stopped replying. You stopped answering. You moved on.

-Shoko, Maki

A/N: Toji’s not here because he can do no wrong that’s why he went to heaven

[shinichirosgirl]

Final - Casino Version

what are 10 years of your life span if you can exchange them to bring back your loved one? It doesn't matter if you have to play a game for god's entertainment.

series masterlist - Chapter 4 - Final

Genre: mature, angst content warnings: death, guns shoots, violence Shinichiro x reader

The wind was icy, almost biting. The air was heavy. It was a night like any other. People on their way to their nightshift, people on their way back home, teens, drunkards and party loving; all mindlessly passing by a certain, dark side alley like many people before them did and like many people after them will do.

It seemed like nothing special and at the same time something felt different. No words were spoken about it and yet it was clear. Might it be imagination, delusion or madness but for some reason no one dared to come too close.

Once unattached and long forgotten this one side alley turned into the center of everyone’s attention. Once dark and now brightly illuminated by blue light. Once empty and forsaken now crowded and busy. The scene of a crime.

“And?”, a tall man asked after ducking out from under the barrier tape. “A couple.”, his blonde-haired colleague asked, “Both shot dead.” It was not an easy sight for the experienced detective even after many years in this career. Without the blood some could get the impression they are peacefully sleeping on the ground, almost hugging each other with hands intertwined. A tragedy.

For many hours they stayed at the crime scene focused on their investigations. Not until the first rays of sunlight displaced the shadows of night the two detectives decided to get some hours of sleep before they would engage themselves into their work again. The criminal needs to be found.

“Is this yours?”, the blonde-haired asked and picked up a paper from the ground on his way to the barrier tape, “Writing down your savings?” His colleague replied with a hiss and tore the note from his hand.

“I wish..”, he replied, “my debt.”

“Casino again?”

“Damn… I thought I would win this time but once again I spent everything and gained nothing”

[gipzisays209]

Alright. Pagan system here, also a white American body raised around Christians.

First off, Spirituality DOES NOT equal religion. Yes, the two are extremely similar, and the two are very much tied into each other. But you can be spiritual and not be religious.

Point A, witchcraft. Tarot cards are considered witchcraft. Crystals and the likes are considered witchcraft if used alongside other witchcraft practices. Divination, spell work, communing with spirits, the whole nine yards are considered witchcraft.

Witchcraft is not religion.

Witchcraft is inherently tied to spirituality, but the practice in and of itself is not religious. Yes, it has major ties to Wicca and Paganism (among many other religions), but just practicing Tarot and collecting crystals for the healing aspects does not make you religious. Believing in a religion and worshipping a higher power makes you religious, not practicing spell work and Divination. I have friends who are Atheist and also are Witches. The two are not mutually exclusive.

Second, we should not be looking down on other people's religious or spiritual beliefs. Using Wicca and Witchcraft in quotation marks as you did, OP, is no better than a devout Christian, which you claim to hate, looking down on another religion and calling it "delusional" (an ableist insult, BTW, especially in the context of individual experiences and beliefs). You have no right to call what someone else believes (or doesn't believe) an actual delusion. Atheism was believed to be delusion for literal hundreds of years.

Third (and probably final) point, my personal experiences with everything you've brought up. As mentioned previously, I am also a bodily white American. I've been practicing Witchcraft for a little over a year now. I've been Pagan for several months. My system formed because one of my headmates, one from one of my past lives, reached out to me through my practice of Witchcraft and eventually became a soulbond. Spirituality, Alterhumanity and Plurality are indeed all three linked for me, and I can't be the only one.

Not all plurality is intertwined with spirituality. That's a stupid statement and a broad overgeneralization to say such. But it's undeniable that different systems formed for different reasons, whether Traumagenic or Endogenic, and honestly... that's their business how they formed, at the end of the day.

I might say something that might be potentially explosively controversial but

we really don't like the spirituality part of plurality. we don't like it how especially some endos have made it that spirituality is entwined with plurality.

Plurality is a psychological phenomenon. Endogenic and Traumagenic are two sides of the coin. But as an atheist, it kind of hurts to see people weave this association we used to have with it that's been used against us to abuse us. Religion is a tool of control. It keeps people in the dark. It explains things that are perfectly explainable things otherwise, making them fantastical.

Now this isnt to say that culture cannot influence it. On the contrary, it often DOES influence plurality and systems at large. And I'm certainly am not going to deny these people their plural existence just because they're religious or spiritual. But as it is, we cannot believe that a "super natural explanation" is one that's true. If you just want to be plural, fine. Have it. But don't expect us to believe that.

There is still so much research needed for plurality as a whole. And we do wish to further understand TOSD and other scientific methods for plurality.

We feel particularly sick to our stomach about linking spirituality with plurality. But that's in the perspective of a white american body raised around Christians, having a "rebellious age" in the host's teenager years of ""wicca"" and ""witchcraft"" and other delusional (ACTUALLY DELUSIONAL) beliefs that teenagers are NOT supposed to be groomed into. We've seen takes from other people's perspectives and noticed that the greyness between spiritual beliefs and science is a way heavier gradient than in the west. So there just may be a catch here we're not getting.

- 🎶, 🔥 & 🐑

[rekrappeter]

we were young and carefree

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you and fred share a perfect first date

warnings: some cursing, mention of becoming addicted to something, kissing

a/n: @theweasleysredhair​ requested flirty fred, and while I was writing this, I realised I’m not very good at writing flirting banter - but please do enjoy some fluffy fred. i haven’t wrote in a hot minute so hopefully this is up to standard. enjoy <3

"How are you, pretty girl?" His loud greeting interrupted your thoughts, it also earned a number disapproval looks sent in your direction from students sitting around the library. The majority of students in Hogwarts had their heads in books studying for the upcoming exams, except for the red-headed Weasley that popped up beside you. 

You quickly scanned the bookshelves and surrounding areas to see if you could spot the other twin, but he was nowhere in sight. “Hi, Fred,” you sighed, placing your quill down and twisting your body to look at him. 

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, but already settled into the vacant seat before you even processed his question. A confident smirk was spread across Fred’s face, his hair brushed back and a twinkle in his eye. “I had a great idea last night.”

“Oh, really?” An amused smile plastered itself on your face. No matter how busy or stress you were with study, you could never truly be annoyed at Fred or George; the more you thought about it, the quicker you realized that you don’t recall anyone ever having a bad word to say about either twin - other than their own siblings. 

“Oh, it was brilliant. It came to me late last night,” Fred leaned back in the chair, kicking his legs out underneath the table and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He had his grey jumper on with his white shirt buttoned up beneath it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the sight alone made you want to drool. “It involved you, me, and the three broomsticks... this weekend.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, brushing your hair over your shoulder - the parchment and quill in front of you long forgotten about. “You’re delusion, Fred.”

“Delusion cause I want a girl like you to go out with me?” He asked, sitting up straighter and leaning on the table, his arm brushing yours slightly. 

“Delusion ‘cause you’d think I’d go on a date the weekend before exams,” you giggled. 

“I’d help you study,” he offered, his hand reaching out and intertwined his fingers with yours. You had to do everything in your power to bite back a grin, his fingertips grazing against your skin leaving fireworks in their trail. 

“I don’t think we’d get much work done,” you popped back, sucking your bottom lip in.

“y/n y/l/n,” Fred gasped, an amused look on his face, “you naughty naughty girl.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you chuckled, feeling yourself getting flustered underneath his gaze. 

“How about after exams?” The confident aura that you were so used to seeing around Fred vanished, his eyes softening and a light smile on his face. He truly did want to go on a date with you, and he tried to use the confidence to hide the fear of rejection that he was so accustomed to when it came to you. You were far too good for him - top of all your classes, genuinely funny, kind to everyone, and unbelievably gorgeous. You were the whole package, and he didn’t want his insecurities to get in the way of it.

You pretended to ponder on the thought, seeing him take a nervous deep breath in before you smiled widely and let him out of his misery. “It would be my honor.” 

It was two weeks after you promised Fred that you’d go on a date with him once the exams were over and done with. It was two weeks that consisted of a grin being plastered on your face permanently, your cheeks flushing whenever your eyes connected with his and he would send a wink your way. You kept finding yourself seeking him out, scanning the common room or the Great Hall quickly and he was always staring back at you, waiting for you to find him. The butterflies never ceased, only growing more and more. Your thoughts were preoccupied with Fred’s face, your dreams filled with scenarios where he played the main character. 

You walked out of the classroom, a sigh of relief passing your lips as the weight of the world was lifted from your shoulders knowing that you just completed the final exam. You had your books tucked under your arm, the black robe falling off one shoulder. When your eyes lifted from the stone floor, a smile spread across your lips at the sight of Fred leaning against the wall, obviously waiting for you. He had his arms crossed in front of him, his hair brushed back and a lazy smirk on his face. 

“Weasley,” you greeted him, walking past him and hearing him fall into step just behind you. 

“y/l/n,” he replied, looking down at you. 

“What can I help you with?” The smile never faltered from your lips, knowing exactly what he was waiting for but you were in a playful mood, you wanted to see him sweat a little bit.

Fred reached for the books resting under your arm, holding them for you. “What time will I meet you tonight?” 

“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” Fred confirmed. You turned to look at him, your hair brushing over your shoulder. “You’ve made me wait for two weeks, I can’t wait any longer,” he smirked, a teasing tone to his voice. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, stepping out onto the courtyard and leaning against a cobbled statue, “I’m sure a day won’t kill you.”

“It might,” his reply brought a chain of giggles falling from your lips, you tilted your head back. Your heart soared seeing him follow your movements, his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth. His eyes drifted to your lips then back to your eyes and you wiggled your eyebrows at him, making a light blush dance across his cheeks. 

“What will we be doing tonight?” you asked, “If I agree..” you added. 

“Just agree and you’ll see.” 

“Oh, Fred,” you laughed, shaking your head. You pushed yourself off the statue, the gap closing between you, and your breath hitched in your throat as his head tilted ever so slightly. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked softly. You chewed on the inside of your cheeks, rolling your eyes to the sky before nodding, a feeling of warmth wrapping around you at him grinning like a fool. “You won’t regret this, pretty girl.” 

Watching him walk away, a skip in his step, you already knew that you wouldn’t regret it. The truth was you were eagerly anticipating the date, for years now. You’ve always been smitten with Fred Weasley, just like every other girl that had good taste. But you enjoyed the back and forth joking and flirting between you - a date would make things real but you were ready for that now. You were finally ready to see what Fred had to offer, and you were willing to give him everything that you had.

“It’s freezing out here,” you gasped, stepping out from a doorway that you didn’t even know existed. Fred looked over his shoulder, his features barely noticeable in the darkness. He reached down to grab your hand, and you welcomed the warmth it brought as you let him lead the way. He was silent for the most part, muttering warnings of steps ahead of you but he was being quite secretive. “Where are we going?” you asked, shocked at yourself for being more worried about getting a cold than getting caught sneaking out of the castle. Fred brought out the more adventurous side to you, as it seemed. 

“Almost there,” Fred replied, his fingers tightening around yours and his pace quickened as he slipped down a slope but he managed to steady himself. He ignored your giggle, never more appreciative of the night sky.

Fred led you to an open area hidden behind fields of trees, away from the castle and peering eyes. You stopped in your tracks, his fingers detangling from yours and he took his wand from his back pocket. You couldn’t hear what he muttered, only winking at you over his shoulder. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, trying to create some sort of warmth, your lips shivering already. 

“A heads up to bring a coat would have been nice,” you said. 

“Why do you need a coat when we have body heat?” You rolled your eyes at his words, stepping to his side. 

“A picnic?” you asked, your eyes trailing over the white and red tartan blanket over the damp grass. A wicker basket was in the corner, pillows and blankets for yourself and Fred were on top of the blanket, with candles igniting the space just enough to make out each other’s features. “Couldn’t we have done this during the day?” 

Fred let out a small laugh, taking your hand in his and walking you to the blanket. When you got comfortable, he draped a heavy blanket over your lap and you muttered a thank you. “Where’s the excitement in doing this during the day? It’s just the two of us here.” 

“It is,” you nodded, “It’s very pretty, thank you.” 

“Yes, you are very pretty,” Fred said, an amused smile on his lips. “I have tea or pumpkin juice, which would you prefer, darling?” 

“Tea, please,” you let Fred get the snacks together, watching him do everything with grace. He didn’t seem nervous, his fingers were steady and his face was void of any expression until he looked up at you. He noticed you watching him, and a dopey smile draped onto his face, his eyes twinkling underneath the moonlight. 

“What?” he asked, handing you the flask. 

“You’re very handsome.”

Fred looked stunned as the words left your mouth. He’d spent so much time trying to win you over, complimenting you whenever he got the chance that he never realised that maybe he didn’t have to try as hard. Maybe you already liked him just as much as he liked you. You couldn’t tell how much time passed as you laughed and ate with him, your stomach muscles aching and tears streaming down your cheeks from laughing so much. As Fred started to clean up with a flick of his wand, you realised you didn’t want the date to end. You wanted to spend more time with him. You felt alive with him, you felt carefree and young with him. 

You stood up from the blanket, watching Fred roll it up and stuff it in the picnic basket, “Ready to go?” he asked and you shook your head immediately, an exaggerated pout on your face. “We can do it again, don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“Dance with me,” you practically demanded. 

Fred raised a brow, looking around him, “There’s no music.” 

“Use that great imagination of yours,” you laughed, reaching out for him. Fred let out a sigh, but closed the gap without a word. He wrapped his arms around your waist, linking his fingers together and resting them on your lower back. You linked your own fingers behind at the nape of his neck, and you smiled up at him. Despite there being no music, you swayed around in circles and relished in each other’s company. The problem with the music became non-existent when you lost yourself in each other’s eyes. “Why me?” 

The question didn’t even phase Fred, he hardly looked stunned when you spoke. His thumb was rubbing your lower back in circles. He dipped his head slightly, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You’re funny,” he chuckled, bringing his lips to your earlobe making you giggle, “You’re ambitious,” his lips moved to your cheek, “So bloody pretty,” his lips moved to your jaw, lighting a fire on your skin, “You’re genuine, you’re kind,” he pulled back slightly, his eyes hooded and you felt dizzy underneath his gaze. “And I bet you’re a great kisser,” he smirked. 

“Why don’t you find out?” you taunted, your brow flickering in a challenge. Fred detangled his fingers and brought his hands to cup your jaw, his fingers sweeping through your hair as he brought your face closer to his. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours, your chest lifting as you took a deep breath. The kiss was gentle at first, until you stepped into him and lifted yourself on the tip of your toes. You opened your mouth to deepen the kiss and he accepted the offer just as fast. The innocent kiss took a turn, your tongue wanting to explore every inch of what he had to offer. His hands trailing down your body, and your fingers brushing through his hair. The hunger and passion that was dormant in you for so long erupted, and the sound of lips smacking together could be heard across the silence. 

Fred was the first to pull back, his heart rising and falling, “fuck,” he groaned, the single word making butterflies explode in your stomach. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still shut.

“Well?” you asked.

“A great kisser as well,” he chuckled, “Too good, I might become addicted.” 

“I really like you, Fred,” you announced, letting your feet rest on the grass and you looked up at him, smiling. 

“If you don’t realise how much I like you, then maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were,” Fred grinned. 

You narrowed your eyes, a cunning smile on your face, “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

i hope you enjoyed reading this

as always, no one has my consent to copy and paste my writing to other social media sources. please respect this

[yslkook]

complicated

pairing: seokjin x reader summary: in which you and seokjin are figuring your “relationship” out. word count: 2415 warnings: cursing, alcohol, brief smut (like very brief) a/n: a part two to ships in the night. ty to @taestybae​ for listening to me rant about this!!

You and Seokjin somehow find your rhythm, even after months of being out of sync with each other. It makes him nervous, how easily he falls back into his friendship with you. It scares him how now that he’s allowed to, he sees you in a different light.

Like you had said. It was a cliche, that he was coming to terms with his seemingly hidden feelings for you after a three year long engagement with another woman. Another woman that he hardly thinks of these days. Because all he can think about is how soft you feel curled up next to him, and how your hands feel intertwined with his. All he can think about is how your face lights up when you see him, as if he’s the only one in the room.

It’s been almost eight months since Jin had ended his engagement with Taeyeon. He doesn’t know what the appropriate time is to wait into jumping into another relationship after a failed engagement. But does it bother you? 

You don’t like complicated. So you let him hold your hand. You let him kiss you. You let him sleep in your bed, reminding you of when you were both in college. You let him hold you in a way that is definitely more than friendly.

Yoongi tells you that you should ask him what he’s thinking. Ask him where you stand with him. But the idea of complicating whatever you have with Jin doesn’t sound very appealing. Yoongi tells you that you’ll break your own heart again if you don’t figure your shit out with Jin. Jimin gives you flirty eyes and his warm smile, finally happy that his two friends who were like his older siblings finally are venturing out of the bounds of friendship. And Jungkook worries that you’ll get hurt.

They’re all probably right. And you deserve better than a boy, regardless if he’s your best friend or not, have you out of sheer convenience. But you know Jin. You know his heart, and you know when he’s genuine. But still, you make a promise to yourself. That you’ll talk to him at some point.

Jin had asked you to accompany him to his parents’ house for dinner about a week later. You think nothing of it- you’re closer to his family than your own family. You had contemplated whether you should dress more casually or dress up a little. You decide on dressing up a little bit, wearing a blouse tucked into your pants and a brown plaid jacket. The way Jin’s eyes widen as you swipe your lip gloss on makes it worth it, you think.

“You look better than I do,” Jin whines, pulling you into his side and dropping a kiss to your lips quickly. You swipe at his bottom lip to take the remnants of your gloss off of him. It should be strange, how easy kissing him was. 

“God forbid,” You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“We’ll be the only tens in the house. Well, I’m an eleven, but you’ll do,” Jin says and you scoff fondly.

“Alright, keep dreamin’, Jin. Keep living in your delusions. I won’t burst your bubble.”

“Kim Seokjin!” You hiss at him, swatting your hand over his shoulder, “You did not tell me that your brother and his pregnant wife were coming. And your cousins. And your aunts and uncles! You ambushed me!”

“What’s the big deal?” Jin hisses back, rubbing his shoulder, “They all love you anyway! You act like this is the first time-”

“The first time! It is the first time, you idiot,” You pull him to you by the lapels of his jacket, cursing his stupidly handsome face, “It’s the first time I’ve been around your entire family while we’re doing whatever it is that we’re doing!

“No wonder your mother is looking at me like she has a secret,” You rant, “Oh my god, and your brother- he looked so fuckin’ happy to see us. Oh my god-”

“Hey,” Jin says sharply, “Will you relax?”

“Seokjin! No, I will not relax! Can’t believe I had to be ambushed just to get an answer out of you for what it is we’re doing here-”

Jin sighs and pulls you into his arms, muffling your surprised gasp. You melt into his hug quickly, and most of your irritation has washed away. He’s always been an instant source of calm for you, and this time is no different.

“Is that what this is about?” Jin murmurs and before you can snark at him, he clasps his hand over your mouth, “You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how it’s always been. And that’s it. Doesn’t have to be so complicated, baby.”

“Complicated…” You echo, feeling your muscles relax, “Unconditionally?”

“Yeah. Unconditionally.”

At the end of the night, when Jin’s father insists on a family picture with everyone in it, you don’t even feel out of place pressed up against Jin. You squeeze his hand in yours tightly and smile.

It’s not so complicated.

You almost drop your coffee when you see none other than Taeyeon, Jin’s ex-fiancee, staring at you as if you have ten heads.

“Uh,” You say eloquently, squeezing your cup of coffee. You had gone to your favorite coffee shop after work to pick up pastries for you and Jin before seeing him later that evening.

Taeyeon finally gives you a weak wiggle of her fingers. “Hey. Long time no see,” She says. She looks good, you think. She looks happy. Happier than when she was with Jin.

“You look good,” You comment, voicing your thoughts out loud, “How have you been, Taeyeon?”

Your heart is slamming in your chest, for some unknown reason. You can’t help but feel guilty all of a sudden. Even if you had done nothing when her and Jin had been together.

“Good. How have you been?” Taeyeon says politely.

“Good,” You echo. What does she want with you? She seems to hesitate for a minute before sighing deeply.

“Will you sit with me for a minute?” Taeyeon says quietly. Your lips part in surprise, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” You murmur and lead her to one of the tables by the windows, “So how are you really? I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. Considering…” You trail off, your eyes meeting hers.

“Yeah,” Taeyeon nods, “I didn’t. Want to hear from you, that is.”

“Fair,” You reply, “Not sure why you wanna hear from me now, then. Want a croissant?” You take a freshly baked croissant from the box and hand it to her. Her eyes glaze over your left hand, namely your ring finger. Before she can protest, you shove it in her hands and she murmurs a soft ‘thanks’.

“You bringing those for Seokjin?” Taeyeon says, not an ounce of bitterness in her voice. She was always too good. Better than you could ever be.

“Yeah,” You say simply. Part of you wants to say ‘is it any of your business?’ but you refrain. You’re certain this is hard for her. But she’s the one who wanted to talk.

“I was thinking about you the other day,” She says softly. Taeyeon is just full of surprises today, isn’t she. “I just…”

“Taeyeon… You don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do this. You can hate me-”

“Hate you? I never hated you,” Taeyeon says, taking a sip of her coffee, “Okay, maybe I did for a little. But that was only because you were the easiest person to blame at the time. Seokjin and I would have never been happy together.”

You stay quiet, chewing nervously on your bottom lip.

“I moved on. There’s no reason for him not to,” Taeyeon continues, her voice soft and melodious as it carries through. You raise your head in surprise, trying to mask it quickly. But she picks up on it and smiles.

“That’s great, Taeyeon. I’m happy for you,” You say, and you mean it. Her eyes brighten at your words and she gives you one of her show-stopping smiles. The smile that Seokjin fell in love with all those years ago.

“He hasn’t put a ring on you yet?” She says, half jokingly and you snort.

“How do you know I haven’t put a ring on him yet?” You wink at her. You remember why you had defended her to your friends when they said that her and Jin didn’t fit- she was genuinely so nice. But that didn’t take away from the fact that they didn’t fit. You missed her friendship, and that revelation has you surprised.

“He seems to be taking his sweet time. Considering that you were one of the reasons we ended things,” Taeyeon says airily. You wince at her oblivious bluntness.

“Taking his time with what?”

“Making you his. The way you should’ve been from the beginning.”

Breath seems to be stolen from your throat at her words and you choke on your coffee. “Taeyeon…”

“I’m only saying. He broke an engagement for you. What are you both scared of?”

“It’s…” You exhale, somehow trying to reconcile that you’re speaking about your relationship with Jin with his ex-fiancee, “Complicated. It’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

Jin’s head is in between your legs, your back braced over the couch. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as a lewd moan escapes you. Despite his lips dotting your inner thighs in kisses, his hands flat over your hips… Your mind is preoccupied. 

Taeyeon’s words replay in your mind on loop. Jin can tell you’re distracted and he pulls away with a sigh and with rosy lips.

“Babe,” He sighs, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist to nudge him by the heels of your feet. Jin lays on top of you, shoving a hand up your shirt to play with your tits lazily.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I saw Taeyeon today. Your ex-fiancee, remember her?” You say bluntly and Jin freezes for a second, his fingers clamped around your nipple.

“Of course I remember my ex-fiancee,” Jin hisses, squeezing your waist, “What could my girl possibly be talking to my ex-fiancee about?”

“What else do we have in common?” You roll your eyes, “You. And croissants. She looks good. She’s happy, told me about the girl she’s seeing.”

“And you? Are you happy?”

“She said something funny,” You say, ignoring his question, “Said you broke your engagement for me and that it was stupid that we weren’t together.”

“Not together? You think we’re not together?” Jin asks incredulously, “This is fuckin’ weird, baby. Because Taeyeon said we’re not together, you think we’re not together?”

“I don’t think anything, baby,” You say stubbornly, “It’s...complicated.”

“What’s complicated? I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s all there is to it, remember?” Jin murmurs, cradling your face. You pull him down for a hungry kiss. You don’t want to talk about it anymore. You only want him.

Hoseok’s New Year’s Eve party, or the party of the year as he dubbed it, was in full swing. Bottles of alcohol were opened on the designated table, red, black and gold streamers and decorations all over his apartment, with everyone dressed in either red, black or gold to match the theme. As per his request.

You were wearing a tight, red midi dress. Jin nearly convinced you to stay home, with his wandering hands and lingering touches. But you wanted to end the year with a bang, and you’d be damned if he held you up. He was hot, and you thought it was cute when his ears reddened at your soft sigh when you saw him.

You’re about four drinks deep, in the middle of drinking games with equally, if not more, tipsy friends and you’ve never been happier. You cheer loudly when your team wins, giving Jungkook and Yoongi’s girlfriend kisses on the cheek at your victory.

Seokjin is on a mission to get you alone. When he finally gets his chance, inching his way in between you and Taehyung, you grin widely at him. With your arms flat on his chest.

“Hey,” You purr, “Missed you.”

“Wanna tell you something,” Jin says, a little desperately and takes you outside, on Hoseok’s balcony.

“Outside? It’s cold,” You complain, rubbing your bare arms. Jin immediately draws you into his chest, replacing your hands with his. As nice as it is, you’re still cold.

“I need to talk to you,” Jin pleads, taking your chin in his hands.

“Jin,” You ask worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I love you,” Jin exhales, “I love you so much.”

“I know that,” You smile, heart still skipping a beat at his words. 

“No, you don’t understand,” Jin says frantically, “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you. Even when I didn’t know it, I was. You are my best friend, my soulmate, and I am in love with you.”

“O-oh. Like that,” You murmur. His words are new, but for some reason, you don’t feel any different. Maybe it’s because you’ve known for the last few months. You’ve known how he felt about you. But still. His words are everything. 

“Yeah. Like that.”

“I’ve been so in love with you for… God, I don’t even know how long,” You sigh dreamily, melting into his kisses over your cheek, your forehead, your chin, “Say it again, Jinnie.”

“I’m in love with you,” A kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I love you-” A kiss to your eyebrow, “I fuckin’ love you,” A kiss to your lips.

“Want to end the year with you as my girlfriend,” Jin murmurs into your neck, “And start the next year with you as my girlfriend. Will you do that for me? Will you do that with me?”

“Yeah,” You nod, almost shy, “Fuck, yeah. I’ll do that with you.”

“I wanna do everything with you,” Jin sighs, “Every fuckin’ thing, babe. Do it all with me. I love you. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Your heart is singing, you feel like you’re floating and when Jin kisses you at midnight in front of all of your friends… Even dipping you dramatically. The cheers of your friends are muted with the press of Jin’s warm lips on yours with the promise of a future together.

It’s not so complicated.

[storiesforallfandoms]

private ceremony ~ thomas shelby; peaky blinders

word count: 1155

request?: no

description: after some trouble with his men, tommy and his bride to be decide to have a quiet, more intimate ceremony before the chaotic one

pairing: thomas shelby x female!reader

warnings: swearing

i’ve been binge watching peaky blinders the past week and i just wanna write about thomas shelby so much. cillian murphy is the most beautiful man, don’t @ me

Tommy sighed heavily and leaned against the windowsill. He put a cigarette to his lips and struck a match to light it. He took a long drag and held the smoke in his mouth before exhaling.

Today was supposed to be the best day of his life. He was getting married to the woman of his dreams, he was always told a man’s wedding day was the best day of his life. And yet it was currently like every other day, chaotic as ever, except maybe ten times worse because he knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this. His family couldn’t stay civil just for one goddamn day just for him. They always had to be a mess.

Tommy ran a hand over his face in frustration. He was starting to dread his own wedding day, and the decision to get married at all. How could he possibly ask her to become a part of this life?

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Tommy looked up to see his beautiful bride to be, already dressed in her stunning white dress. He couldn’t help but smile, all his frustrations washing away just by seeing her.

“I’m not supposed to see you in that before the wedding,” he told her. “They say it’s bad luck.”

“Seems your luck is already bad today,” she told him, leaning against the windowsill next to him. She held her hand out for a drag from the cigarette. He passed it to her and she took a long puff. “Your family driving your insane?”

“As they always do,” he responded. “Couldn’t get their shit together for my wedding day.”

“Did you expect anything less?” she teased him. “You’re lucky my family are scared of yours, or else it would be twice as chaotic.”

"Arthur’s got some delusion in his head that because your father hasn’t spoken to any of them yet it means he thinks he’s better than our family,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “Dumb fuck takes things way too personally.”

“My father tried to speak to him before the wedding, Arthur nearly swung at him for whatever deluded reason. Dad nearly left right then and there, almost refused to give you his blessing.”

Tommy shook his head and rolled his eyes. He didn’t know what had gotten into Arthur lately, but he was having a hard time putting up with it.

He blew out another puff and put one hand on yours, intertwining your fingers. “I’m so sorry if my family ruin our wedding day.”

(Y/N) shook her head. She hated to admit that she had been questioning the wedding day as well. Of course she loved Tommy with her entire heart, and she had no doubts in her mind that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but their wedding day was currently far from perfect, and it was really pissing (Y/N) off.

Suddenly, a smile spread across her face. “What if they don’t ruin our day?”

Tommy looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

She stood and took Tommy’s hand. He followed her from his room in his house out to the chapel where they were supposed to be wed. The two snuck into the chapel without anyone noticing.

(Y/N) led Tommy to the office of Jeremiah, the preacher that was to marry the two of them. He was reading over what he was to recite for the wedding when (Y/N) knocked. He turned and greeted the two with a smile.

“Ah, the soon to be weds,” he said. “Isn’t it bad luck for you two to be together before you’re wed?”

“We’re hoping to be wed a bit earlier than expected,” (Y/N) responded. “If you wouldn’t mind following me.”

Jeremiah gave Tommy and confused look as (Y/N) walked away. Tommy shrugged and responded, “She’s not telling me, either.”

“Come on!” (Y/N) called.

Tommy and Jeremiah followed her out the back door into the church’s garden. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. The flowers of the garden were freshly bloomed and, unlike the inside of the church, it was calm and peaceful.

(Y/N) stood in the middle of the garden and turned to Tommy, a smile on her face. “Let’s get married now. Our own private ceremony, just the two of us, and Jimmy.”

“Even with everyone already in the church?” Tommy asked.

(Y/N) nodded excitedly. “We can still have our ceremony for our families, but for our actual nuptials and our vows, let’s just have this one private moment before we’re swarmed by family.”

She turned to Jeremiah, “If that’s alright with you, Jimmy.”

He chuckled. “Of course, it’s perfectly fine with me. And I promise I won’t tell a soul.”

(Y/N) turned back to Tommy and extended a hand. “What do you say, love?”

He couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “I love you.”

She giggled and Tommy took her hand in his. Jeremiah started a shortened version of the wedding prayer, one that cut out the bible verses he was to read and the asking if anyone were to object, and went straight to the vows.

“Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take (Y/F/N) to be your lawful wedded wife, for better or for worst, for rich or for poor, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

Tommy looked down at his beautiful fiancée, unable to contain the smile on his face. “I do.”

“And do you, (Y/F/N), take Thomas Michael Shelby - ”

“You’re fucking right I do,” (Y/N) cut Jeremiah off. Both men chuckled at her enthusiasm as her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Sorry, Jimmy.”

“Well, this isn’t a traditional wedding at all, so cursing is allowed,” Jeremiah decided. “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may now kiss the bride.”

Neither needed to be told twice. The moment the words were out of Jeremiah’s mouth, Tommy had his arms wrapped around the small of (Y/N)’s back and he was kissing her deeply and passionately. All the world around them disappeared and it was just the two of them. No fighting families, no overbearing brothers, no Peaky Blinders business to worry about. Just the two of them, husband and wife, finally wed.

They could've stood there all day, and just be happy with one another. Unfortunately, Jeremiah had to break the two of them up.

“Congratulations, you two,” he said. “I hate to break up this beautiful scene, but the two of you will have to go in soon. The wedding is supposed to start in a mere few minutes.”

They looked at one another. For the first time all day, neither of them were dreading the wedding. (Y/N) took Tommy’s hand on hers and kissed him once more before the newly weds entered the church for their big, more chaotic ceremony.

[utterlyinevitable]

17 for Raleigh x MC 👀

17. things you said that i wish you hadn’t

From the things you said prompt list. Send me a pairing and number and I’ll write a mini fic!

---

Master of None

“Just sell your song,” Raleigh insisted, not for the first time that day. 

He and Cadence were finally back at her apartment. Raleigh had spent an hour of their afternoon corralling after her rage-fueled tantrum. She had stormed out of the studio once they received news that the label would not be footing the bill for more than 12 masters. Cadence and her team had currently recorded 14 tracks with three more slated this week. The plug being pulled meant that the other two masters will belong to the producer unless Cadence comes up with the money to buy the rights back. 

“It’s my life!��My entire story,” she yelled back. “These songs are who I am!” 

She couldn’t part with her work. Her entire heart was tied up in those songs. Where would she get the money to pay for them?    

“And you’ll write another one,” he said flatly from the kitchen where he was making a snack. 

Raleigh had suggested on selling one of the songs to another artist. In true Cadence Dorian fashion she was vehemently against the idea, even if it would give her the cash flow to buy a few of her tracks back. He even offered to loan her the money; of course she scoffed at that. Frankly, Raleigh was tired of hearing her complain and rejecting simple solutions. It wasn’t a hard decision for him.

“You’ll still be on the copyright, who cares if it’s someone else that records it? Sell the song and you’ll have the opportunity to write others.” 

“You don’t get it, Raleigh,” she shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t write your music.” 

He looked up from his sandwich and at her, dumbfounded; “I write my songs.” 

“With topliners, composers and ten other people in the room,” she scoffed.  

“Since when is collaboration fraud?” 

“I write 100% of my music. You wouldn’t understand.”  

For Cadence Dorian having complete ownership of and controlling creative liberties of her IP were of upmost importance. She just couldn’t fathom not having her work publicly tied to her name. Yes, Cadence Dorian’s a snob when it comes to craft. 

“You’re living in a delusion,” Raleigh shook his head more to himself than anything as he took another large bite.

He knew Cadence was new to the business and had a fantastical view of how things worked. He knew she thought that getting signed was a saving grace, a lifeline that let her pursue any and all of her creative endeavors. He realized she, never in her wildest dreams, would have imagined the nightmare that comes with the coveted deal. She was naïve to the bone Ellis dangled over her head; of the suits and 360-contracts and how every single thing she does for the next decade will be in service to the label and maximizing their profits. 

Unfortunately, the glass ceiling shattered today.

Maybe Raleigh Carrera wasn’t the most prolific songwriter, but he sure as hell was a fantastic musician and entertainer. His team is composed of amazing composers and lyricists who preferred to not be in the spotlight. They were the A Team. The industry was full of this type of partnership. Raleigh wished she understood that even the most indie of singer-songwriter’s collaborate. Collabing doesn’t diminish the creative integrity, it enhances it.

His small words fueled the fires already tormenting her hazel eyes; 

“If you spent more time worrying about your career than your ridiculous image, maybe you could empathize an inkling. But no,” she spat. 

“You don’t mean that.”

Her arms flailed wildly as she stomped around the living room; “’I’m Raleigh Carrera and I’d rather destroy things and party than write one goddamn good song. I care more about my ‘bad boy’ image than being respected in the community’,” she mocked in her best, deep voiced Raleigh impression. Hands firmly on her hips she added her most damning assessment of his character, “There’s only so much songs about booze and rebelling can do for you. Such hollow and shitty subjects. Write something real, Raleigh.”  

Oh fuck no. Raleigh could handle a slew of shit thrown his way. What he drew the line was his girlfriend calling him a fraud. 

“Say that again when you go double diamond and sell out a worldwide arena tour,” he volleyed right back just as spiteful. The forest fire in his eyes were dangerously close to overtaking hers. “Which you won’t ever get the chance to do if you don’t sell this song. Get your head out of your ass, Cadence.”

She expelled a high pitched huff in frustration.

Neither sad a word. 

Cadence paced over to the expansive windows overlooking the hustle and bustle of New York City. Raleigh watched her every step, waiting for the heat between them to die down enough to cross the distance.

Moments passed and he came to stand beside her, his calloused hand testing the waters at the small of her back. When she didn’t react his thumb began drawing calming circles. 

Ever so softly he broke the harsh silence, “You know I’m right.” 

Cadence stepped from his grasp and turned to look him straight in the eye. “What you are is a thorn in my side,” she huffed out with a breath of air. 

Raleigh’s brows knitted together. Sure she’s mad at the world right now, but what’d this have to do with him? 

“Have you even written a thing in the last six months?” She rose an all-knowing, accusatory brow. “No. You haven’t. Your tour ended last year. Sort out your own damn career before you come after mine.”

The way she said it - with absolutely no feeling and heaps of bitter indifference - struck him to the core. Raleigh Carrera thought Cadence Dorian could be the one he’s be delighted to move mountains for. She was the one that had him falling madly, quickly, deeply in love ever since she materialized in his life. Never would he have guessed she regarded him with contempt. 

“If I’m such a waste why are you with me, huh?” he threw his hands in the air and tried to keep from yelling. “Actually - don’t answer that. I’ll do you one better, Cadence. We’re done.” Raleigh moved through the living space, grabbing his things that were scattered around and shoving them in his leather backpack. 

He was moving too quickly for Cadence to rebuke. She wasn’t fully cognizant with what was happening; her mind was still stuffed with the grief and torment of losing her songs. 

Raleigh was standing at the door when it all clicked together. 

Shit. 

“Lucky for us the world thinks we broke up months ago,” he called before slamming the door.  

Cadence regretted the words the moment the reverberated rattling forced her to realize he had taken her heated rant to heart. Raleigh had been nothing but a wonderful friend and a sweet clandestine lover in the months they’ve been intertwined. She didn’t mean it. She was just pissed that things always seem to work out for him and now she’s stuck.  

But pride would get the best of her and she’d let him walk away for good. 

________________________________________

Masterlist

@choicesficwriterscreations 

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @kaavyaethanramsey @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @aylaramseycarrera @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious @missmiimiie @uneravine  @peaceinmidstofchaos @choicesaddict5 @iemcpbchoices

Raleigh: 

@dulceghernandez

[cristalconnors]

BEST SONGS of 2019

20. “MOTIVATION”- Normani

“Why would we ever do something instead of falling into the bed right now?”

Watching the 2019 VMAs, it was easy to feel despondent about the current state of mainstream pop. And then Normani descended from a basketball hoop, breaking up a string of lifeless performances of cookie-cutter top 40 with a preposterously physical tour de force that harkened back to an era when pop fame felt like something closer to a meritocracy, when talent mattered more than spectacle. It felt like a major arrival: at last another pop goddess that truly had all the goods. The public may not have caught up to her quite yet, but “Motivation” is a statement of purpose for Normani: I’m here, I’m very fucking talented, and I’m not going anywhere.

19. “SO HOT YOU’RE HURTING MY FEELINGS”- Caroline Polachek

“I cry on the dancefloor, it’s so embarrassing”

The charms of “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings” are seemingly endless. First, there’s that title that makes you chuckle the first few times you hear it. Then, there’s the pre-chorus that title is effortlessly plugged into: a crystal clear image of lovelorn insecurity placed atop a sublimely simple melody that builds into a harmonious, show-stopping chorus. But the song’s zenith has got to be that bridge, marrying a mind-bending, distorted vocal solo that more closely resembles electric guitar with the singsongy refrain “show me your banana,” effortlessly striking a balance between the highbrow and the silly, casting Polachek as the carefree pop diva she perhaps always should have been.

18.“WAY TO THE SHOW”- Solange

“Candy paint down to the floor”

“I want it to bang and make your trunk rattle.” I think about that quote a lot when listening to “Way to the Show,” the grooviest track on When I Get Home- the one whose meandering funk bass line and countless key changes build to an explosion of synth runs and gun cocking, showcasing Knowles’s growth as both a songwriter and curator of mood as she crafts a singularly hallucinatory, heavenly vision of Houston and the sounds that raised her.

17. “WONDER BOY”- ARTHUR RUSSELL

“I’m a wonder boy. I can do nothing”

The back catalogue of notorious perfectionist and genreless chameleon Arthur Russell is so vast, so varied that even 27 years after he was taken from us, we’re still being treated to new material. Every single song of his that’s been released posthumously, including all 19 tracks of Iowa Dream, feel like their own revelation, each of them a uniquely dazzling bucking of all your expectations of what a song of his should sound like. “Wonder Boy” is unique in how tidily its melancholy, frosty images of impermanence sum up the tragic story of Arthur Russell the man- the brilliant artist who never found success and only ever managed to put out a single album while he was alive- the wonder boy who could do nothing.

16. “I THINK OF SATURDAY”- Moodymann

“I called you on Thursday... I called you on Friday...”

“I Think of Saturday” starts simply enough, listing the days of the week almost as a gimmick, evoking soul and early rock filtered through a house lens, until halfway through the song when the beat drops away, introducing a brief sample of Joe Simon’s “With You in Mind” that’s followed by the reintroduction of the beat, but now accompanied by a recurring distorted, dissonant chord that reframes the song as a sinisterly rousing account of unrequited desire and delusion that refracts itself over and over again. 

15. “SOFIA”- Clairo

“I think we could do it if we tried”

The opening bars of Clairo’s “Sofia” sound like a really good Strokes knock off, but the song quickly reveals itself to be something vastly more interesting, unfolding itself steadily over the course of three minutes as she and producer Rostam Batmanglij subvert well worn pop tropes to craft an exquisitely textured, soul-baring, and ultimately hopeful anthem for young wlw everywhere.

14. “LARK”- Angel Olsen

“What about my dreams?”

Olsen’s widescreen, abstract vision of a break-up song is thrillingly unbound from the constrictions of song structure and narrative, favoring instead the visceral power of strings and drastic dynamic contrast to craft a symphony in miniature, a “journey through grief” as Olsen herself describes it, that announces the bold, panoramic vision of her fourth album.

13. “WALK AWAY”- (Sandy) Alex G

“Someday I’m gonna walk away from you. Not today...”

“Walk Away” evokes the sense of being trapped, stuck in a cycle of recognizing unhealthy relationships or habits and being unable or unwilling to do anything about them, looping the simple two line refrain over and over and over again to weave a hopeless, woozy tapestry of crunching beats, acoustic and electric guitar, mournful piano and harpsichord, and distorted vocals.

12. “THIS COUNTRY MAKES IT HARD TO FUCK” (BJÖRK REMIX)- Fever Ray

“That’s not how to love me!”

Björk isolates the most memorable line from Fever Ray’s “This Country”- “this country makes it hard to fuck!”-and explodes it, distorting it and stretching it across a fearsome sample of the droning, discordant flutes from “Song of the Alféreces and Dances of the Chinos,” evoking a kind of tortured funhouse mirror image of the current state of reproductive rights that rightly recasts Fever Ray’s song as a horror film.

11. “ABOUT WORK THE DANCEFLOOR”- Georgia

“I was just thinking about work the danefloor...”

“About Work the Dancefloor” is Georgia’s ode to the cathartic, restorative powers of the dancefloor, where your worries fall away as you melt into the crowd and language abstracts itself, as evidenced by that perplexing chorus that doesn’t seem to mean anything- and why should it? When you’re lost in her pounding bass and gurgling synths, that incoherence is strangely comforting. You can cast whatever meaning you want onto it and work through it physically, together. 

10. “GONE”- Charli XCX & Christine and the Queens

“I try real hard, but I’m caught up by my insecurities”

The jelly squiggles that criss-cross Charli XCX and her collaborator’s faces on the artwork released for the singles from her latest album Charli suggest a kind of symbiosis, a cosmic intertwining of sorts. But only “Gone” achieves a true melding of the minds, where Charli and Chris’s best and boldest instincts collide, complimenting one another seamlessly in this dizzying vision of insecurity and isolation that unravels into a stunning pop abstraction. 

09. “CELLOPHANE”- FKA twigs

“Why don’t I do it for you?”

Usually for FKA twigs, more is more. Her songs are busy, even the slower ones, packed to the brim with glitches, unusual rhythms, and a million little details that pull attention, giving them texture and making them extremely immersive listening experiences. “Cellophane” pares those idiosyncrasies back. They’re still there, but the focus is twigs’s voice, which bends and cracks and really emotes in a way we’ve never heard. Her voice is naked and unvarnished, allowing her to be truly vulnerable in a way we’ve never heard either, and it’s heartbreaking. 

08. “CINNAMON GIRL”- Lana Del Rey

“If you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.”

“Cinnamon Girl” is the culmination of every other ballad she’s ever written. They were practice and this is the real deal- a painterly missive on tumultuous love that reads like a pained confession whispered in confidence, something Lana’s always done well, but her composition has never been so exquisite or immersive, so beautifully in concert with her poetry or her velvet voice, or so flawlessly constructed, effortlessly building toward a show-stopping finale that asserts Lana as the postmodern princess of Americana.

07. “COOKIE BUTTER”- Kim Gordon

“Industrial...metal...supplies...”

“Cookie Butter” has got to be the most stunning showcase of the power of Kim Gordon’s voice, as she drags out some vowels, muffles others, attacks consonants and bends words until they don’t sound like words anymore, all atop a trance inducing beat drives towards the song’s unlikely climax- Kim Gordon saying “cookie butter” in the most impossibly distinct way you could imagine that carries the weight of an EDM drop, leading the track into it’s disorienting second half that both clarifies and obscures the half that came before it. Haunting and addictive. 

06. “CATTAILS”- Big Thief

“You don’t need to know why when you cry.”

To hear Big Thief talk about the process of writing and recording “Cattails” on their episode of the Song Exploder podcast, one is struck by how organic it was. Adrianne Lenker describes it as a “magic wind” that swept through the studio, the song kind of falling out of them in one take. That sense of life comes through in the song, the simple, sublime repetition, bounce, and build of it sounding like a transmission from deep within the soul, a cosmic image of nostalgia and grief that is as cathartic as it is heavenly.

05. “GOD CONTROL”- Madonna

“I think I understand why people get a gun.”

“God Control” is ostensibly about gun control, though you’d be forgiven if you had a hard time discerning what exactly she’s trying to say. Like some of her best work, it’s provocative and maybe a little empty, but damn if it isn’t supremely interesting and compelling as hell. Madonna taps into a sense of apocalyptic malaise and skepticism of authority that feels at times remarkably in tune with the public consciousness, at others a grotesque caricature of it, to uniformly fascinating results as she spins a deranged disco yarn that, once those swirling strings hit, is downright euphoric. 

04. “GOLD TEETH”- Blood Orange, ft. Gangsta Boo, Project Pat, & Tinashe

“We gon’ rumble in this ho!”

Blood Orange takes Project Pat’s “Rinky Dink II/We’re Gonna Rumble” and explodes it, gifting it both playful levity and added depth with a rollicking beat minor chord synths respectively, effortlessly criss crossing Hynes’s many disparate strengths and interests in the most effortlessly rousing and joyful track in his entire ouevre, elevated by the powerhouse Three 6 Mafia reunion verses of Gangsta Boo and Project Pat himself.

03. “INCAPABLE”- Róisín Murphy

“I don’t know if I can love, in all honesty.”

“Incapable,” Róisín Murphy’s virtuosic disco epic, stops time. That indelibly simple bass line loops over and over and over again until you’re lost in it, the song slowly building itself on top of it, adding claps here, hi hat there, rising towards a stunning sequence backed by whooshing synths where the song really comes alive, where an almost boastful breakup anthem morphs into a glamorously melancholy self-indictment in which she ponders that maybe it’s her there’s something wrong with, creating a dazzling dichotomy between the pitfalls of introspection and the bliss of the dancefloor.

02. “MOVIES”- Weyes Blood

“The meaning of life doesn’t seem to shine like that screen.”

“Movies,” appropriately, plays out with a big screen gloss. Those arpeggiated synths feel like they’re slowly expanding as Natalie Mering coos atop them, wondering how if movies are fake, how come they’re more real than anything in real life? As the synths suddenly give way to frenzied strings, the song splits itself open, giving itself over wholly to the melodrama, the sweeping enormity of feeling that Mering so masterfully conjures as she longs for the vitality, the simple answers, and the meaningfulness of movies.

01. “DO YOU LOVE HER NOW”- Jai Paul

“There’s a time for everything.”

On June 1, 2019, when I first read the news that Jai Paul had released new music, news so momentous it was accompanied by a red “breaking news” banner on Pitchfork’s home page, I immediately found my headphones and sequestered myself. I knew whatever I was about to listen to would require my undivided attention. Quite frankly, I was shocked it existed at all. After the notorious, devastating leak of his music in 2013, he’d exiled himself so thoroughly that it was easy to believe he was just gone forever. But here it was, the second coming- two (2!) new songs, effectively doubling the amount of  (completed) material he’s released in an official capacity. 

Pressing play, I was a little nervous that it wouldn’t live up to my expectations, that it might somehow diminish the work of his that I’d loved so much, that changed the way I think about pop and R&B. That didn’t end up being a problem. While “He” is excellent, “Do You Love Her Now” is maybe the most stunning piece of music he’s ever written. Billowing, moseying guitars provide the heartbeat for what starts as a straightforward, sublimely simple send up of 60′s and 70′s R&B. But this Jai Paul we’re talking about, and nothing he does is simple. Nuances and complexities creep out organically from the fabric of the song- synths whiz in and out, harmonies soar to the forefront of the soundscape seemingly out of nowhere and fall away just as suddenly, crafting an immersive, richly textured listening experience that is unpredictable, washing over you like a wave, building, cresting, and crashing over and over again. 

[swordandcat]

Three’s a Crowd but Nine’s a Party: Chapter 7

(AO3 Link)

Progress

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was plain, and uninspiring, and came from an uninteresting family. She didn’t have a father, and her mother was always busy with work, leaving the girl to her own devices. Despite her tremendous bad luck, there was nothing that others would find interesting in her. No talents, no intrigue, no engagement. She was left alone.

Isolated, and continually plagued by misfortune, she wondered what made her different from the other girls in school. Why were they happy, and why was she not? Why did their parents pick them up, and why did hers not?

She read a lot. Stories, myths, legends. She eventually came to a startling conclusion: she must not be like most people. Surely, she was treated differently because she herself was different.

In her childish desperation to find meaning out of the emptiness in her life, she filled that emptiness with delusions of grandeur. She believed she was an angel, struck from Heaven and descended to Hell. Her misfortune? A curse from God. Her loneliness? Penance for her existence.

Life moved on swiftly with this new discovery. For a time, it filled her heart. Her own imagination was enough to keep her moving, facing forward.

Then the little girl grew up. And her delusions weren’t as well received as they were in her early childhood. It was harmless at first. Teasing, joking, light ribbing. Her delusions made her the center of attention. It was almost fulfilling.

Then teasing turned to pranks, escalating in severity. The jokes were no longer harmless, made at the girl’s expense. Things went missing, diligently done work stolen and copied, or defaced. She was cornered during breaks and lunch, pushed around like a rag doll.

For a time, the girl bore it with patience. Her mother was still busy, all the time. She didn’t want to distract her from her work. She didn’t want to cause problems. If staying silent could keep things quiet, then she would be silent.

She thought, perhaps, it would end eventually. But it kept going. And it kept getting worse. Things of real value were taken from her. Jewellery, money. Public humiliation. The girl’s thoughts got darker, and darker, her delusions driving her into a corner. More than once, she contemplated ending it all, embracing sweet release.

But before she was driven to that, a light shone upon her.

She remembered the moment vividly still. It was in the wake of another merciless round of humiliation. The girl was curled up in a corner, out of sight, hoping she would just disappear.

That’s when she appeared.

“Are you okay?” An angel. A real one, not make-believe like the girl. She reached out with a hand of salvation, and for a moment the girl was so shaken she didn’t even know to take it.

“I’m new around here. Can you show me around?”

Like a drowning soul to driftwood, the girl grasped onto the hand, allowing herself to be saved.

Things got better. No longer alone, the girl was at last happy. The angel did not mind her delusions, delighted in them, even. She humoured the girl’s imagination, gladly going along with her daydreams. It was like a dream come true for the girl. She sought validation from her new friend, proof that her life was worth value. She confided in her as well, her fears, her weaknesses, the darkness in her heart. The angel took them in stride, soothing the wounds in the girl’s soul, showering her in love and affection.

They grew close.

Even the bullying stopped. It was like a miracle. Everything was good.

But it was not to last. Her misfortune reared its ugly head. Signs of unrest began to surface.

“Mana.”

The girl sat with the angel, staring out to sea. Their hands were intertwined, a physical manifestation of their connected hearts.

The angel tilted her head, looking at the girl with a gentle smile. “What is it, Yohane?”

“I saw the she-devils talking to you the other day,” the girl said carefully. She looked at the angel. “Were they bothering you?”

The angel shook her head. “I’m fine, Yohane. They just wanted something from me.”

The girl stared into the angel’s eyes, and she trusted her. She nodded, letting the topic go.

But she spotted more things as time went on. The angel was as radiant as ever, but she seemed less lively. Tired. Sometimes when she smiled at the girl, it wouldn’t quite reach her eyes.

Then one day, she was gone. The girl had only known after the fact that she was hospitalized for severe depression and anxiety. The angel had shouldered the girl’s burden, taking the torture that was intended for the girl onto herself. And even one as radiant as the angel could only take so much. She broke, refusing to see anyone, not even the girl.

The others blamed the girl.

The girl blamed herself as well.

She was cursed. To hurt herself. To hurt anyone around her. She shut herself away, putting on a stoic front. Emotionless, and unassailable. As for the delusions that caused this, she locked them away, knowing that it was exactly those that made her and the angel a target. Even if she was nothing without the delusions, even if she was just an empty shell, at least no one would get hurt.

And never again would the girl allow someone to be hurt because of her.

* * * * *

Yoshiko laughed as she finished her story, her voice hollow and bitter.

“So I distanced myself from the world. I’m not going to let it happen again, not to anyone,” She took a deep breath. “Especially not to you.”

“Yoshiko…” Yo’s voice cracked. “I never knew…”

“I’m not… proud of what I did.” Yoshiko looked away. “I relied on her. Too much. I could have— Should have— seen what was happening. But I let my happiness blind me. Because I was too selfish and cowardly to fight my own fights.”

She bit her lip, feeling a wet heat in her eyes. No - don’t cry, not now, goddamn it.

But no matter how hard she fought it, the dark memories dredged up long forgotten emotions, ones she’s tried to lock away for her whole life. Tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks, and she broke down, the mental walls she built up crumbling as she felt, as vividly as ever, the crushing guilt and regret that had haunted her for her entire life.

She turned to the only person she could - Yo, sitting next to her - and clung onto her for dear life, using Yo as an anchor to avoid being washed away by her emotions altogether.

Momentarily caught off guard, Yo quickly regained her composure and put her arms comfortingly around Yoshiko, gently patting her on the back. “It’s okay,” Yo said soothingly. “Let it all out.”

As Yoshiko continued to wail and sob into her shoulder, Yo said quietly, “I’m not going to pretend to understand how you feel. You’ve been through so much more than I have… You’re so much stronger than I am.”

Yoshiko shook her head, somewhat petulantly, like a frustrated child. “I- I’m not… I’m a coward…”

“A coward wouldn’t throw herself under the bus, again and again, just to protect her friends,” Yo said patiently, but firmly. “You’re brave, Yoshiko.”

She looked away briefly, adding under her breath, “Braver than I ever will be.”

Yoshiko didn’t seem to catch that, just continuing to cry, exhausting her bottled up negative emotions in the process. Yo simply allowed her to do so, rocking her gently from side to side and tenderly stroking her along her back. Minutes of this passed, as Yoshiko let out years’ worth of distress and insecurities.

“But you know…” Yo murmured quietly. “You don’t have to bear it alone anymore. You have friends. People who care for you.”

She licked her lips, trying to think of a way to vocalize what she was feeling. “This Mana... she took it all onto herself. Your pain and hers. We don’t have to do that. I’m not going to take responsibility for all of your problems, and I’m not going to ask you to bear all of mine, either. But there are things that we can share. Weights that we can carry together. Aoki, for example. Pressure from our peers. That’s not something that we should shoulder individually. That would break anyone.”

She paused for a moment, seeing if her words were having any effect. Yoshiko seemed to have calmed down a little, though she was still sniffling and hiccupping. “And it’s not just me. There’s Ruby, and Hanamaru. Hell, even Chika and Riko. We’re all in this together. There’s no need for you to be alone, when you’re surrounded by people willing to support you.”

Yoshiko took a shuddering breath, and pulled back a little so Yo could see her weak smile. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely, wiping the trickle of tears off her cheeks.

“It’s the least I can do,” Yo said. “Given how I’ve… not been the best to you recently.”

Yoshiko shook her head, but Yo put a hand up to silence her objections for the moment. “Just… as I’ve said. I’ve kept you hanging ever since we had the talk. I haven’t really done anything to move forward either, so…”

She took a deep breath, and with newfound determination she stared into Yoshiko’s eyes. “I’m going to confess to Chika. She’s going to turn me down properly. Completely break my heart. Then I can move on and give you the attention you deserve. I can finally be the girlfriend that you’ve waited so long for.”

Yoshiko’s eyes teared up again, but this time not from her repressed memories, but from long overdue joy. Smiling tearily, she cleared her throat and leaned in close, her breath tickling Yo’s face. It was obvious what she was aiming for, but she still paused with an inch between them, and asked breathily, “Can I?”

Rather than answering, Yo leaned forward and closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together. It was clumsy and impromptu, and Yo felt like it would have been much better under more romantic circumstances, but it was still a magical experience. The last time they kissed was when Chika broke Yo’s heart by going out with Riko. Yoshiko had kissed her to prove a point.

This time, they wanted it. Both of them. It was like a spark passed between them, drawing them close, a magnetic force binding them together and urging them to push for more and more. Needy hands wandered each other’s bodies, pulling them close, tangling in hair and sneaking under clothes. They were breathless, but energized; emotionally exhausted yet jubilant.

Yoshiko was smiling from ear to ear, and Yo had a lopsided grin on her face. Both were breathing heavily, and being so close together they could feel the rise and fall of each other’s chests, and their beating hearts beneath. “That escalated quickly,” Yoshiko murmured breathlessly.

“It could escalate more,” Yo blurted out, not even sure if she was ready for what that implied but still desperately wanting more.

Yoshiko’s cheeks, already flushed, grew a darker shade of red. But instead of going further, she pushed gently against Yo and cleared her that. “That’s very tempting,” Yoshiko said, shyly tracing a pattern onto the bed sheets. “But you’ve given me a lot to think about.”

She licked her lips nervously. “I’m… not sure if I’m ready for it.”

Yo breathed in, clearing her head of the manic desire that had temporarily overtaken her in the moment of exhilaration. “Right. No, you’re right, of course. I just— I got caught up in the moment.”

Yoshiko nodded, understanding what Yo meant completely. She’d been waiting for this moment for so long. Ever since that first kiss. Yoshiko felt like she was getting drunk off of the affection Yo was showering her with.

But now that they were this close, old fears flared up again. It would be so easy for either of them to get hurt. One misstep and everything could have been for nothing.

For however much Yoshiko craved intimacy, she was just as afraid of actually getting it.

“I need to get used to… thinking about myself,” Yoshiko said quietly. “And what you said as well. It’ll take a long time for me to get back to being normal.”

“You don’t have to be ‘normal’, Yoshiko. You’re you,” Yo said.

Yoshiko shook her head. “You’ve been helping me see my flaws since the first time we’ve met. I didn’t learn my lesson the first time around. I… want to be normal. I want to be better.”

“Until I am, I don’t know if I will ever be ready.” Yoshiko looked down. “I’m sorry if you wanted more.”

Yo shook her head. “It’s only fair that it’s my turn to wait. Besides, I have my own problems to sort out. I… don’t know if I’m ready either.”

Sitting a little straighter, she took both of Yoshiko’s hands into her own. “But we can work through them together. Your change. My problems.”

“Together,” Yoshiko breathed, looking down and smiling. “This sounds ridiculous and cheesy and dumb, you know that?”

“Yes, but,” Yo leaned forward, pecking Yoshiko on the lips. “I’m cheesy, and ridiculous, and dumb. You’ll have to get used to it.”

Yoshiko rolled her eyes, giggling with uncharacteristic glee. “Thanks, Yo. Today just went from the worst to the best.”

“You’d think seeing Aoki get punched would make it best by default,” Yo smirked.

Yoshiko considered that for a moment. “Even bester,” She decided, flashing Yo a wonderfully wide smile. But then she thought a little more, and her expression grew a little more serious.

“But just to be completely realistic, I’m a lot to handle.” Yoshiko began, “I’m not very good at talking. I can be temperamental.”

“That’s okay,” Yo said softly. “No one’s perfect.”

“Are you really okay with someone like me?” Yoshiko asked, her voice small.

“That’s a silly question,” Yo said. “I’m okay because you’re the way you are.”

* * * * *

In the end, Yoshiko had ended up staying the night. Her mom was fine with it, and Yo’s mother seemed all for it as well. At first Yo’s mom was concerned about Yo’s suspension, but after a quick defense from Yoshiko, she even offered to talk to the school to lift the punishment.

They went to bed early that night, the events of the day taking their toll on their exhaustion. They slept together, cuddled up under the sheets. Yoshiko fell asleep quickly, all the crying having tired her out completely, but Yo stayed awake for a while, content to just hold Yoshiko and enjoy her presence, though she eventually drifted off to sleep as well.

In the morning, Yoshiko woke up in a tangle of limbs next to Yo. For a moment she panicked, wondering why she was in bed with Yo, until she remembered what had transpired yesterday.

She lay there, for a moment overcome with conflicting emotions.

She couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Despite all of her missteps, despite her messing up again and again and misinterpreting what to do, Yo was still willing to accept her. Even after hearing her story, knowing what she’s done to Mana, she didn’t turn her back on Yoshiko.

She pinched herself, to make sure she hadn’t just retreated so far into her mind that she was hallucinating.

No, this was real.

She had to resist the urge to squeal out loud. All this time, she had fully expected Yo to change her mind and decide she didn’t like Yoshiko all along. But she didn’t.

It sucked that her laptop was broken, sure, but that hardly put a dent in Yoshiko’s newfound happiness. Despite being terrified to death that she’d let Yo down again, messing up somehow and ruining their relationship, Yoshiko was feeling optimistic for the first time in weeks.

She carefully freed at least her upper body, turning to look out of the window. The sky was bright, the sun well up into its daily arc. Yo was suspended, and she herself was given time off due to the circumstances, so neither of them was required to go to class.

The clock read about 9AM. She didn’t want to wake Yo, but it was necessary to free her legs from beneath the girl. She pushed Yo gently, shaking her by the shoulders. Yo mumbled something incoherent, and opened her eyes blearily.

“I had the weirdest dream that we actually managed to kiss,” she said, still only half-awake.

“We did manage to kiss,” Yoshiko informed her.

“Oh.” Yo said, taking a moment to absorb that information. “Cool.”

Her cheeks turned red, but she took the news in stride as she glanced at Yoshiko, “Does that mean we’re dating now? I don’t think we established that.”

“Well, everyone at school thinks we are now,” Yoshiko shrugged, feigning disinterest. “Might as well, right?”

“I feel like that’s a really arbitrary way of deciding if we’re dating or not,” Yo said, but nevertheless she smiled and snuggled closer to Yoshiko. “I mean, not that I mind.”

Yoshiko’s cheeks flushed, a warm fuzzy sensation spreading throughout her body just at Yo’s proximity.

It was strange.

In spite of everything, all of her worries and her doubts about whether or not this was the right course of action, and wondering if Yo would get hurt because of her... now that Yoshiko was actually there, with Yo right beside her, those concerns seemed utterly insignificant.

She still felt them, just as acutely as ever, but being with Yo just seemed… right.

The last time she felt like this, she was with Mana.

Yoshiko shook her head as doubt crept back at the recollection of her. It was going to be different this time.

“Hey,” She spoke up abruptly, trying to distract herself. “Do you have plans for today?”

“Well, I want to talk to Riko later,” Yo said. “About… y’know. I don’t want her to think I’m actually trying to take Chika away.”

“It’s not like you could. From what little I’ve seen those two are stupid in love…” Yoshiko mused.

She wondered if things could have gone better between her and Yo if they had just been more honest with each other, like Chika and Riko seemed to be.

“It almost makes you jealous, doesn’t it?” Yo said, causing Yoshiko to look up in surprise. Was Yo thinking the same thing as her?

“They seem so… functional,” Yo tilted her head, smiling self-deprecatingly. “I wonder how they do it.”

“I’m sure we could be functional too, given time,” Yoshiko said quietly.

“You think so?” Yo looked down at her hands. “It took me this long to be able to come to terms with my own feelings.”

“One can hope, anyway,” Yoshiko mumbled, before she sat up, and got off the bed, stretching languidly. “Can we get breakfast now? I’m hungry.”

Yo smiled, and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Let’s look at what we’ve got downstairs.”

* * * * *

Riko sighed. Despite by and large being quite good at studying, she found herself unable to focus on the lesson, the teacher’s rambling about the Edo period going way over her head. She spun the pen in her hand, clicked it twice, spun it again.

“Riko,”

She sighed again, and looked out of the window. Yo didn’t come to school. She heard the news about her being suspended, but it was still a bit of a shock to come to school and find her desk empty.

“Riko—”

She picked up the pen, and doodled a treble clef onto the corner of her notebook. She felt bad for Yo. She was just standing up for the girl she liked, she shouldn’t be punished for that. Sure, she punched someone, but it was righteous self-defense, right?

“Riko!”

Chika jabbed Riko right between the shoulder blades, causing her to squeak out in surprise. “Whuh- What?” She looked around. The whole class was looking at her. Riko whimpered, her cheeks turning bright red.

“Ms. Sakurauchi… please pay attention in class,” her teacher said, mildly annoyed. “Now, can anyone tell me when the Edo period was officially ended…”

Riko breathed out, slumping forward slightly and trying not to draw any more attention to herself.

“Hey, Riko,” Chika whispered, leaning forward. "What’s up? It’s not like you to get so easily distracted.”

“It’s nothing… just worried about Yo.”

Riko breathed out. “The rumour that she and Tsushima are dating has spread. Not all of it is good, too. I heard some girls saying that she’s picked Tsushima just to make herself look better.”

“We know that’s not true, though,” Chika said. “Isn’t that the important thing? Yo’s not the kind of person who would mind, either.”

“But still,” Riko murmured. “It feels like we should do something about it.”

Chika shrugged, and turned to focus back onto the lesson. “I’ve tried before. People will say what they want to say,” She said. “We should wait until she gets back before trying anything.”

Disappointed, but acknowledging Chika’s point, Riko sighed and focused back on the lesson as well.

Eventually the bell for the end of school rang, and Riko breathed a sigh of relief as she stretched her arms out after a long day of taking notes.

“Hey~” Chika sidled up behind her, draping her arms over Riko’s shoulders and pulling her in a loose hug. “You’re gonna go to the music room again?”

Riko nodded. “I want to submit a composition for an upcoming contest,” she said. “You don’t have to wait for me, I’ll probably be a while.”

Chika pouted, but nodded and gave Riko a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “We playing tonight?”

“I’ll login if I can,” Riko promised, waving her off as Chika left the classroom.

She sighed, touching a hand to the spot where Chika kissed. A year ago, she couldn’t even imagine being this physically close to someone. Now she couldn’t imagine a life - at least in the near future - without Chika.

As she started to head over to the music room, her phone buzzed.

<Yo>

Hey

Are you busy?

Riko tilted her head at the text.

<Riko>

Not really

Did you need something?

<Yo>

Actually yeah

I kinda want to talk

In person

Its pretty important

Riko raised an eyebrow at the message. It didn’t seem like Yo to arbitrarily exaggerate something, so it probably was important.

<Riko>

Can it wait?

I’m at school right now, but I can meet you somewhere

<Yo>

Uhh

Can I meet you at your place?

I might need to swing by Chika’s afterwards as well anyway

<Riko>

Sure.

I’ll go home and wait for you?

<Yo>

Yeah, okay.

Thanks.

Strange. Even through text, Yo seemed tense. Normally she’d be more casual. Breathing out somewhat uneasily, Riko put away her sheet music - she could compose another day - and prepared to head home.

* * * * *

Yo fiddled with the hem of her shirt nervously as she and Yoshiko stood outside Riko’s house.

“What if she hates me?” Yo said suddenly.

Yoshiko shook her head, holding Yo’s hand. “You’ll be fine,” she said consolingly. “Riko won’t hate you.”

“What if she hates me and she tells Chika and Chika never talks to me again?”

“Yo.” Yoshiko stared flatly at her. Yo stared back, and sighed after a few moments.

“…Right, you’re right. I’m just being dumb,” Yo said meekly.

“I thought I’m supposed to be the pessimist,” Yoshiko said jokingly. She sighed, and squeezed Yo’s hand. “Look. If you’re not ready for this, you don’t have to do this.”

“No, I do.” Yo said, her voice firm despite her nervousness. “I… I need this. For closure, if nothing else.”

“Just say what you need to say,” Yoshiko said. “You said we’ll start sharing burdens. I’ll be there to support you.”

“Yoshiko…” Yo smiled, and took a deep breath. “Okay. Here goes.”

She stepped forward, and pressed the doorbell. A few nerve-wracking moments later, the door opened, with Riko standing behind it in the doorway.

“Hey, Yo,” Riko said, smiling at Yo, then noticing Yoshiko and nodding at her as well. Her gaze did wander over their held hands, but she didn’t comment on it. “Yoshiko.”

“Can we come in?” Yo asked nervously.

“Oh, of course! Would you like to go to my room? It’s a little cramped and messy, but at least Mom won’t walk in on us,” Riko said, leading them inside and upstairs.

In spite of her claims, Riko’s room was neither cramped or messy. Books were neatly shelved away. The bed was tidily done, and the piano was pristine, a protective cover draped delicately over it. Riko gestured towards the bed and seats. “You can sit wherever. Do you want anything to drink? Tea?”

“It’s… fine,” Yo said, sitting down on the edge of Riko’s bed. Yoshiko sat down next to her. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Well, alright,” Riko murmured, sitting down on the piano bench and looking towards Yo. “So, what’s this about having to talk? Is everything alright?”

“Everything is… fine. Nothing is wrong, if that’s what you’re worried about, it’s just…” Yo took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you about… Chika. I want your permission to do something.”

“Chika?” Riko frowned, confused. “Permission to do what?”

“I— well,” Yo cleared her throat. “I’ve… well. For the longest time, I’ve had a… a crush on Chika. Even up until recently, I’ve had lingering feelings for her. Even when you two are together, and happy.”

Riko nodded slowly. She glanced at Yoshiko, then back at Yo, gesturing for her to continue.

“I don’t— I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take Chika away from you. Because I’m not. I just,” Yo took a deep breath. “I want to give Yoshiko the attention she deserves. And I don’t feel like I can do that if I’m still thinking about Chika, even if just a little bit.”

“I want to confess to Chika. And I want her to reject me. I think that will give me the closure I need to move on,” Yo said. “I wanted you to know that I’m planning to do this.”

Riko’s expression was unreadable for a moment. She breathed out slowly, nodding slightly. “Okay. I… appreciate you telling me this. I might have misunderstood something if you didn’t.”

She glanced out the window for a moment, over the balcony and at Chika’s room. She then turned back to look at Yo, and smiled at her. “I’m not going to get mad, if that’s what you’re worried about. Really, I’m grateful you trust me with this. And… I trust you too. If you think this is something you need to do, then you should do it.”

She chuckled, playing with a strand of her hair bashfully as she continued, “Actually, Chika and I were kind of worried. You seemed a little out of it lately. I’m glad you’re trying to get to a better place. And,” She grinned at both Yo and Yoshiko. “Congratulations on finally getting together. Took you long enough.”

Yo blushed, as did Yoshiko. “Riko!” Yo whined. “You’re supposed to be the nice one. Is Chika infecting you?”

“Well, it’s your fault for taking so long to do it.” Riko shrugged. She stood up, and gave her a small smile. “So, are you going to do it today?”

“As soon as possible,” Yo said, trying hard not to grimace. “It’s going to hurt, but… I’ll be better for it.”

“Then you can do it right here,” Riko said. Walking over to the balcony, she leaned slightly over the edge and shouted, “Chika! Are you there?”

There was the thumping of feet, and Chika threw the window open, leaning out as well. “Riko! I thought you were staying at school?”

“Change in plans,” Riko said. “Hey - guess who’s here with me?”

Chika frowned, tilting her head. “You have a guest?”

“Yup!” Riko turned around, beckoning for Yo to come forward. “Actually, she has something to say to you.”

Yo swallowed, the fluttering in her stomach getting worse by the moment. As though sensing her nervousness, Yoshiko gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You can do it,” she said quietly.

“…Thanks,” Yo said.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward onto the balcony.

Riko smiled and retreated, gesturing for Yoshiko as well. “Let’s give them some space,” She whispered.

Yoshiko nodded, and the two of them stepped out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Now alone in the room, Yo took another steadying breath and gave Chika a shaky smile.

“Hey, Chika,” She said. She put a hand on her heart, trying to still her heartbeat. “Can we talk?”

[thatfairyfangirl]

Written In The Stars Chapter 15

On the day the wanderers left Gondor Vorris's long scraggled dark hair brushed against Steluta's cheeks as he planted a soft kiss on his daughter's head. “I have some important business to tend to. But this road is important for you both. Be on your way, I will meet you in the shire.” He whispered to her softly. So was his way, and the way of her people. Never had she known her father to stray her from a path she felt she must, nor anyone who traveled among them.

“I will count the days father. You will be well missed.” She replied with a smile before watching as he made his way North, never questioning where he might be going.

The old wanderer stood with arms tucked behind his back as he paced the floor in front of Thranduil's throne, each king eyeing each other proudly, king of the wood wondering just how he got past the guards.

“What do you want now vagabond?” Thranduil asked as he looked down on him from his throne. “I have made it quite clear we have no business.”

“We have the most important business.” Vorris corrected him. “Our children. Your son and my daughter.”

Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh as his head sunk into his elegant hand. “This tired offer again? I do not want your daughter in my fold.”

“It would seem your son does.” Thranduil sat forward at Vorris's words

“Don't lie to me gypsy. Why would he want that?”

Vorris swallowed his pride at the word, reminding himself he was here for his daughter's sake. “Why does the moon chase the sun? Or the river flow to the sea?”

“Why are my roads this important to you? What is out there I know not of?” Thranduil asked in a low suspicious tone as his eyes narrowed to the wandering king.

“The happiness of our children.” Vorris's simple answer was far from what the elf expected.

“Explain yourself!” He demanded as he rose, feeling a well of offence grow in the pit of his stomach at such a statement.

“They have met. And love has grown. Call him home, you will see.”

Six months later

Legolas's eyes narrowed coldly as he drew his bow slowly back, peering down the shaft of the arrow to a great stag. He found it extremely difficult to be in this small patch of wood as of late, ever since he found the white roses growing there he could swear he could hear her voice echo on the wind, singing the sad tune of Nimrodel. But today he did not hear the song of his people...this song was new. “Steluta?” He whispered to himself as he let the bow and arrow drop, leaving the stag to dart off as he turned to make for the edge of his trees.

Not too far off his borders Steluta's caravan rolled down a road marked only by the wheel marks of wagons that came before them. Steluta sat atop her colorful wagon as it was pulled along, guided by others infront of her as her sullen voice filled the air, the road feeling more like a cell the longer she was made to be apart from her elf.

“Sister,” Danior offered climbing onto the roof of Steluta's wagon. For months now her song has saddened the air surrounding them. “We are close to Mirkwood. Your elf is near.” It wasn't much but it was all the comfort he could offer his sister.

“I wouldn't expect him there.” She said with a shake of her head. “You should have seen him in Fangorn. He wished to walk it again when times were less dire. I should expect he is there now.”

Danior's dark eyes watched the wood growing closer, catching sight of the woodland Prince emerging, sprinting toward them. “Stop the caravan!” He called out leaping from wagon top to wagon top until he landed by his father. “We must stop!” Curious Steluta looked up from her love's lament to see golden hair whipping in the autumn breeze as he ran closer.

The father and son watched as A smile finally returned to their star of Mandalay as she slipped from her perch to sprint across the land until the elf and wanderer pulled each other into a sweet embrace, tasting each others lips at last again. “Don't make her marry father. She will never be happy without him.” Danior begged his father.

“It is too late son. It has been written in the stars.” He told him as he let a sharp whistle that cut the air, signalling to move again, toward the wood He emerged from, passing the lovers. “I told you you would love your groom. Lead on elf. We have business with your father.”

Legolas's eyes grew wide as he looked up to the traveling king. Could this be true? The arrangement had been set? He was so taken with joy he couldn't speak, only scoop her up into his arms to plant o deep passionate kiss on her soft tender lips.

Watching the two young lovers approach the wooden throne Thranduil let out a defeated sigh. All this time the road walkers were right. “Before I fully agree to this I need a guarantee that the only place outside if Middle Earth my son will travel is to the undying lands.”

Vorris shook his head. “We don't -”

“Agreed!” Steluta snapped cutting off her father's insistence to never pull someone from the road.

“And we must be granted access to the road that runs through your forest.” Vorris added with a nod, conceding to his daughter's wishes.

“Done!” Legolas spoke up before his father's lips could part. He turned to his father giving a shrug and begging eyes. Thranduil let his hand fall, his long elegant fingers waving dismissively his agreement. How did it come to this? He was about to marry off his only son to a family with delusions of grandeur. How can this be who he chooses?

“It would make bearing a child of forest and road all the safer.” Vorris offered. “Surely you would care for the safety of your grandchildren.”

Thranduil's head perked up at the comment. The way Vorris spoke made it seem like there would be more unions of elf and song master. What has this old wanderer foreseen now?

~ ~ ~ ~

Late in the night the moon hung dark casting no light to pale the glittering of the stars as Steluta stepped from her wagon home. Hair that was once untamed wild locks now untangled streamed down her back held off her face with intertwining braids accented with small white rosebuds matching the white skirt that flowed from her bare waist and half corset top. Legolas watched her emerge with wide eyes, in awe as she glowed in the starlight. Her eyes rose to find her beloved wearing his silvery tunic, long elegant hair tied into neat braids wrapping around a single white rose and a colorful hip scarf tied snuggly around his waist. She couldn't help smiling blissfully at him.

Thranduil stood back watching as her mother and father both kissed her lightly just above the star on her brow before letting her go off to meet him. They explained to the king that their marriage ceremony dates back to the later years of the first age, before the dark lord drove them from their lands. He nodded as he was reminded the wanderers used to inhabit Mordor, recalling the days when the elves offered them safe harbor from Sauron's evil, but they insisted on finding land made new. “The brown lands have laid barren for far long enough I think.” He commented as he watched his son smile like he hasn't seen since his mother lived. “Perhaps it is time someone cultivated the land and remind it how to grow.”

Vorris nodded, grateful for the gesture in the words. “Mandalay is promised, foretold by the seven sisters themselves. When the white rose blooms where none could we will know we are home.”

As they spoke, forming the beginnings of mending ties for the sake of their children Legolas's fingers caressed his love's cheek, admitting to her that he has no idea what to say. With a soft grin her fingers entangled themselves in his hair, finding a home in the silky tendrils. “I promise no matter the road I will walk by your side. I Steluta Star of Mandalay come to you under the light of the seven sisters to pledge to you my undying love and devotion. Stars may fade and the sun may fall, but what I feel will outlast it all.”

Legolas's arms wrapped around her waist as he looked down into the stars twinkling in her eyes. “I promise no matter the road I will walk by your side. I Legolas of the Woodland Realm come to you under the light of the seven sisters to pledge to you my undying love and devotion. Stars may fade and the sun may fall, but what I feel will outlast it all.” He repeated the pledge before pulling her into a sweet adoring embrace brushing his lips against hers. She pulled him in closer as he lifted her, their lips refusing to part as he carried her into her wagon to consummate their union and after so long bringing her premonition at the beginning of their journey to finally come to pass.