#I spent a long time listening to the songs on loop

[melhyan]

I had the pleasure to play my new baby girl Mirena the other day and I love her so very much- I finally finished her first ever portrait in like two hours tops and I haven't used Krita in so long, please be nice lmao- X'DDDD

Meet Mirena, my ocean-bard-druid hybrid queen with selkie vibes and pirate sea shanty energy. Yes, this is Sydney Sweeney as her face claim because FINALLY, someone with my body shape 🥹❤️ Sydney is healing my soul and my body dysmorphia one stunning photo at a time.

🔒 DO NOT repost, use, trace, or even THINK about stealing this art unless you want me to personally drag you into the Mariana Trench, where you’ll be forced to listen to Despacito on loop while dolphins side-eye you for eternity. Consider this your fair warning.

Name: Mirena Zadruga Race: Selkie (Homebrew Race) Class: Circle of the Sea Druid Background: Folk Singer Alignment: Neutral Good

Mirena was born on a stormy night under a crescent moon in a small fishing village perched on jagged cliffs above a restless sea. The villagers often spoke of that night with wonder, claiming the waves had calmed the moment her first cries echoed through the salty air. Her father, a humble and warm-hearted fisherman named Karel, cradled her close, his eyes brimming with both love and sorrow. For Mirena's mother, the enigmatic and beautiful Lyse, had vanished into the sea, leaving behind only a sleepy Mirena wrapped into an old sealskin cloak hidden beneath their bed.

Unbeknownst to Mirena in her early years, her mother was no ordinary woman. Lyse was a selkie, a mystical seal-being who had shed her seal form to live among humans for love. Her disappearance was shrouded in mystery, though whispers spread among the village elders, who muttered of selkies being drawn back to the sea by powerful magic or bitter heartbreak. Karel never spoke of it, raising Mirena with quiet strength and an endless supply of sea shanties and folktales.

From an early age, Mirena felt the pull of the ocean in her bones. She spent her days at the water’s edge, collecting shells, singing to the waves, and weaving intricate patterns in the wet sand. Her voice was hauntingly beautiful, carrying a strange resonance that seemed to soothe the gulls and draw seals closer to shore. By the time she was twelve, Mirena had discovered she had a gift: when she sang, the sea listened. Storms would calm, injured seabirds would find their strength, and even the most hardened sailors would shed a tear at her melodies.

One fateful day, while rummaging through the attic, Mirena found the sealskin cloak. The moment her fingers brushed the soft, weathered pelt, a wave of memories and emotions surged through her. She saw glimpses of her mother’s life beneath the waves, felt the ache of her mother’s love for her and Karel, and heard a soft, lilting voice telling her to cherish both her human heart and her selkie soul. Overwhelmed but emboldened, Mirena began to truly embrace her connection to the sea.

Abilities and Features (for those interested)

Selkie Racial Traits:

Amphibious: You can breathe both air and water.

Shapechanger: You can use an action to transform into a seal (use stats for a giant seal or similar). Reverting requires another action.

Ocean’s Grace: You have advantage on checks involving swimming, navigating waterways, or calming sea creatures.

Seal’s Song: Once per long rest, you can sing an enchanting melody that charms creatures within 30 feet.

Fun fact: The final push to finish Mirena’s character came from obsessively listening to Broken Mast Bay by Sail North (absolute legend on YouTube). If you’re into shanties, sea vibes, or just good music, GO LISTEN TO HIM, BESTIES!!!!!🏴‍☠️ Warning: May cause uncontrollable urges to create pirate OCs and cry about the ocean.

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways you disappoint me.

pairing: boyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: The honeymoon phase confirmed it's existence for the second year of dating Miguel. Your love life went from flourishing to one-sided the day Miguel revealed to you that he was Spiderman.

cw: ooc miguel, very angsty, depressive behaviors, alcohol abuse

a/n: I have been on hiatus for a very long time. I've been in a very dark place this past month. I lost a very good friend of mine that I have known since middle school. Which really threw me off track. I have a bunch of works in progress coming out soon. I finally feel like I'm in a mentally okay spot to pick up writing again. This is lowk just word vomit but its something.

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

miguel masterlist | next part

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Disappointment. A feeling you you felt often. Maybe even too often. You were very familiar with disappointment. He only ever came around late at night. Disappointment would wrap his arms around you as if he wasn't the reason why there was a wet spot on your pillowcase almost every night.

All Miguel O'Hara ever does is disappoint you. "So why are you still with him?" your good friend Jess asked over hot morning tea.

"What am I supposed to do without him?" you questioned.

"That's not a very healthy mindset to have. You know that," Jess said putting a firm comforting hand over yours.

You look away for a moment. Eyes trailing out the window of the Spider Society Café that reeked of coffee and broken promises. Miguel O'Hara was married to the barista who would hand him five coffees minimum a day. He chose to marry the barista and work and not his own girlfriend of three years.

As you watched the birds create an arrow in the air flying north over the firey trees below. Part of you wished that you were a bird in this very moment flying away from the problems that devoured your brain from the inside. "You still with me?" Jess asked worriedly.

"Yeah," you sighed turning back to her.

"So you'll talk to Miguel tonight?" Jess commanded. She did that a lot. She would ask a question that sounded like an order which made you feel the need to obey. You simply nodded bringing your mug to your lips and sipping on your now-cold Earl Grey tea.

"Isn't it strange how quickly tea gets cold?" you thought out loud.

"Well that's kind of how tea works hon'," she answered.

. . .

You stopped waiting for Miguel to come home ages ago because you didn't think there was a point in it. Just like how you didn't see the point in trying to talk to him about putting effort into your relationship. In the same way you shouldn't have seen the point in staying with him after your last thousand arguments. You felt your eyelids get heavier with every passing hour you spent staring at the ceiling waiting to hear the door swing open.

Like you summoned him with your mind, you heard the door. The keys. The sigh. And the footsteps. Your heart began to race. Why am I nervous? You asked yourself. You stood up and walked out of your shared room.

Miguel's usual routine was to get home eat the food you prepared for him hours prior, shower, and go to bed. As you walked down the hallway leading to the kitchen, you stopped yourself before turning the corner. Inhale. Exhale. You stepped out into the kitchen and his head shot up immediately. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. That’s new. An apology, from Miguel. You thought to yourself.

"No, no, I was having trouble sleeping," you answered in a quiet voice.

"Everything alright?" he questioned as he scraped the last bit of food on his plate into his mouth.

"Yeah, I've just been thinking," you started.

"About?" he asked urging you to continue.

"Miguel do you still love me?" you blurted out.

"Of course I do," he replied in a fraction of a second. He sounded almost hurt that you had even asked that question.

Moments like these make you forget the status of your relationship. Moments when Miguel would forget that he's supposed to be cold to you. The moments when he allowed himself to let his guard down around you. Those fleeting moments that should have never left your relationship. "Then why don't we spend any time together? I want to be around you Miguel, I don't care if we sit in silence in the most boring place on the planet. I just want to be in your presence," you admitted. He gave you that little hurt expression again.

"I—I've just been busy," he stuttered. Miguel would often do this thing where he would begin to say something and then cut himself off and choose to say something else.

"Miguel, you know you can tell me anything," you insisted.

"I just—can we please not do this right now?" he pleaded.

You gave him a frown. "Can we sleep it off? Talk about it in the morning?" he sighed rubbing his face.

"Will you even be here in the morning?" you ask under your breath.

"I'll see," he said putting a hand on your shoulder as he walked past you into the bathroom. He did it again. He cut off the conversation the moment it got hard for him. Why are we so complicated? You asked yourself as you lay your head on your moist pillow. Will there ever be a night where I don't cry because of him? A night where he doesn't confuse me with his actions?

. . .

That night as you lay in bed with his back faced away from him, you couldn't help but cry. You felt like you were drowning in your tears. Like they were holding you back. You tried to be as quiet as possible. Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. You repeated to yourself.

The only happy thoughts you could think of were of Miguel. Or the Miguel you used to know. The person he used to be before he started using his job as an excuse to neglect you.

Just then when your breathing slowed and you calmed down a bit with tears still streaming down your face. He wrapped his arms around you. He cuddled you from behind. He did that often. When he thought you were asleep. It was almost as if different versions of himself occupied his brain. You liked the one that took the spotlight at night.

The one that would cuddle you. Nuzzle his nose into your hair. The one that would rub your back and. Apologize. To. You.

. . .

Apology fell asleep that night and disappointment woke up at the ass crack of dawn because there was another Spider-verse that needed saving.

You woke up later that morning to the usual chilling feeling of Miguel not being there. You got up stretching your arms as you walked to your kitchen. You made yourself a cup of tea and an omelette, and ate alone, in silence. Thinking. About him. Again.

For the second time this week as if you called for him with your heart, you heard the balcony door slide open and a masked man swing in. He took his mask off and shook his head adjusting his hair. "Good morning," you said with a stupid smile on your face. Why? You couldn't tell. Maybe it was the fact that he was actually here in the morning like he said he would be.

"Good morning. You’re in a good mood," he chuckled.

"Well you're here," you smiled.

Miguel gave you a look. You weren't sure how to feel about it. But it wasn't a bad look. It was nice. Kind of sweet. He prepared a pot of black coffee and talked about his morning in Peni Parker's universe catching a difficult anomaly. For a moment, you could feel little fireflies set off in your stomach seeing him talk about something he was passionate about.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"Just about us and our recent slump, I guess?" you started.

"I'm listening," he hummed as he sipped his coffee.

"I want to spend more time with you Miguel. I want to not argue with you about how much time you spend at work. I want to know what's on your mind. I want to know how you really are and not just how you say you are," you admit. Miguel stayed quiet for a while in thought.

"I don't know what to say to that," he said; his voice cracking a bit.

"You don't have to say anything just—let me be your shelter, please?" you suggested.

. . .

That night Miguel didn't come home. He didn't come in the middle of the night. He didn't come to eat either. He didn't come to wrap his arms around you. And he didn't come to apologize.

. . .

I don't like it when my friends tell me I have a drinking problem. How could it possibly be a problem if it makes me feel better about all the things that rack my brain? Being vulnerable is much easier said than done. Especially, with the girl I love. Of course, I want to tell her things. I want to tell her everything. I want her to know me as well as she knows her hometown. As well as she knows her childhood cat. And as well as she knows how to navigate Pinterest.

But I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll cry and she'll think I'm weak. I'm afraid she'll think I'm unworthy. I know she would never think those things about me. But how could anyone think anything differently if I think that way about myself?

That's why I turn to the friend that won't let me down ever. Endless Modelos. Because I'm so weak that I can't even open up tp my girlfriend. Every time I feel like I am finally ready to tell her what I'm going through, I stop myself because I am afraid.

. . .

To your great surprise, Miguel wasn't there in the morning. Or the next, or even the one after that. By the third you hadn't seen him it was beginning to stress you out. You wondered if he was safe. If he was even still alive. You decided to go to the Spider Society.

After talking with Jess for a while and babysitting Mayday for a bit. You were finally free to go see Miguel in his office. You opened the door and called out to him but the only thing you heard from him was a sniff. Then two. Followed by a third.

"Miguel are you up there?" you asked as you climbed the stairs to his his platform.

"No?" he said in a shaky voice.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. You saw your answer in the form of 10 too many emptied beer bottles on his desk and on the ground.

You rushed towards him discarding your purse on the ground. He brought his hands to his face and he hid. From you. Your heart sank to the lowest pit in your stomach it could reach. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulders and crouched down next to him. "Miguel, talk to me, please?" you whispered.

Nothing.

. . .

The worst way Miguel could ever disappoint you happened. You had imagined it happening in so many other ways but not like that. You never thought of him as the type of man to give up on something so good.

For the last time in your relationship, Miguel O'Hara disappointed you when he told you he wanted to break up.

. . .

next part → All the ways I defy you

[grlsinterrupted]

i hope your requests are open again but if not im so sorry!! but i was wondering if u could do a dallas winston x fem!reader where reader is having problems at home (her parents being shitty yk?) and she is just having a really bad day and shes on the verge of a break down but then dallas calls and says he needs bail but she cant bring herself to be angry or else she’ll finally break so she just agrees and goes to get him but he senses somethings wrong and tries to get her to talk to him and basically just a really really really soft dallas

sorry if thats too much😭❤️

but tysm i luv ur work🫶🏼

love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ࿔*:･ﾟ

you’ve reached your breaking point | dallas winston x fem ! reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

-

it’s insane how much a piece of paper dictates what you can do, what you can’t do, who you can talk to— your entire life, really. though it holds no monetary value, your report card has always seemed to define your self worth, and better yet, served as a constant reminder that you’ll never truly satisfy your parents. no matter how many hours you spent slaving away on your assignments, fighting back the urge to fall asleep right on your desk, your dedication will never be enough.

a thick silence fills the room, the only sound coming from the faint chirping of crickets and the rhythm of your rugged breathing. you’re seated on the corner of your bed, your hands shaking as you grapple onto the edges of your report card. the paper is crinkled, stained with tears and remnants of your mascara smeared across the letter ‘b+.’ the memory of your mother lecturing you about your grades replays in your head like a song you want to unhear. one single letter was enough to spiral you into a loop of madness. suddenly, the silence is broken by a ringing phone. you flinch, reaching over your nightstand to answer it.

you clear your throat, sniffling. “hello?”

a familiar voice huffs out a chuckle behind the phone. it didn’t take you long to realize that this accented tone belonged to none other than your boyfriend, dallas. “hey, doll. y’know how the fuzz are, they’ve been on my ass all week.”

“dal? are you seriously calling me from jail?” your voice is shaky as you bite back your tears, the report card’s weight heavy on your lap. despite how desperately you needed to cry, right now wasn’t the time. you’ve gathered all the composure remaining in you to deal with dallas’ reckless behavior.

“listen, i’m g’na need a couple bucks for bail. you’d do that for me, wouldn’t ya?”

all you can do is sigh. of course he’d called you for bail. even though you wanted to blow up at him over the phone and tell him to pay for his own bail, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him. you were just as troubled as he was, if not, worse— the only difference being that you prioritized your future more than he ever would.

“sure, whatever. i’ll just- i’ll drive there right now. don’t do anything while i’m gone.”

dallas grazes his bloody knuckles against his a bruise on his cheekbone, wincing. somehow, he’d gotten into a fight with a soc while he was walking to buck’s place. granted that you’ve been silent the entire time, he could sense something was wrong with you— the way your eyes have lost that little sparkle in them, the way your head tilted downwards as the two of you walked out of the police station, and most of all, the fact that you didn’t even hug him once he was released.

despite the amount of times dallas has tried to reisist your post-jail hugs, they’re all he looks forward to while he’s stuck in his cell. your hugs blanket him with a sense of security— the kind of security he’s never had. without that subtle gesture, he felt as though a part of him was missing.

“you’ve been awfully quiet.” dallas mutters under his breath, looking down at you.

you shrug, shaking your head. “i never noticed.”

“yeah, but ya know what i notice?” he pockets his hands. “sum’s wrong with ya.”

you can feel your throat begin to close up as you reply. “nothing’s wrong, dal,” your voice begins to tremble as you tell yourself, do not cry in front of your boyfriend. “let’s just go home, now. i’m tired.”

“are ya mad at me for getting into a fight?” he raises a brow, nudging you with his shoulder. “‘cause if you are, he came onto me first.”

something in you snaps, emotions overflowing like a dam bursting. the stray tear that you’ve been fighting to hold back runs down your cheek. you’ve finally reached your limit. “i’m not mad at you for that! well- i am, but i’m just.. i’m stressed, okay?! everyone is stressing me out!”

dallas goes silent for a second, just watching you shatter in front of him. once he replies, his voice immediately softens. “y’know you can talk to me about anythin’, right?”

you gulp, wiping away the tear as you nod.

dallas runs a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his lip almost as if he’s hesitant to say something. he then begins to speak up.

“you forgot somethin’.”

he pulls you into a warm embrace, brushing his fingers through the strands of your hair as you cry into his arms. this time, the hug is offering you that sense of security that dallas yearns for. you’re finally safe in his arms, safe from all of the expectations set on you.

‘love is a gentle thing, your’s is thicker than a velvet ring ..’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

-

[autisticlenaluthor]

Hi, my name is Rory, I’m going to the Eras Tour in Amsterdam on July 5th and if you guys could somehow help me get this to @taylorswift / @taylornation - it would mean so much to me

Three years ago, I went from being perfectly healthy, to watching my body and my health rapidly deteriorate. My entire world got turned upside down— I lost the ability to eat, drink, and even stand for more than a few minutes.

I don't remember much from when I first got sick. But I know I listened to Mr Perfectly Fine on a loop almost every day because it was the only song that could capture how I felt. I've known and loved Taylor's music since I was six-years-old and first heard the album Fearless. i remember the first song I ever heard (love story) like it was yesterday; but somewhere during that time, her music became like therapy for me.

Since 2021, I've been diagnosed with three incurable diseases. two of these are rare, and one is predicted to only get worse with time. I've spent countless days inpatient on the peds floor receiving treatment, tests, and surgeries. And through all of it-- I've leaned heavily on Taylor's music.

My mom bought our Era's tour tickets last summer during the Europe pre-sale. I was in the hospital at the time and immediately told all of my nurses, doctors, dietitians and basically anyone who came into my room, that a year from then, i'd be seeing taylor swift. Whenever I could get out of bed, I was in the playroom with my child life specialists, making friendship bracelets to give out to other Swifties at the show. The thought of going to the Eras Tour singlehandedly kept me going through the hardest time of my life. And it's kept me going ever since.

Months later, I was hospitalized again, right before the release of 1989 TV. I'd been admitted the day after seeing The Eras Tour Movie in theaters (I was in theater 13, row 13!!) and I remember being so relieved that I hadn't had to miss it.

I had become known by most of the nurses as "the Taylor Swift girl” and the night before another procedure, I stayed up until midnight with everyone else so I could listen to 1989 TV. Hearing those songs-- I felt the happiest I'd been in so long. I felt normal again. I was sick and I was alone but I was connected to every other person who'd stayed up with me and that feeling was indescribable.

Taylor gave that to me, and so much more.

Over the course of my journey, I've listened to Sparks Fly to keep me calm while my doctors inserted feeding tubes down my nose. Whenever I have to be put under anesthesia, I have a nurse put her music on shuffle so I can listen to it as I fall asleep. When I had my big surgery in December, the last thing I remember was Bad Blood playing in the OR and saying "this is a funny song to have surgery to".

All of this is to say, Taylor has given me strength and hope during the worst part of my life, and she continues to do so. Her music is truly everything to me and getting to go the the Era's Tour is already a dream come true on it's own. And if it's possible - being able to receive the 22 hat and give Taylor a friendship bracelet would make all of that pain feel worth it. It would mean everything to me.

if you could reblog this and tag @taylorswift and @taylornation I'd appreciate that so much!! thank you to everyone whose read this far, and everyone whose shared this <3

EDIT: I’m going to be in section 119, row 20, seat 11

also if anyone is interested, I included some pics of the mentioned moments below the cut!

seeing the eras tour movie the day before having to be admitted, and then making friendship bracelets for tour in the hospital

the mirrorball is hung in my room for good luck

the bracelets i’d started making in the hospital, right after getting the tickets

and the day of the 1989 TV release - id stayed up until midnight to listen to the album, and then had my anesthesiologist play ‘Style’ for me to play while they put me out for my procedure

[skvaderarts]

The Line.

Holy shit.

This fucking song has me in a death grip. I've been listening to this song on a loop for 3 days now. The line about the goddamn BLANKET?! Exquisite in the worst possible way. Fuck that blanket. That blanket has given me emotional damage and so has this song.

I accidentally found the song through a random AMV that was recommended to me, and it's RUINED MY LIFE. And then I learned the context and it got 100 TIMES WORSE. Every time I hear it it gets worse because I think even deeper about what it means. I could write a thesis paper on this shit at this point down to the key signature and the bpm. "I can't fight this time now"? Why did you have to come for my throat like this? Song's choking me harder than Viktor choked Jayce during that fight. It's perfect. Do you know how many times I've thought that in my life? I hate it. It's too real. I'm so glad for it.

I want to reach through the screen and hug Viktor so hard that his shiny new Hextech spine shatters.

I want to clamber my short butt up onto a step ladder and grab Jayce by his giant goofy but loveable shoulders and shake him and tell him it's okay. But like, talk to your boy. Just saying. Leave the laser hammer at home. You both need each other. And I need you both to be okay.

These people who don't exist have hurt me so bad because I UNDERSTAND. That pain is REAL. I feel it. This song hits me in such a real, personal way, and so do these characters. I feel like this song sat me down and put me through therapy and I came out with deep personal insight and an urge to feel better about myself.

I've been under that blanket. Spent years under it. Sometimes I still am. This song made me want to stand up, shake it off, and burn it. I just never even thought about it that way. Never even thought about that I was under it. Literally or figuratively. I've been under it so long I didn't even know it was there anymore. This song woke me up. It was just what needed in my life right now. The lyrics cut me like a knife and I can't thank them enough because all the best music does.

And I know I'm not alone. You aren't, either.

Fuck The Line. I love it. Best song I've heard in years.

Thank you Twenty One Pilots.

[zerobaselove]

zb1 with a clingy partner

pairing: zb1 x clingy!reader

genre: fluff

warning: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

notes: making myself incredibly soft this afternoon this is hell when is it my turn to be happy and in love

members under the cut!

jiwoong ;

pulling the blanket off of the side of the couch, jiwoong spoke to you in a quiet tone, "are you sleepy?" he asked as he draped the blanket over your intertwined frames. you had found yourself once again curled up into the side of your boyfriend, tangled into his being as your eyes struggled to stay open.

"a little bit," your response was cut off by a yawn, effectively calling you out on the lack of sleep you had gotten the night before. that, partnered with the warmth radiating off of jiwoong's body was too much for your body to resist as you relaxed further into his touch.

he smiled down at you for a moment, "shut your eyes darling, i'll wake you up around dinner time." he rubbed his hand on your arm in a soothing motion, lulling you off to sleep. it wasn't long before your breathing had evened out and your eyes had fluttered shut, and jiwoong couldn't help but swoon.

returning to the page open on his phone, he let his arm aimlessly rub your back, keeping you close as you got some much-needed rest. what would he do without you to keep him warm?

zhang hao ;

being with zhang hao always felt safe; he always liked to keep a hand on you in some way, just to make sure you were always there and accounted for, but as your relationship progressed, so had the lingering hands. what used to be a hand resting on the small of your back or intertwined pinkies had turned into tangled limbs and extra time laying around.

"i never thought you'd be so clingy," zhang hao let his thoughts out as he aimlessly played with your hands. you only hummed in response, thinking back to the beginning of the relationship when skinship had felt foreign to the two of you. despite that only being a few months prior, it felt like something completely unimaginable now. you didn't know what you'd do without the boy attached to your hip.

sensing the silence in the air, zhang hao continued, "it's not a bad thing, i actually really like it," his mumbled on, "it feels safe, you feel safe." you couldn't stop the smile spreading at his confession. so pure and yet vulnerable.

"i could say the same hao, thank you for making me feel safe." you spoke up, taking your eyes off the paintings on the walls, now having your boyfriend in your sight just in time to see the shy smile on his face before he muttered a small, "no need to thank me."

hanbin ;

being with hanbin was new; like a new song that you just couldn't help but endlessly loop and never get sick of. he was your first everything, including the first person you had felt safe enough around to be yourself around, and that meant being clingy with the boy whenever you had the chance.

lucky for you, he was a similar way. you were also his first, and he was ecstatic. he had so much love to give and show you, and to have you fully reciprocate it made his heart swell more than he could believe.

hanbin had just spent the last few hours slaving away over a paper for one of his classes, and for a much deserved break, he decided to relax with you. patting his lap, you shuffled over from the other side of the couch as he pulled you over to straddle him. you couldn't help but lean into his chest and listen to his heart beating louder by the second.

"comfy?" he asked, stroking your hair lightly as he placed a kiss on your temple. "very," you responded, feeling him shiver at the air on his neck from your response, "how's the paper going?"

"long forgotten about," he chuckled, "just wanna talk about you."

matthew ;

you were never sure what people meant when they their home was a person, or a feeling. the idea seemed foreign to you and overall a little confusing, until you found matthew. you had never felt more at home as you did when you were curled up leaned onto him, his arms wrapped tightly around your frame as if you would float away.

"don't you think we should get up?" you questioned, glancing over at the clock on the wall, still not moving an inch from the spot attached to your boyfriend. he followed your line of sight before letting out a small hum, "probably," he said simply, "not gonna though." he squeezed you tighter, tracing shaped on your back.

you let out a small laugh at your boyfriend's response, relaxing further into his touch. you felt safe like this; his arms around you, enveloped in his warmth and the faint scent of his cologne. not worrying about outside stressors or anyone other than the two of you in that moment. you were content.

with your head against his chest, matthew placed small pecks to your temple just to be even closer to you. he wasn't sure when he started to feel so protective over you, but when you were like this he couldn't help it, and e wouldn't have it any other way.

taerae ;

"were you always so clingy or is it just with me?" taerae teased, playing with your hand as you snuggled into his side. he loved seeing you like this, but he just couldn't bite his tongue hen it came to teasing you a little bit. seeing the blush rise to your cheeks was just too tempting of a reward.

you pondered the question for a moment, letting your eyes wander over the boy, "i think it's a you thing," your voice was quiet, almost embarrassed of the effect he had on you, "i can move though." you mumbled, moving your legs off of taerae's and letting them touch the floor.

"hey now," he quickly shook his head as he grabbed your legs, lifting them back into his lap, "i never said i wanted you to move." he smiled down at you, letting a small laugh escape his lips. "just wondered if you were this cute with everyone."

you couldn't turn away fast enough to hide the way your face flushed a deep red, leaving taerae to only smile wider as you attempted to bury your face into his shoulder. "don't say a word." you whined, the sound muffled by his shirt. he only shook his head again, "my lips are sealed."

ricky ;

being in a relationship required some warming up for ricky. he wasn't quite sure how to handle your acts of affection at first, but he had quickly grown accustomed to it, even craving your touch more often than he'd ever admit to, at least directly, but sometimes his actions spoke louder than words.

"why are you sitting so far away?" ricky asked quietly, a small pout decorating his face at the sight of you on the other side of the couch as opposed to your usual spot in his arms. you looked up from your phone to see the boy looking almost dejected and for a moment you just had to admire his unintentionally charming attitude.

"just thought maybe you'd be getting sick of me being attached to you," you let out a dry laugh. you couldn't help but worry sometimes that your difference in expressions of love had become burdensome for him, so you tried to hold back sometimes, and ricky was none too pleased.

in one fell swoop ricky had reached over to hold your waist, lightly dragging you to his side as he readjusted you to be in your usual comfortable position. after a small hum of contentment he turned to you with a shy smile on his face, "i could never get sick of you, baby."

gyuvin ;

you considered yourself a rather clingy person; always wanting to be close to the people you loved and showing them all of your affections. but you were convinced you were no match for gyuvin, though he would disagree, insisting you two were a perfect match. you suppose he was right though, the two of you just suited each other so well, to the point of it almost annoying the people around you.

you and gyuvin found yourselves in the living room watching some movie that had popped up in your recommended. honestly you couldn't care less about what was playing, you'd much rather be paying attention to the boy beside you, and he couldn't keep his eyes, or his hands, off of you either.

playful shared kisses and light touches that made giggles erupt from your chest were gyuvin's personal favourites. opting to pepper kisses on anywhere he could; your cheeks, your hands, your nose, your forehead, your shoulder. all of it. he just couldn't contain his love for you, and luckily for him, you were the exact same way.

"get a room you two!" you heard ricky voice a complaint paired with an overly dramatic fake gag as he walked past into the kitchen, causing the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. "jealousy is a disease, get well soon ricky!" gyuvin teased back, bringing his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh as a barely audible groan came from the kitchen. who could stop young love, right?

gunwook ;

"hi gunwook," you mumbled as you made your way to where gunwook was sitting on the couch. a smile instantly spread to his face as he admired your figure draped in one of his oversized hoodies, reaching his hands out to welcome you into his arms, "hi my shadow."

you couldn't really remember when he had developed that nickname for you, but you knew it was because of how often you liked to be attached to him, following him like a lost puppy, or rather, his shadow. you mumbled a response back as you buried your face into his chest, letting your arms fall on either side of him, aimlessly playing with the hem of his shirt.

he brought his hand up to playfully ruffle your hair as informed you that he actually needed to get up from the spot you had claimed as your own. letting out a small laugh at the whine he got in return he gently moved you off of his lap, "i'll be right back okay?" he held his pinky out to link, reluctantly raising your own and intertwining them in a wordless promise.

and he was right, he had come back a couple moments later with a blanket in his hand, "had to get comfy, right?" he offered, placing the blanket on the side of the couch as you two got comfortable again. he let out a light hum as he draped the blanket over your bodies, mumbling a "better," under his breath before placing a kiss on your temple. nothing but the best for his shadow.

yujin ;

you'd always been a clingy person, it was in your nature. whether it was with friends or people more than that, you often found yourself by their side if they would let you. you just loved being physically close to the people you loved, and yujin was no exception.

in the beginning it took a bit of getting used to for yujin. he wasn't quite sure what to do with the affection from you, or really anyone other than gyuvin, but he'd never ask you to stop, he quickly learned he enjoyed it much more when it was you.

"you know you don't have to baby me," he whined as you draped your arm across his chest, drawing small shapes on his arm. despite the statement, yujin couldn't help but melt into the comforting actions from you, visibly relaxing at the feather light touches on his skin.

"yujin," you let out a playful sigh as you turned to face the boy, "let me love you." a blush dusted across his cheeks almost instantly, as if only then did he consider you'd be doing this just because you wanted to. "oh," he breathed out, a smile quickly spreading across his face, "well okay then."

[pepperonijem]

be here with me || nikolai lantsov

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader Warnings: none Genre: fluff Word count: 788 Summary: it's been a long day, but it's okay because at seven you will be here with me

A/N: inspired by the song 7PM by BSS feat. Peder Elias. there are no thoughts, no lore, no plot. just fluff and nikolai. give the song a listen <3

It wasn’t much of a stretch to say you were tired. The kind of tired that feels like it’s been building up for weeks – sneaking up on you like wavelets against the sand, growing and growing until you find yourself sinking under tsunami tides. 

Rebuilding a kingdom from ashes of a war was no simple task, even for the most seasoned of veterans. Too many things to do and never enough time. Too many people to please and never enough resources. Each day was a paradox, twenty-four hours dragging like molasses out of the mouth of a glass jar while you run on against the stream. Every rise of the moon was a welcome sight to you, a sign that although tomorrow would be its own battle, for a few hours you could enjoy the pale glow of the moon. 

Tonight, however, instead of retreating to your private rooms to enjoy time alone with your lover, you found yourself longing to be outside of the palace walls. You send a courier to deliver a message to the king, a short message of  “meet me at the river,” and make your way to the quiet banks of the indigo waters to wait for him. It doesn’t take long for him to find you – it never does – and with the sound of grass breaking, you feel warm arms wrap around you from behind. 

You don’t turn around until he calls your name — not the name used by the people to address you but rather the one kept secret for moments like this. “My love,” the dulcet tones of his voice harmonizing with the crickets and the river waters. You can tell he’s smiling as he calls for you, as he always does, and when you turn around it feels like falling into starlight. His disheveled hair after a day of frustrated ticks is ever so golden, glowing in the white light of the moon and his blue eyes catch the broken reflection of light against the water. It happens quicker than instinct that you reach a hand to rest against his cheek and for Nikolai to release a soft puff of air, as if only now can he finally find rest. 

“Come sit with me, darling,” you beckon to him and he quickly complies. He gently pries your hand from his cheek, opting instead to hold it in his as he fills the space beside you, close enough to feel your thighs touching and you loop your arm through his to fit yourself to lay in against his shoulder. This is home, you think to yourself. 

It isn’t long before the quietness is filled with stories about the day. Although you had spent most of the day in your husband’s company, it was never enough, with only fleeting glances across meeting tables and secret smiles shared in passing. In the daylight, he was Nikolai Lantsov, the people’s King of Ravka. But here with you… he was your Nikolai, dearest. Although your relationship was well-known among the people, it was moments like this that you indulged in like a delicious secret between the two of you. Once the silence comes to find its way between the two of you once again, Nikolai turns his head to press a kiss against the crown of your head. 

“What’s that for?” you lift your head up to smile at him. He shakes his head bashfully before giving you a soft smile and bringing your entwined hands to his lips.

“I just missed you,” he replies sincerely, his free hand coming up to push a hair back from your face pointlessly as a chilling breeze sweeps it back out of place. You let out a chuckle as Nikolai sighs in exasperation with a pout. However, when he notices the slightest shake of your shoulders in a shiver, he immediately stands and extends his hand out to help you up. “Come? Before the winds turn icy.”  

With a laugh, you slip your hand in his, leaning against his shoulder as he tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow. “Is the fearless king afraid of the cold?” You look to see him roll his eyes as he pulls you closer into his side.

“Never,” he replies with a scoff. “But I’d rather like to feel my wife’s skin under my fingers, and I can’t do that when they’re frozen numb.” As if to prove his point, he wiggles his fingers before poking you in the side teasingly. 

To his defense, you completely agree. But more than that, it didn’t matter where you were together, so long as you were together. Come storm or high hell, Nikolai was always your resting place as you were his.

[nct-krown]

‘ 𝙷𝙾𝚆 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝙰 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙸𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝙰𝙽𝙸𝚃𝚈? ’

PLOT hyunjin and jade were stuck in a vicious cycle that trapped the in a house of glass. until everything finally shatters around them

CHARACTERS hwang hyunjin ˒ jade-bella li ˒ gina liu

mention of mimi ( @inter-stellar-jyp ) & haechan of nct

WORD COUNT 2.1k

GENRE straight up angst

a/n this is entirely from hyunjin’s pov to try explore their dynamic in a way that would better highlight jades toxic and borderline abusive nature.

TW/ contains slight violence and abusive language. heavily explores toxic relationships. please proceed with caution.

[ nov ‘21 ]

being around jade was draining.

hyunjin knew that that’s not what a good boyfriend would say when talking about spending time with the person they’re in love with , but it was true. he always felt absolutely drained of life when he was around her for too long.

without fail any genuinely romantic and heartfelt moment they’d had was ruined before he could even bask in the warmth of it. and 9 times out of 10 it wasnt hyunjin ruining the mood, it was jade and she was at it again. all it took was a notification to set her off as if they hadn’t just been staring into each others eyes whispering how they loved each other more than words could describe. as soon as he felt the shift in her mood he found himself compulsively opening his phone to check the time or for a text from the members- the only messages she’d accept - that would force him to leave early.

hyunjin knew what they had wasn’t what love was supposed to feel like. when they were good it felt leven better than any love song could describe but when they were bad they were cataclysmic. and so he still found himself dreading the time he got to spend with her. he knew that the way that they fought wasn’t healthy, it took him an embarrassingly long time to actually acknowledge that. the fact that they spent most nights fighting and fucking, was not normal. he knew because they weren’t always like this. but he had come to accept that that was how they were. and he just needed to adapt to jade and tread lightly. but that wasn’t okay … and he was starting to go crazy.

he was living in a loop, arguing about the same thing over and over with the same points and same reactions every time. how many times could one person live the same scenario before it was considered insanity.

“are you just gonna sit there and stare at me hyunjin? who is mimi and why is she checking if you’re still coming?” jade snapped her fingers in his face, breaking him out of the daze he’d fallen into. his frustration threatened to fade as he looked over her again. her face was pretty as always but the scowl on it seeped with venom. that was what had his heart steadying. despite her beautiful eyes staring holes into his own he couldn’t live this insane cycle anymore.

“like i keep saying, mimi is just another idol at jyp.we hardly fucking speak ,” he spoke softly as he ran his hand through his long black hair. hyunjin genuinely felt like he was losing his mind. he was reliving the same moment over and over again with different girls he knew being thrown in each time.

this was nothing new for them. jade was constantly complaining about every minute thing hyunjin would do.honestly speaking hyunjin never actually did anything, it was always what jade thought he’d done. her conscience was constantly filling in blanks in a way that always made hyunjin look like a cheater and without fail he always disproved them. he would never do to her what she did to him.

there was even a time jade had tried to end his lifelong friendship with heeyoung over her sensing “bad vibes” and that had been almost 2 years ago. she did not care to listen to how she was the closest thing he’d had to a sibling. she hated heeyoung from the moment she met her and still did. heeyoung may have had a crush on him but they tried and never went beyond an awkward and awful kiss that no one even remembered. she refused to believe him and so she had become a forbidden topic. 2 years …they had been living this was for 2 whole fucking years.

“clearly you fucking do she called your fucking phone. do you think i’m stupid?”

hyunjin threw his face in his hands as he mumbled, “oh my god jade.” he groaned softly , throwing his head back. he just wanted to return to their comfortable cuddles, “can we not do this today? just come back to the bed.” he pleaded but jade was unfazed by his words.

“we’re only here because of you hyunjin. all you do is be disrespectful then get upset when i rightfully fucking call you out!”

hyunjin closed his eyes for a while before opening them slowly , “disrespectful? organizing to practice for my job is disrespectful?” his words came out more condescending than he intended and he knew how she would react.

“you’re actually so dumb hyunjin. why the fuck is it okay that mimi can call you at 8 fucking pm.”

he hated when she called him stupid or dumb and she knew that. he hated how she always undermined his intelligence despite him constantly achieving well in school. she would call him names whenever he upset her and it hurt him in a way he couldn’t move on from. someone who loved you would never say that.

“answer my fucking question hyunjin.” jade’s voice raised slightly , it was the type of detail only he could pick up on. she was about to lose it. and no matter how fed up he would get with jade seeing her so worked up never made him feel good.

jade let out a loud dramatic huff as she rolled her eyes, “so what you have nothing to say?”

“no jade i don’t!” he stared blankly at her. “she just wanted to talk about practice. what do you want me to do she’s my fucking colleague i can’t ignore her.” he stressed the word colleague growing unbearably irritated the longer they spoke.

jade folded her arms across her chest pressing against her boobs and making them pop out slightly. he didn’t mean to focus on them but jade always looked sexy when she was mad. which explained why these fights ended the way that they did. right now he hated that she was so hot. “if that’s true why the fuck does she have your number. colleagues don’t need your number.”

“how else is she supposed to contact me for practice.” he stressed the last word, unable to understand how she was reacting the way she was when the answer was so obvious. “jade have you not done a collab stage? you know what i’m talking about for fucks sake.” he’d given up on his usual calm approach. his exasperation was so obvious and jade hated when she could not bend conversations the way she wanted them to.

jade clicked her tongue as a response to the sass in his tone. “yeah and our staff organized it. it’s weird that you have her number hyunjin.”

hyunjin had grown tired of trying to de-escalate the situation. it was hard to not jab back when she was purposely pressing all of his buttons. she was purposely trying to break him the way she always did. convince him she was the only thing that made him worth anything but there’s only so much breaking he could take before shattering.

“oh ?me having my co workers number is weird?”

jade nodded her head dramatically as if to say ‘duh without words. that was enough to stop him from holding back. he was done.

“but you still having hyuck’s fucking number in your phone is totally normal right jade!”

the flood gates had opened.

the silence that followed was as loud and frightening as a clap of thunder.

jade rolled her eyes. “we’re in the same fucking group hyuni. ” she placed her hand on her hip as she stared down at him he sat on her bed. despite her affectionate name for him she was clearly trying to intimidate him with her stare. making him feel below her. “he’s actually my co worker. you bring this up every fucking time.”

hyunjin groaned loudly as he threw his arms up,“yeah jade cause you fucking cheated on me!” he yelled, feeling all his emotions overwhelm him once again.

jades jaw dropped as her eyes narrowed. trying to recover to not show him how his defiance had thrown her off she quickly clenched her jaw as her body tensed in a way only hyunjin would notice. and he always did. she was in defense mode.

“oh my god it was months ago, get over it”

it was now hyunjin’s turn for his jaw to drop. trying his best to keep his voice level he let out a long sigh as he got up from the bed. it groaned at the loss of weight on top of it.

“get over it?” he questioned quietly as he approached jade towering over her. he knew that their height gap- although usually adorable- was intimidating. it was clear that the atmosphere had shifted, their anger heightened as well as their mutual sexual attraction. jade saw the opportunity to wrap him back in her web and took it.

she softly placed her hands on his chest and attempted to shove him as it was a joke but he knew her true intentions. he barely moved. she tried 3 times following that. this time she could barely hide her anger. she quickly reset as she batted her eyelashes the way that always made his knees buckle. with a sultry smirk she stepped closer to him, “get the fuck over it!” she punctuated each word with a stab into his chest with her freshly manicured finger. she smiled sweetly as if she hadn’t just screamed the most disgusting words in his face.hyunjin wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off of jade’s face. how dare she.

the eye contact they held was intense. everything about them was intense. from their love to their sex and clearly to their fights. and neither of them could deny the sexual tension that bubbled between them but that day hyunjin refused to cave like he always did.

“hyuni…” she drawled out his nickname as she alluringly grabbed him by the pocket of his hoodie. she looked up at him with her signature sweet doe eyes. he was not going to fold even if the feeling of her right hand gently touching his cheek had the strings of his chest tug in the way that always reminded him that he loved her. he subconsciously leaned into her, their lips a whisper apart before she spoke.

“we can’t dwell on that forever…”

and just like that any sweetness he felt dissipated into thin air. he pulled his head away from her face so fast it caught the small girl by surprise. hyunjin shook his head as he gently removed her from his body. he can’t let the familiarity of their cycle trick him into staying again. it was taking away pieces of him and he had to do something about it.

without another word hyunjin grabbed his gym bag that he’d thrown carelessly on the floor when he entered. “what are you doing?” jade questioned as she watched him gather his belongings. “hello?” she attempted to gain his attention once again clapping loudly between the syllables of the word .

hyunjin refused to answer because he knew how this would end. she’d sweet talk him with her usual ‘i love you so much you make me crazy” and her intoxicating kisses making him ignore everything in an attempt to cling onto the glimmer of hope that they were still in love. it would end with him having to cancel on mimi and just to inevitably fight once again over whatever other tiny thing she’d nit pick at. and at the end of it all they’d make up after a round of life changing sex leaving hyunjin questioning everything .

he paused with his hand on her room door handle. his mind couldn’t help but run wild with all the images of him turning back to her and kissing her at the crown of her head as she wrapped her arms around him , eyes teary as she softly kissed him.before he could overthink it anymore, hyunjin swung open her room door not bothering to look back at her but by the sound of feet pattering behind him he knew she was following him.

“the silent treatment? really hyunjin? are we fucking 12?” she yelled as she followed him through her dorm not caring to be discreet. she was never one to care about on lookers often loving the spectacle of it all. there had been multiple occasions where she’d have outbursts with hyunjin always begging her to go somewhere private but it never worked. they were that couple.

hyunjin could hear doors opening as he paced towards the corridor. as he reached for the back door that he usually took to not be seen by any staff jade firmly gripped his wrist.

“if you walk out that door hyunjin i swear to god…” she warned between clenched teeth as her grip tighter, her stilleto nails digging into his skin, leaving deep dents and grooves behind.

“or what jade?” he sighed looking at her with a blank face. her face was red with anger, imaginary smoke coming out from her ears like a cartoon. yet she still looked so beautifully captivating. he wanted to look at her longer but he couldn’t be spellbound once again.

jade let out an angry huff out of her nose , “you’d be fucking stupid.” she spat the words in his face, his lack of reaction only worsened her already overwhelming anger.

he hated when she called him stupid. she knew that. hyunjin was a firm believer of love being worth fighting for , hence why him and jade had come to so many loud plate smashing blows yet he stayed. you have to fight for things that matter. but jade knew the words that hurt the most and constantly berated him with them. surely someone that loved you wouldn’t purposely try to hurt you… right?

hyunjin yanked his wrist out of her tight and lethal hold before staring directly into her sparkling eyes.

“guess i’m fucking stupid then.”

with that he swung the door open as jade screamed in frustration. “hwang hyunjin get back here right now! oh my god hyunjin! where the fuck are you even going?” her words came out muddled as her anger consumed her.

hyunjin said the sentence he knew would sting the most right now. she needed to hurt the way she constantly made him hurt. “i’m going practice with mimi.” he said calmly, not looking back as he descended down the staircase.

jade didn’t say anything but hyunjin could hear her incoherent yelling. before he could process anything hyunjin heard the sound of shattering glass giving him a fright and making him spin around faster than what felt humanly possible. his eyes focused on the stream of water that cascaded down the stairs like a tiny waterfall. jade had thrown the vase that held flowers he’d gotten for her down the stairs as she glared at him. he could tell she was crying by the way her eyes shone. the streaks down her cheeks were barely noticeable but he could see them as if they were highlighted.

hyunjin felt his heart shatter so loud he felt it ring in his ears. the flowers scatter around with shards of stained glass that he painted like the sunset. some shards landing right in front of his new converse sneakers. he felt the familiar sting in his eyes as he continued to just stare at the scene happening in front of him. did she mean to throw the base down the stairs because she didn’t care about his attempts at trying to bring them back to their old selves ? … or was she aiming at him and missed. either way he felt a sob get stuck in his throat but he swallowed it down. she couldn’t know she hurt him. that’s exactly what she wanted.

how could something that feels so perfect simultaneously feel like the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

he hadn’t even noticed how long they stood there just staring at each other until he faintly heard gina’s voice from within the dorm. “jade is everything okay?”

“perfect. she spat the words out with so much venom that hyunjin felt his skin burn just at the sound of them. hyujin nodded as he watched her slam the door shut leaving him alone in the stairwell of water, shattered glass and peonies. he felt as if any light inside him had vanished, leaving him just as dim as the light above him illuminating the dark stairwell. he was drained.

jade drained everything out of him.

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.1

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which you pack your bags for paris, still unsure of whether or not you’ll return to london for anything other than the rest of your belongings, and anakin is forced to reach out to liz after she crosses another line.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.2k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ���

Guilt had followed Anakin all week.

He talked to you for a good hour over the phone on Wednesday, and not once did he mention the fact that Liz had kissed him. He knew the longer he kept it from you, the worse it’ll be for him, but he was terrified of your reaction. 

Anakin had been faithful for nearly five years straight, and the one time he’s away from you for more than a few days he lets another girl get close to him. Close enough for him to break that streak in a single night. 

He knew that as soon as he told you, it could very well be over, and he never wanted to lose you, let alone because of something so out of character for him. 

Still, it wasn’t fair for you to be kept out of the loop, and though he hated to do it, he’d rather tell you in person. He could only hope that you saw it from his perspective, and how hard he’s been trying to get rid of her. 

Anakin was sitting on the couch, the passing scenery doing wonders at keeping his mind busy. He wanted to call you, but you told him that you needed to sort some things out today, and he’d just have to wait until you were able to talk. 

He had headphones on with the track Vinny and Theo had recorded during all the time Anakin spent with Liz, and he felt like the worst excuse of a friend and band member ever. 

They were actually trying to get music out while he just went out and partied. But he wouldn’t be doing that anymore. 

If one good thing came out of that whole club situation and the wake up call, it was that Anakin was finally inspired to write. Theo had come up with the idea to create a slower song rather than the loud and intense songs they’ve been playing for the last year and a half. He was sure it was because the bass player was feeling down a lot lately and needed a way to vent, and Anakin and Vinny were more than willing to agree to it. 

He listened to the track on repeat as he thought about possible lyrics, and Anakin was happy that Vinny had decided to try his luck with a piano. He played it for about four years before he switched to drums, but he clearly still knew how to play the string instrument as it sounded amazing through his headphones. 

Before long, he had a whole page done and was starting his second when Vinny emerged from the back of the bus. His hair was a mess, signaling to Anakin that he had just woken up from a nap. 

Anakin could probably use a few more hours of sleep, too, but he knew it would never come. He’d just end up tossing and turning and wasting time, so he didn’t even bother. 

Vinny sat down next to him with a huff, taking the notebook out of Anakin’s hands as he did so. Anakin scoffed at him, taking off his headphones and setting them aside as he turned to face his friend. “Is this for a new song?” Vinny asked with a yawn as he read over the page.

“Yeah,” Anakin answered, grabbing his phone and sending you a quick text. 

Vinny set the notebook aside after reading it over. “Sounds good,” he mumbled. “Glad to see you got your inspiration back.”

“Yeah, but at what cost,” Anakin muttered.

“Anakin, Y/n will understand,” he tried to reassure him, but probably knew that it was pointless as Anakin would continue to feel like shit until he knew for sure that he wouldn’t lose you because of the mistake he made with Liz.

So when he didn’t respond, Vinny just shook his head and stood back up. He rummaged around in the mini fridge before grabbing two water bottles and heading back to Clara, leaving Anakin to finish up the song he had titled ‘Falling’.

-

“I feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time,” you confessed as you sat on the grass in the Quad. “I completely messed up that last assignment. I didn’t even try.” 

Evan gave you a pointed look as he sipped from the straw of his smoothie. “You’re not wasting everyone’s time, Y/n,” he stated, making you roll your eyes. “I’m serious. Kenneth would’ve sent you running on the first day if he thought you were wasting his time.”

You shrug and look at different flights on your phone. “Maybe, but I still accused him of favoring me when he was literally just trying to be nice,” 

“Y/n,” Evan called out to you, making you look up. “You’re a good writer. You’re one of the best in the class, don’t think that you’re not. One bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, you know that.”

You shrug again, sipping on your own smoothie. “Yeah, I guess,” 

Evan set down his drink and moved closer to you. “I mean it. You’re going places…if you decide to stay, that is. While it’ll certainly give me a better chance at getting published, it’ll still suck to lose you. But if you’re no longer happy here, then you deserve to do something that does make you happy.”

You give him a smile and lean over to hug him quickly. “Thanks, Ev,” 

He returned the hug before standing up. “Are you coming to class today?” 

You think about it for a few seconds then shake your head. “No, I have some thinking to do,”

He nods and gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay, I’ll just see you later then,”

You nod back and watch as he makes his way to the building the class is in before pulling out your phone. 

Ani: I hope you’re having a better day today, baby. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I love you. 

The text brings a smile to your lips as you stand up and throw away your garbage as you reply to him.

So far so good. I can’t wait to see you, too, Ani. I love YOU.

You head in the opposite direction of your class, planning on going back to your room and packing your bag for Paris. Maybe you’d even start packing up to go back home. While Evan’s attempts at reassuring you were nice, you still didn’t feel confident in yourself anymore. 

Anakin had even tried to reassure you, but he also said that you didn’t have to force yourself to stay if it wasn’t what you wanted anymore, and to have that support from him had your head feeling clearer than it had in weeks. 

If all else failed, you still always had him, and that was enough for you to know that you’d be okay. 

You pack the essentials and set your bag down next to your desk before sitting down on your bed. Grabbing your phone, you begin to look through more flight options. There was one for three in the afternoon, meaning you’d be able to be in Paris by five thirty at the latest. You’d have to swing by class tomorrow to talk to Kenneth, and to possibly say goodbye to him. 

You really weren’t sure if you were going to come back for anything other than the rest of your belongings once Anakin and the guys leave France and you’d have to say goodbye again. Maybe you could just pack the rest of your things and meet him at the next location. You wouldn’t mind sharing that small bunk with him for the next two months, and you knew he wouldn’t mind either. 

Without another thought, you buy the ticket and set your phone down, pulling out your laptop and continuing to write the rough draft of your short story, despite your plans potentially dropping the class.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and before you knew it, it was the next morning and you were packing last minute things and making sure you had your ticket ready. You set everything on your bed, excitement pulsing through you at the fact that you’d be seeing Anakin in less than nine hours.

His text had you feeling the happiest you’ve been all week, and you had shamelessly read it more than once. 

Ani: I can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve missed you so much, princess.

He was the sweetest, and you were shaking with nerves at the thought of feeling his arms around you again after four weeks of zero physical contact.

You leave your dorm and make your way to class, well aware that it had ended at nine and it was now nearing ten. With a quick inhale, you enter the classroom and meet Kenneth’s eyes from across the room. He was sitting at his desk, his brow furrowed as he looked back down at the papers he was reading. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted in a monotone voice. “Glad to see you could make it to class today, though you are an hour late and the class is already over.”

Giving him a forced and embarrassed smile, you step into the room. “Yeah,” you trail off, playing with your fingers as you stand by the door. “I’m sorry I missed the last two classes, it’s just….I don’t know if I’m cut out for this.”

Kenneth didn’t look up from the papers as he said, “Well, you’ve certainly done a great job at trying to prove that,” 

Your face heats up and you look at the floor. “Yeah…I’m really sorry, Kenneth,” you murmur, glancing down at the A on your wrist. You feel the smallest bit of comfort from just looking at it, and you lift your head with a newfound confidence. “I didn’t mean to waste your time. That was the last thing I wanted to do.” 

That had your instructor looking up at you. He studied your face for a few seconds before sitting up in his chair. “You didn’t waste my time, Miss Y/l/n,” he stated. “In fact, I quite enjoyed reading your previous pieces, so I don’t know why you think you wasted anyone’s time.”

You shrug at him and avoid eye contact. You just needed to get through this, then you could go to the airport and be with Anakin again after a month of not seeing him. 

“I assume you came here to tell me that you’re dropping out?” Kenneth asks and you look over at him.

“Do you think I should?” You ask.

“That’s not up to me,” he says. “It’s your choice.”

You huff, “Do you think I’m…..good enough?”

Kenneth raises his brows. “Do I think you’re good enough?” He repeated your question and leaned back. “I think you’re a great writer, Miss Y/l/n, and it would be  unfortunate to lose you before I got to really see what you can do. But, it’s your decision, and I can’t make it for you.”

You give him a small smile and nod. “Right. I guess that’s a good answer,” 

He returns the smile before asking, “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m….my boyfriend is performing at a few venues in Paris, so I’m going to meet him there,” you tell him. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be missing a few classes next week.”

Kenneth nods. “It might be best for you to take some time to figure out what you want to do,” he says. “If you decide to stay, there’s always a spot for you in my class, but if you want to go then I can’t stop you. But just know that one bad piece doesn’t make you a bad writer, and you shouldn’t let it have that much control over you.”

Your smile fades a bit at how similar his and Evan’s words are. Maybe they were right. “I’m trying,”

He shrugged, “That’s all you can do,” 

A few seconds pass before you nod. “Well, I should get going. I don’t want to be rushing to the airport,” 

“Before you go,” he called out to you just as you began to turn around. “I want you to know that, whatever you decide to do, I support you.”

That had a genuine smile forming on your lips. “Thank you, Kenneth, and I’m sorry for…everything,”

Then you were off. You headed back to your room to grab your bag, finding Evan leaning against the wall next to your door. Your look of surprise had him raising his brows, “What, you thought I was gonna let you leave without saying goodbye to me first? Especially since I might never see you again after this?”

You laugh and walk into his open arms. “I haven’t decided if I’m dropping the class or not, Ev,” you say and rest your head against his chest. “And I’d say goodbye to you before I left, anyway.” 

“How generous,” he teased and pulled away. His eyes flickered all over your face before he met your gaze. “Have fun, okay? Go spend time with your famous boyfriend, and don’t worry about anything else, alright? You deserve it.”

You smile and nod, “Okay,” you agree. “I’ll see you next week, Evan. Promise.”

He squinted his eyes at you. “You better,” he said back, giving you another smile before leaving. You grab your bag and look around your room one last time before setting down the note you had written to Bailey. She was still at her parents house since there was some family emergency, and you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to her. 

You leave it on her bed before locking the door and ordering a ride to the airport, the stress of everything finally beginning to lift once you’re seated on the plane. 

-

Anakin could not stop pacing the length of the small hallway on the bus. 

He was shaking, he was so excited to see you. 

He couldn’t think about much else other than your sweet scent, your kind smile, your achingly pretty face, and the way your body fit perfectly against his own. He was craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He couldn’t believe he had gone a month without you.

Vinny was watching him with a tired expression, his arm draped over Clara’s shoulders as she slept next to him on the couch. “Dude,” he grunted after watching him pace a few more times. “What are you doing? Why are you pacing?”

Anakin flexed his fingers as he shrugged, passing by the brunet once again. “I can’t help it,” he answered. “I have to leave in less than half an hour to pick her up and bring her back here. Half an hour, Vin, then she’s here.”

Vinny let out a laugh of disbelief, glancing down at his sleeping girlfriend. “I hope she’s this excited to see me at some point in the future,” he muttered to himself as Anakin tried to calm himself down. 

“I missed her so much, Vin,”

“I know,”

“I can’t wait to see her,”

“I know, Anakin,”

“Please tell me that you and Clara are doing something tonight,” Anakin was powerless to stop the desperation from coming through in his voice.

Vinny smirked up at him, “Is that your way of asking if the bus will be empty tonight?”

“I need to be alone with her,” Anakin groaned. “I need it to be just the two of us, so we can talk. I need to clear a few things up with her.”

Vinny laughed. “I understand, man,” he said. “I’ll take Clara out for dinner or something and we’ll tour the Paris nightlife.”

Anakin gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you,” then he checked his phone and nearly dropped it when he saw Liz’s newest Instagram post. “Fuck.”

It was a close up picture of Anakin on stage a couple nights ago, his hair damp and his skin sweaty as he finished the last song of the set. He remembered feeling the high of that night, and he would’ve been happy to see that Liz had captured a photo of it, but right now all he felt was rage as he read the caption. 

elizaphotography: Thought you’d all enjoy a hot, up close and personal shot of the sexy lead singer of Screaming Whispers ;) 

She added a bunch of stupid hashtags and even tagged him, and Anakin wanted to throw his phone at the nearest wall. Vinny must’ve sensed the sudden change as he sat up a bit and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“She- I can’t fucking believe her,”

Vinny reached forward and grabbed his phone, his gaze hardening once he saw the post. “Wow, this bitch won’t quit,” he muttered, reading the caption over and over again. “She must think she’s invincible or some shit, because- what are you doing?”

Anakin had swiped his phone out of Vinny’s hand and clicked on Liz’s contact as he left the bus, hoping that the air would cool him off at least a little. It rang for a few seconds before the call connected, “Ah, I knew that would get your attention,”

“Back off, Liz,” Anakin rasped, leaning against the side of the bus as he felt his heartbeat quicken. “I mean it.”

“You’ve been avoiding me like the plague, Anakin,” she stated. “You’re acting like a prick. I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong,” he said and tried to take back control of his breathing. “Change that caption, or better yet, delete the entire fucking post.”

Liz hummed, “Thought I was allowed to post you? In fact, it’s on the contract that I get your image out there for the world to see,” she laughed. “Well, it says something like that, anyway.”

“I’m not joking, Liz,” he muttered under his breath, and her annoying voice had his body heating up in rage.

“I’m not joking either, Anakin,” she said back. “You led me on. I can claim that. Don’t piss me off, Anakin, or I’ll tell Y/n myself that you cheated on her.”

“I didn’t-”

“But you did,” she cut him off. “I’m living proof.”

“What do you want, Liz? Huh?” Anakin asked in frustration as he tugged on his hair. “Why do you insist on being such a-”

“A what, Anakin? What?” She pressed. “Call me anything other than my name, and I’ll message her right now.”

Anakin bit his tongue, holding back on calling her every bad name he could think of, because it really wouldn’t help much at all. “Keep her out of this,” he said as calmly as he could. He didn’t like her holding you over him like this when she had no fucking clue about anything involving yours and his relationship. She was just the fucking tour photographer, why did she think she had such an important role in his life? 

“Yeah,” she hummed. “Maybe I’ll do that.” 

Then she hung up and Anakin cursed under his breath as he opened the Instagram app. He deleted all the photos she took of him from his account, wanting nothing to do with her at all anymore. Sure, the photos were great and he actually liked them quite a lot, but he refused to be associated with her in any way. 

Before he got off the app, he clicked on Liz’s account and saw that she did actually change the caption, but it still didn’t settle the anger brewing within him. Without a second thought, he blocked her and pocketed his phone after calling a ride that would take him to the airport and to you.

-

They reunite soon :') (but is that a good thing?)

[aliciaihmansblog]

Melody from the Heart

have not written fanfic in a long while :') but Danny has my heart in an iron-grip

Danny (Evil Dead Rise) x fem!reader

Warnings: PURE FLUFF; swearing

Both are 21 and in college at a state university

Events in the film did not happen

Word count = 625 words

==============================================

It was a cozy late afternoon. Orange light from the sky was bleeding in from the windows, showering the room in soft hues. Right after class, Danny invited you to join in for a family dinner with his mom, Ellie, and sisters, Kassie and Bridget. Danny is at his mixing desk composing new beats for an upcoming gig at a nearby bar this weekend. Just another way to earn money, he says.

You would always tag along in his gigs, even though it ended at ungodly hours in the morning. Sometimes, it happens on class days, leaving you scrambling to catch your 8AM class, functioning on only two hours of sleep. It was well worth it. You love listening to his music, and the vibe he exudes when onstage is unmatched, a little smirk playing on his lips. He just looks so good up there.

He also looks good now with a look of concentration as he arranges the notes to his desired beats and melodies. Most afternoons are spent like this: you relaxing on his bed, either reading a book or catching up on schoolwork, and him over his turntable, head bobbing and body moving to the beat or brows furrowed in frustration because the sound doesn’t sound right.

He likes to keep his music a surprise from you. But, he also enjoys listening to his music from the speakers to get the feel of it reverberating throughout the room, even though, you both wanted to spend time together just relaxing in the same space. No need for words, just being in each other’s presence. So, you compromised. You owned a good pair of noise-canceling headphones and spent the whole afternoon on his bed while he worked in the background. Problem solved. You can’t hear a peep from his works.

Sometimes, you catch each other’s eyes and just smile at each other, then resume working again. It’s your own system, and it works.

Fuck. I am so in love with this guy.

You felt a soft tap on your shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” You smile.

“I want to show you something.” Mesmerized by Danny’s soft smile, butterflies started fluttering within your chest. Your relationship has been ongoing for a little over a year now. Still, your feelings go into overdrive whenever he shows you that damned smile.

“Okay.” Taking his hand, you let him lead you to a comfy chair beside his set-up.

“I– I really hope you like it.” His hands fidget on his shirt. You take his hand.

“Danny, I’m telling you now, whatever it is. I will absolutely love it.”

The song played was soft and sweet, with an intermingling sound from a piano and guitar. You recognized the lyrics were reminiscing your story together, all that happened within the past year of your relationship. His own love letter to you: one that replied to the feelings you poured onto your own letter when you confessed. You sat there, eyes misty with tears, as the song ended. Danny looked at you, and all you could reply was a soft kiss on his lips, heart swelling with overflowing love for this man.

“That was perfect. Thank you.”

“I realized I never gave you a reply from last time.” Danny sheepishly said. Your eyebrow rose, arms enveloping his waist.

“Baby, I didn’t need one; what we have going is enough of a reply. I love you and your family. And we practically live together if we ignore all of Bridget’s eye-rolling and Kassie’s teasing. But thank you for the song. I really appreciate it.”

“I love you, too.” His soft smile again.

He leaned in for a kiss, and you gladly reciprocated. Both of you softly sway to your song, looping in the background.

==============================================

Comments and reblogs welcome!

[coltprofeshseavers]

Here’s a small one shot I wrote as I was on a drive in the rain listening to Charli xcx while thinking about Colt Seavers in The Fall Guy. Listen to the song Everything is Romantic

No warnings - just pure fluff.

Everything is Romantic

Bad tattoos on leather-tanned skin

Jesus Christ on a plastic sign

Fall in love again and again

Winding roads, doing manual drive

Bad tattoos on leather-tanned skin

Jesus Christ on a plastic sign, mm

Early nights in white sheets with lace curtains

Capri in the distance

Colt and Jody are finally on the beach vacation they spoke about on a buzzing walkie talkie around two years ago. A holiday that Colt had dreamt about, drinking spicy margaritas on a beach in their swimming costumes as she called it, laying on the soft sand for hours with no stunts to perform, no cameras to operate. It was finally a reality and Colt couldn’t get enough of it.

This wasn’t planned but Colt surprised Jody and insisted that the only way he would recover is on a beach in Capri, sipping margaritas and chilling down to Taylor Swift, with Jody in his arms this time.

So here they are, in a quaint little hotel room on the Italian coastline. Jody is reading a book in the balcony from where she can see the blues of the water. Colt is getting his much-deserved rest after all the drama that unfolded.

She’s engrossed in her book when she hears his sleepy morning voice calling her, “Jods, where’d you go?”

He’s a vision — lying tangled in the pristine white sheets — the faint sun from the French style windows making his tanned skin glow afresh. She pulls the curtains as she smiles and walks to the bed, “Hi” she whispers as bends down to ruffle his fading blonde hair, softer to touch than they look.

He’s in a haze but can’t help the grin that catches his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners at her touch. “I’ve missed you” he says.

“I’ve just been out reading for 30 minutes Colt, I was there the entire night even when you were snoring in my ear.”

“That’s way too long Jods, you know I gotta hold you or my brain stops functioning“ he smirks.

“Well we can’t have that can we now?” she animatedly says, as she climbs into the bed next to him. Her head on his chest, his arm around her waist, just the way it was meant to be.

Colt falls into slumber again as Jody runs her hands through his hair, golden in the sunlight now peeking from the white lace curtains.

In a place that can make you change

Fall in love again and again

Colt drives through the coastal roads of Capri, Jody in the passenger seat laughing about something he just said and also years ago when they met, when they fell in love. Jody realises falling in love with Colt wasn’t something that happened in a particular moment, it was every minute and day that she spent with him. She learns that falling in love with Colt is a bit like breathing, it keeps on happening and it is what keeps her alive really. Everything with Colt is romantic.

For Colt, Jody’s laugh is the best song he has ever heard. As he shifts the gears on the unfamiliar manual drive, vintage rental car, he realises he would do anything to hear her laughter, to have her sit by his side like this, at peace. No hospitals, no accidents, no injuries, no Tom and no Gail. He wants to be with her, he doesn’t quite see the point in his life if there’s no Jody to come home to. He doesn’t quite care about the stunts anymore if Jody isn’t behind the camera cheering him on. After years of his career taking priority in his life, he finally feels like he’s ready to settle down with Jody. These few days in Capri have given him a glimpse of what life would be like: slow mornings in bed, how Jody would wake up first and make him coffee, she would also make him try her Yorkshire tea some times, bickering over breakfast and day drinking on beach. He knows the rest of his life won’t be like a vacation, but with Jody, it would be pretty damn close. He remembers the movie where the romantic leads get stuck in a time loop and have to live the same day over and over again. He realises how close his life would be to that, every day, coming home to Jody and falling in love with her all over again.

Jody breaks his train of thought when she says, “wow it’s just like in the movies right? This view?” looking out of the car window at the serene views of the ocean.

Colt only looks at her when he replies, “even better than the movies really.”

——————

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Words bubble up like soda pop

Summary: Y/n gets fed up by the arguments her and Trent keeps having

Angst & Fluff

Another argument had ruined your day, small conflicts bubble up to a big argument. You can’t believe the arguments kept sneaking up behind your back every day, you’re sick of it. But neither of you cares about it, that’s the problem you can’t seem to take the matter into your own hands. It’s like an never ending loop, conflict-argument-he says he’s sorry and tells you he loves you- cuddles then it goes on.

-

“I said I’m not feeling well, why can’t you accept it?” You said, it felt like the hundredth time you’ve said it. Tonight Trent’s friend is hosting a party that he wants to go to but you have no interest of going, you just couldn’t stand him at the moment after all the words he had said to you last night plus all the nights before that. “You only care about yourself Y/n” Same sentence he brings up every fight. Not just that, your mental health has been shit as well and it blends into the state you’re at in your relationship with Trent. He knows that you’ve been fighting with your mental health before, but now when the season isn’t going well for him he has started to blame himself for a lot of things that’s happening with the team. He uses you as a wall to throw all his emotions on you- which you didn’t mind at the beginning, you wanted to be there for him but now it has become too much.

“Come on don’t be dull, it will cheer you up” Trent pleaded.

You thought about it for a minute. Maybe this was the point where you couldn’t care less, you felt like everything in your life was out of place, why not have a little fun in all this mess?

”Fine, I’ll go” You stated.

You spent the rest of your afternoon getting ready for the party, you took a shower, picked an outfit, did you makeup. You decided to go for a navy blue dress and loose curls in your hair. This was the first time in a long time you felt beautiful, you smiled in the mirror and then went down the stairs, Trent was waiting on the couch looking at his phone until he saw you.

He walked over to you and spoke “Wow baby, you look..”

“Amazing? Yea I know”

“Wish I could say the same” You teased.

“Hey!” Trent gushed as he grabbed you round your waist and kissed your neck.

You felt his warmth around you, his perfume that comforted you, you felt safe in his arms. But suddenly you remembered how he had treated you lately and decided to take a step back.

“Trent, we should go” You spoke up after a moment in his embrace.

“You’re right” He said and let go of you as the two of you walked to the hallway and got ready to leave.

In the car on your way to the party you two listened to your shared playlist and vibed along with the songs - acting like everything was okay between you two, you got flashbacks from the beginning of your relationship when you were two dumb teenagers madly in love. You think back and wondered where did it go wrong?

When you arrive at Trent’s friend house you see many cars parked outside the house and you already know is gonna be a tough night.

You entered the house and loud music is playing, people dancing and you see Trent’s friend approach you two.

“Trent, nice to see you! And this is?”

“My girl, Y/n” Trent said as he looked at you and you smiled at his friend.

You leave Trent to speak with his mates and you sit down at the bar ordering one shot for yourself. You felt the liquor burn down your throat, as Trent sat down next to you.

“Take it easy Y/n don’t lose it again” Trent mumbled.

“Excuse me?” You snapped.

“Don’t want you all wasted, just saying” He shrugged as you felt the anger rising inside of you, he could piss you off so easily and you hated it.

“Don’t tell me what to do, I can handle myself”

“Clearly not” He accused.

“Piss off Trent” You cursed back at him and walked away to get away from him. As you were on your way to the restroom you could notice someone following you, Trent. He grabbed your wrist and spoke“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer him and kept moving forward and locked the door. You had reached your breaking point, it all crashed down on you. You were sobbing loudly but at this point you didn’t care, you were also pretty sure that the music was too loud for anyone to hear you until your phone buzzed.

Trent: I can hear you Y/n, let me in please

You slowly got up from the floor and unlocked the door, he looked shocked like he had never seen you this broken before.

“Y/n, What’s wrong? Wh-“

“What’s wrong? What is wrong Trent? I’m tired of this.” You cried into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Tired of what my love?” He uttered.

“Can’t you see? We keep having these fights every single day, it’s destroying us. Aren’t you tired too?”

“Yeah trust me I am” He chuckled as you sniffed.

“Then why aren’t we doing anything about it?” You sighed.

“Three years ago I would never have thought I'd be in a restroom with you crying over our relationship” He scoffed.

“Trent answer me”

“I don’t know Y/n, but I’m sorry it has to be this way. I really am” Trent said as you noticed his eyes began to tear up.

Great. Now you’re both crying together, what have you two done do yourselves? You knew you two couldn’t escape that you loved each other too much to break up, so that felt safe in your head. He couldn’t live without you, you couldn’t live without him, who would take care of you when you’re wasted like this? Trent would, who would take of him after he lost a game? You would.

“I love you Trent” You said.

“We’re gonna fix this Y/n, okay?” He assured.

“Okay” You said as you took a deep breath to calm down.

Trent hold you in his arms for a while, just the two of you in a restroom on a Saturday night.

“Let’s go home and watch a movie together” Trent suggested.

“Only if you let me choose”

“Of course my girl” He said and kissed you.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 4/9/2023

the best photo i took this week

listening

i have not been keeping up with either the tuesdaypost spreadsheet or the tuesdaypost playlists so there's a strong possibility i have already talked about Joywave's It's A Trip! off the 2017 album Content. spotify

driving ten hours in one day is ideal for listening to albums and i listened to almost every joywave album on my way home from the eclipse. american indie rock band from rochester ny, i have loved them since early college. i think they were made in a lab to get to stuck in my head bc they tend toward lower register synthier tracks that deceptively amble cheerfully along and talk about dealing with fear. songs for a male protagonist to splash water on his face, look at himself in the mirror haunted by what he's seeing, linger in his children's bedroom doorways, and then drive off into the night for the finale.

i think i listened to this song for an hour on loop yesterday bc the chorus so perfectly got stuck in my brain

When you've gotten what you want (Maybe I should start over) There's nothing left to want (Up and at 'em again) You don't know what you want (Yeah, I'm thinking it over) Just tell me what to Want

they have spent a lot of time figuring out how to have longevity as a band: "The record kind of attempts to figure that out but it doesn’t end in a definitive place. For me personally, it’s just to create things that matter as long as I possibly can, and to make things that are going to outlive me that people can hang onto for at least five to six years after I’m dead." they are deeply cranky about virality/content churn, especially in this interview. i appreciate this in an artist.

could not tell you how i first found them. i think i would have to go back to the proto-tuesdayposts of 2018.

-

reading

when you're not sleeping well you can average a book a night!

Uprooted by Naomi Novik destroyed me. (image from here)

“Our Dragon doesn’t eat the girls he takes, no matter what stories they tell outside our valley. We hear them sometimes, from travelers passing through. They talk as though we were doing human sacrifice, and he were a real dragon. Of course that’s not true: he may be a wizard and immortal, but he’s still a man, and our fathers would band together and kill him if he wanted to eat one of us every ten years. He protects us against the Wood, and we’re grateful, but not that grateful.”

my best friend real-life influenced me into reading this book and i have since managed to convince four other people to read this book bc i won't shut up about it. the descriptions of the physicality of magic and how different kinds of magic and different families of spells Feel was only part of the coolest magical system ive ever read about. this is not a dark romance but it is a little brutal in a brothers grimm/this is how battles shake out sometime kind of way. i think a companion piece of media written from the Dragon's point of view would nicely parallel that post going around about how Howl's Moving Castle the movie is from Howl's point of view and Howl's Moving Castle the book is from Sophie's point of view. i would die for Agnieszka.

Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik (image from here)

Miryem is the daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders… but her father isn’t a very good one. Free to lend and reluctant to collect, he has loaned out most of his wife’s dowry and left the family on the edge of poverty–until Miryem steps in. Hardening her heart against her fellow villagers’ pleas, she sets out to collect what is owed–and finds herself more than up to the task. When her grandfather loans her a pouch of silver pennies, she brings it back full of gold. But having the reputation of being able to change silver to gold can be more trouble than it’s worth–especially when her fate becomes tangled with the cold creatures that haunt the wood, and whose king has learned of her reputation and wants to exploit it for reasons Miryem cannot understand.

i don't know if i've ever read a book with seven points of view before? i think it was well handled, but it required significantly more brainpower than screaming through three of kingfisher's light fantasy/romances in two days and it threw me a little. saying this book is about debts cheapens it a little, i think. it is concerned with debts but also safety, and it is very much about cost in a very fairytale way and in the horrible everyday calculus of survival way.

Swordheart, Paladin's Hope, and Paladin's Strength by T. Kingfisher. god these go down So smooth. kingfisher has a niche and i respect that. i am reading the Saint of Steel tetralogy out of order bc even four library systems can only do so much, and i don't think you particularly need to read them in order.

i'm a bit cranky that the terfs took feminist fantasy from me, bc when the protagonist got her period in Paladin's Strength a little alarm bell went off in my head and i had to put it down and google some stuff (the answer is no btw). there is a way to write female-focused lightly historical fantasy without being terfy and kingfisher does it, but it's so rare that i was genuinely expecting some sort of. weird agenda to be at play.

these were all fun, fast reads and i don't have much else to say about them! not that they are better or worse than novik's books but they will not live in my head quite as long. there are fewer tantalizing hints about systems of magic that make me want to graph things out u kno

-

watching

kanopy has Animation April as their focus this month which is how i saw The King and the Mockingbird (1980, dir. Paul Grimault) which is a longer piece adapted from something he'd been working on since the 40s.

This animated fantasy tale follows the romance between a lovely shepherdess and a handsome chimney sweep. The land's imperious king falls for the beautiful woman and tries to thwart her relationship, but a kind mockingbird assists the lovers in evading the ruler. At the king's command, the chimney sweep and his bird friend are imprisoned, and they must escape in order to rescue the young man's true love.

GOD the animation in this. there are so many references to early animation and silent film. there are so so so many gadgets and methods of conveyance in an absolutely architecturally dizzying castle. there is a ROYAL MECH that plays its own theme music. the backgrounds have a very Chuck Jones quality in that they are exactly as detailed as they need to be for the gag to work. the castle is lush and beautiful but not dizzyingly, overwhelmingly lush. there is a clear vision to every shot and a clear path your eye is meant to travel, which i appreciate very much. i think a lot of technically impressive animation (i am specifically thinking of the Nimh movies) muddies itself by trying to jam too much on the screen. just a fucking delight of a film. a delicious confection

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playing

nothing specific to say about genshin this week ur welcome

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making

painted a frame (it was a dead basic michaels frame i got at a yard sale and it was giving little boy's room) and framed a thing. this is a poster that came as a freebie with a 1997 album, and i actually bought this CD case without the CD inside bc i was so delighted with the poster. scuff sanded the frame with 120 grit, i went with a matte black acrylic bc i felt that disguised how the poster did not quite fit the frame a little better? and also bc it was what i had in the house.

i did not bother with a mat, i just used the lining paper with the stock photo and painted the back of that. do not do this with particularly valuable or beloved pieces. i do not think this is necessarily acid free and there is some danger that the paint may transfer to the back of the poster over time.

[arthurtaylorlester]

you may have seen my previous theory on wtf is going on with john doe malevolent, but i have more proof this time to show for my hypothesis!

in episode one, we first hear someone turning on a radio, presumably in a car, listening to “You call it madness (but I call it love)” by Russ Columbo (not the 1946 version by nat king cole trio we all put in playlists lol), then arthur gain consciousness

afterwards, they are in bookstore when a radio starts playing the song again, the entity doesn’t see the radio, but he does recognise the song

both arthur and the entity recognise this is odd, since atp the entity had only been in arthur’s body for 20 odd minutes

but, if you’re caught up, you’ll recognise that this is moment directly parallels a scene in part 33

this, however is not the only time something like this happens. in part 5, john uses a turn of phrase

this moment is soon after arthur’s month-long coma, so unless lily had been reading robert frost to arthur (which john would’ve most certainly mentioned when arthur brought it up), he shouldnt have any way of knowing this sentence. 

the first time we hear the poem in full is in part 26

but even still, in the context of the moment, why does john know this poem? he’s had no moment since he came back to learn anything of the sort, even ignoring the time it’d take to memorise something like this.

before this, there are only two instances of 'miles to go before i sleep' appearing, once at the end of part 17 and just before arthur leaps of the edge in part 23

so now, my answer to all these questions is a bit weird.

in part 1, the entity says as follows regarding time in other worlds and the dark world as being timeless

which initially led me to reach the idea that john's forgetfulness in part 33 has to do with the time he spent away from arthur in s3, which he claims he does not remember.

i think he was actually sent back to the dark world and spent an indefinite time there, since there is none, causing him to forget finer details. but that raises leaves many questions unanswered, like why did the entity know the song before ever being with arthur?

i think it's time fuckery. the entity we see in part one could be some sort of future!john, at some point he could be sent back to the dark world indefinitely once more, than brought back via the book at a different moment in time that from which he left, the past.

this theory makes a lot of leaps, but it also gives reason to why john already knows call it madness and miles to go, i believe he might use both of these as some sort of anchor to not go mad himself in the dark world, thought he does end up losing parts of himself and of arthur. still, he isnt completely gone, which is why he's eventually capable of becoming john again

it also kind of explains the first sentence the entity ever says in the show

of course, on your first listen you assume he means what happened to arthur a few moments prior, but with the context of a timeloop, he could be referring to the whole shows events, even what we havent seen

later, when john says he doesn't remember who he is either, and arthur says

i understand that the entity knowing what he is might help them both, but it's still a weird thing to say. arthur has just woken up with a corpse and voice in his head, and acts like it's not his first time doing this? i'm not saying he'd remember, but it would make more sense if he was partially amnesiac to the future/past loops like the entity/john

also, i think it's important to distinguish the entity and john, the former being an amnesiac john who has only the potential to become john, but could just as easily become yellow.

last point is, obviously, also a massive stretch.

in part 9, after their first consequential argument (as in it nearly gets them imprisoned), arthur tells this fable to john

which yeah, could be foreshadowing john being the king in yellow in the s1 finale, but. it wouldn't make much sense since john doesn't permanently get him and arthur killed?

i think it goes like this, if it lines up with my theory.

john starts forgetting about the dark world, starts getting dicier and riskier with his and arthur's choices, whether it be about his deal with kayne or other future lies, but he pushes and he keeps pushing until both he and arthur meet their end. at some point, he gets himself sent back to the dark world and arthur killed/otherwise indefinitely unavailable, and as he does, he says "it is in my nature", so the last thing he tell arthur isnt sorry, but an excuse. perhaps they end on bad terms, after all he's promised to not let him drown.

he is left there to rot in his misery with only faint memories of his new self (significant moments, like him telling arthur the poem) and after he starts forgetting, a long time for a place with no time, he is pulled into the book in the past, eventually reaching arthur again. he might recognise arthur's voice, but he might not remember enough at this point, having turned back into the entity, no longer being john.

but hey. this is based on my relisten of s1 and little else. i love stretching the canon to make it make sense lmao

edit 05/12/23 — further proof i only now noticed in episode 30 “The Tenant”

[kashimos-hajime]

—𝟐𝟐 - 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

pairing: getou suguru x fem!reader

summary: anonymous musician, kogane, had been dropping non-hints of who they were since they first began releasing music to the students of tokyo metropolitan technical college nine months ago to the frustration of everyone ever.

getou suguru, long-time (arguably #1) fan and campus heartthrob with a reputation is determined to find out exactly who they are before he graduates, and he has no idea where to start. that is, until resident idiot and best friend and roommate, gojo satoru, points him in the direction of you, the musical genius behind kogane

word count: 11.3k

a/n: hey yall!! i’m here with one of the most important chapters of the series. for reference for the song that *spoiler* suguru and y/n dance to, it is house of cards - full length by bts. i recommend you search up the translation of the lyrics if you do give it a listen because it has a lot of foreshadowing (also it’s a certified banger)

[9:30 AM]

You get up with a sense of trepidation. 

You spent all of last night picking out what to wear, and making sure you had everything you’d need so you wouldn’t rush in the morning, and as you leave the apartment while Maki still asleep, you can’t help feeling like your stomach’s about to spill out of your body.

A date. Your first… real date in a long time. Are you insane? As you check your reflection in your phone camera, you can’t help but scrutinize every aspect of your face. Every imperfection. What is going on through his head? What… what made him suddenly ask you out?

No. He might not even have meant it like that, you tell yourself firmly, turning off your phone screen and slipping it back into your pocket. Despite what your friends said, you have to keep a sane head about you. Not to mention, all that talk about Sukuna…

There’s no space for him in your head today of all days, and you firmly try to shut down that thought before it can branch any further.

He’s waiting in front of the building, looking around, and the way your entire body seems to lunge forward at the sight of him makes you burn in embarrassment. He’s dressed in sweats and a hoodie, a windbreaker pulled over that, and his gym bag is slung across his body, but he looks handsome as always, and he lights up when he spots you coming over.

Your heart cramps in your chest.

“Good morning. Sorry if it’s too early,” is the first thing Suguru says as you approach him. 

“If it was too early, I would’ve came later. I need to get work done anyway.” You push your glasses up your face, and fish out your student card from your pocket. It’s attached to a lanyard, and you loop your wrist through it. “I need to stop by the recording studio first really quickly before we head to where you needa go.”

“Yeah, sure.” They walk to the door, and you scan your card so they can head in as he adds casually, “You look nice.”

Your ears warm. “What?”

“You look nice,” he repeats. “I like your cardigan.” You look over at him just as there’s a beep, but he’s already moving to hold open the door and he sweeps his arm, gesturing for you to go in first. “After you.”

“Uh. Thanks.” Maybe it’s the memories of the last time you’d seen him flashing in your head, but your entire mouth blazes and you duck your head to walk in first, leading the way. 

The building’s pretty confusing if you’re a newcomer, but it’s one of the most comfortable places you’ve ever been in. Equipped with many rooms for recording music, practicing instruments, rehearsing for dance, it’s a place where many of those majoring in such studies have to be in for up to twelve hours a day. Your work space is the third floor, and Suguru follows close, just a half-step behind.

In the elevator, you glance up at the numbers.

“How’re you and Mina?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can. “You said you guys weren’t friends?”

“I stopped seeing her,” he answers. “Just not interested anymore.”

“She got boring?” You frown, surprised. It’s harsh of you to say, but Suguru’s been seen hanging onto her since the party. You’d thought that whatever had occurred to him was nothing more than water under the bridge and she was… she’s prettier than you, and bubblier. Very kind. Friendly. Hard to find someone like her boring.

Suguru shrugs. “No. She just wasn’t my type.”

“She’s not your type? But she’s beautiful and really nice, too.”

“So?”

“Well, if that isn’t your type, I don’t know what is.” The doors open and you walk ahead. He trails after you after a beat, and your mind wracks for what could possibly be the reason Suguru decided to drop someone like Mina so suddenly. Not interested in dating? Then why was he with her for the past week? And he hadn’t denied the rumours surrounding him earlier when you had asked him before yesterday.

Men are so fucking confusing. 

You shake your head.

The studio you’ve unofficially designated as yours as one of the senior music students is the one closest to the lounge room that houses a small kitchen unit, big couches, and even a TV that is hoisted onto a wall. 

You explain, briefly, about the lounge: “There’s even a gaming system that someone donated a few years back.” Unlocking the door to the lounge for him, you turn to Suguru with a faint smile. “You can wait here,” you tell him. “I just needa grab something next door.”

“I can’t come with?” he asks and you shake your head. “Why not?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Surprise?”

A track that you’d been crafting for a while that you want to upload later in the year, but you’re not about to tell him that so you just smile. “Mhm.” Suguru pouts playfully, and you shove him into the room, promising you’ll be back soon. “I’m sure you can entertain yourself. I’ll just be next door.”

“But I wanna see your studio.”

“You’ve seen it before.”

“I know, but it’s been a while.” 

“Suguru.”

“I missed you,” he sniffs, nose scrunching and a playfully childish expression on his face. You roll your eyes, and he inches closer, as if to walk past you towards your studio himself. You grab his arm, and he grins toothily. “I want to spend time with you, (Name).”

“Can’t you last two seconds without me?”

“I think I’ll die,” he affirms, and you can’t help your own foolish smile. He tilts his head, catching it, but you merely turn away, taking the arm you’ve grabbed and throwing it towards the lounge door. “Wait—“

“Stay put, baby,” you drawl, and his eyes widen. Ears beginning to pink, he opens his mouth to argue but you simply shove him deeper into the room and close the door on him. 

Scampering to your studio, you swipe your card and slip in. Taking your laptop out of your bag, you hook it up and begin to transfer a file you wanted to insert into the track. It’s a pretty old audio, from a recording of when you were a new student on campus, and now that you’re in your last year, you thought it would be right ro release a graduation song. A last farewell. It includes your voice back then, too, and you cringe at your own singing as you listen to it playback through headphones you shove onto one ear.

As soon as it’s done, you click through to make sure it transferred properly before sighing and unhooking everything. You try to keep your school laptop pretty empty, consisting of only new works in progress and other school files, which means all your music on the side has been shoved into USBs scattered across everywhere you live, other computers. One day, you’ll be glad that you can strip this laptop bare and have it focused solely on producing your tracks and not stress out about anything else.

You slip your laptop back into your bag and head out, migrating back to the lounge room. Inside, Suguru’s laying on the couch, his legs draped over the back of it as he scrolls on his phone, but at the sound of the door opening, his eyes dart up to meet yours.

“Look who came crawling back,” he teases, drawing himself up, and you shake your head, moving to check on the fridge. There’s a lot in here surprisingly, but you think a lot of it comes from people working at restaurants and them bringing their leftovers when they can. You sigh, rifling through it to make sure nothing’s spoiled. It stinks up the entire floor if someone’s not on top of it so most of the senior students keep up to date on the inside. “Woah, you got a lot of food in here.”

You jump, head snapping to the sound, and you jerk back when you find Suguru’s face mere inches away from yours. Heat flashes across your face as you straighten up, backing up. He observes you quietly through squinted eyes, and then he leans over the fridge door that barricades them from each other, smirking. “Did I scare you?”

“The food is for all-nighters. Need coffee and food to stay awake when you’re working at 3 AM,” you manage to say, pulling away from him as quick as you can without it being weird. Dark eyes bore into yours, and you reach to close the fridge. It seals itself shut and suddenly there’s nothing between their bodies. For some reason, it makes you feel very vulnerable. “And no. You didn’t scare me.” 

He clicks his tongue with a wry side smile. “Tch. Dang.”

Running a thumb underneath the shoulder strap of your laptop bag, you begin to walk away. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet, you keep me around.” He follows.

. 

You’ve only been to the uni’s dance studios once or twice, but Suguru leads you to one you’ve never been in before. It’s on the top most floor, and has a good view of the rest of the campus. When they go inside, the blinds are down, but Suguru tells you to make yourself at home and heads to pull them up, revealing so much sunlight pouring into the room it makes you squint. One wall is all mirrors to the left of the windows, and on the right are ballet barres, which you situate yourself under so you’re near the center back of the room. 

“You comfy there, baby?” he calls, and you look up on instinct, nodding before registering what he called you and you look down, pulling your laptop out hastily. He walks back over to you, sliding forward onto his knees with a hand planted on the ground and his leg bumps into yours as he flashes you a smile. “If you get hungry or anything, tell me. We can stop whenever.”

“Okay. But you’re working on something, too, right?”

“Mhm.”

“What is it?”

“Just workshopping some things,” he answers. “I hope you don’t mind me playing music.”

“I got my headphones,” you reply, pulling them out. He tilts his head, eyes flickering to it, before back up to you, and you blink, brow furrowing at the soft smile that flits across his face. He sighs, sets a hand on your head and pushes himself off.

“You’re cute,” he mutters, shaking his head. You scowl but he’s already turning his back, and you’ve lost your chance to spit something out in retort. 

This is so weird.

Is this a date or not?

It certainly doesn’t feel like one. They haven’t seen each other in a few days, but it feels just like it did when they hung out before. The heat, the way you feel so self-conscious around him. He gets close to you, and something in you wants to freak out but you can’t even fucking tell if you want to freak out in a good way or a bad way, and then he’s gone and the entire opportunity has melted away.

Suguru’s got rid of his jacket and hoodie in favour of a loose white tee, and now that he’s just in socks, he begins to roll down his body, stretching and slowly warming up with a lo-fi music playlist that you’ve just noticed beginning to play. His eyes are closed so he can’t see you looking, but when he lifts his arms up above your head, a flash of skin makes you avert your gaze.

You should not be staring.

Firmly placing your headphones on, you open your audio mixing program and bury yourself into the work. The sunlight warms your skin pleasantly, and you begin to forget where you are, finding a comfortable slouch as your mind begins to run like an engine humming, searching for new nooks and crannies in the score that you can fit or adjust another aspect of the instrumental. You haven’t finalized lyrics or anything, but there’s a certain sound that’s missing, and you’re not sure what it is.

It’ll have to be saved for later. You can never be satisfied with what you make. It’s probably one of the worst aspects of being a perfectionist, you think. You can’t let loose ends be. It’ll dog at you until you force yourself to give it up, but until then, you’ll keep trying to craft the perfect goodbye.

Replaying a segment of the bridge, you adjust your legs, stretching them out in front of you and resting your computer in your lap. Your eyes glance to the top right corner to check on the battery, and you roll your neck under a palm as you fish out your charger from your bag blindly. Fingers wrapping around the looped cord, you look up.

And what catches your eye makes your entire body freeze, soften, melt. Your eyes widen as you watch Suguru dance. He’s beautiful as he moves, his hair unbound, his body a singular flowing being that pushes and pulls with the pulse of sound. Your heart lurches into your throat as you dumbly slide the headphones off your ears just to hear what he’s hearing.

You’ve seen him dance before—of course, you have at year-end festivals and other presentations. In short bursts when they were talking about the project. It’s not an unknown fact that Suguru is one of the most talented dancers in the program. 

But there’s something different here. It doesn’t feel like a performance, more it’s like you’re watching something you’re not sure you should be seeing.

The purest expression of human emotion in the way his body is impacted by each note, Suguru bleeds something… vulnerable. Something raw. It’s a pain that echoes and your legs twitch, as if you want to join him, and it takes all your impulse control to stay down.

You’ve never been so close to Suguru while he was immersed fully in his choreography, and when his feet shift, when his arms stretch into those languid lines that are honed with practice, you can’t help but feel something swell in your chest. It hoists the two broken halves of your heart like a balloon, and mends the sharp edges with soft, buttery rubber that wanes under the grace of his pirouette.

You feel soft, and warm, and cherished as you observe art. You don’t know if this is how other people feel when they watch him dance, but this is how you feel. It might be because you have feelings for him, or maybe it’s the way his eyes are barely open, letting his instinct guide him, letting his heart lead his body to extend into the most beautiful lines, but in the sunlight pouring through the wide, tall windows, you are sure that Suguru’s pale golden figure swaying to the song pouring from the speakers is as close to an angel as you will ever get.

The song begins to climax, and Suguru prepares himself for a sharp spin. Your breath hitches and the world begins to slow as he pushes off his foot. Leg out to the side, he begins to pull it in with a control you can’t even fathom. As he turns faster and faster, though, his balance falters, and he stumbles out of the turn four rotations in.

Collapsing to his knees, Suguru lets out a frustrated noise, and he rolls out and lands spread-eagle on his back. He slaps his hand on the floor before it curls into a tight fist, and he throws an arm over his eyes. When the track completely finishes, he flips himself onto his hands and knees, and pushes himself up to his feet again, eyes dark and a displeased scowl plastered across his mouth. It’s so dark it nearly takes you aback, but you know exactly the feeling.

“I like the song,” you offer quietly as the music starts again from the beginning of the track. Suguru’s gaze snaps to you, and you meet his stare head on, offering a half-smile and a shrug. The tension in his face melts away, and the corner of his lip pulls up. Using the bottom of his tee to wipe the sweat from his face, he sighs, and turns around, staring at himself in the mirror and letting his arms swing out, shaking the excess tension out. “You’re a beautiful dancer, Suguru.”

“Thanks. If I could get this turn, maybe I’d be even better,” he adds the latter in a softer, more venomous tone, and you shake your head.

“It looks difficult.”

“I guess.” He shakes his head and sets himself into the prep stance for the turn again. His shoulders square off, and he shifts his weight testily on his back foot. Arms out, he stares at his own reflection, and he’s about to go when he drops his limbs, turning around to look at you. “Don’t watch me.”

“Why?”

“It makes me nervous.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because when pretty girls watch me, I get shy,” he drawls, hands on his hips. His tee sleeves have been folded up as a make-shift tank top, and his posture’s slouched as he cocks his head, still catching his breath. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand. “Turn around, (Name).”

“I literally will not do that,” you reply. “Staring at the wall is stupid.”

“For me?”

“What on earth makes you think that would make me change my mind?”

He sighs dramatically, and you can’t help your smile growing as he turns back around. You return your focus to your laptop, but watch through your eyelashes as he sets himself into his prep stance once more. One attempt. Two. Four.

You can’t tell if it’s getting better or worse. You have no expert eye, but when Suguru falls onto his back and runs a hand raggedly through his sweaty hair, pulling on the ends, you know for sure that he isn’t feeling his best. You sigh, putting all your stuff down and getting up. He doesn’t raise his head at the sound, and your heart swells in sympathy at the fierce scowl twists his face.

Descending to your knees, your lips press together, and he tilts his head towards you. An arm has been tossed over his eyes again, and he lifts it a bit higher when he realizes you’re so close.

“This is embarrassing,” he admits. “I wanted to impress you with how unbearably talented I was at dancing, but I’ve been stuck on this part of my routine for weeks. To be honest, I thought the extra motivation would help.”

“Perfectionist,” you mutter, surprisingly fond. His face softens, and you help him sit up. He shakes his head, and you let your hand rest on his elbow as he hunches over, sighing. “Maybe you’re in a rut because you’re so focused on it.”

“You think?”

“Mmm, that’s how I feel when I compose something. If there’s sections that aren’t connecting the way I want, I just keep working and go back to it.” Sitting back on your calves, you shrug. “I get frustrated really easily, but I have a pride thing about it, so it’s been a hard road of figuring out that giving your brain a break actually helps see the solution clearer.”

You feel cold compared to the heat radiating off of him. When he offers a hand, you let go of his elbow to take it, and together, they stand. Your heart is pulsing at a mellow pace, but it oozes warm honey everywhere through your body, and it makes your limbs feel lethargic. Your mouth opens, and you wonder what you would’ve said, but Suguru merely grins and it silences you.

“You always know what to say, huh.”

“I’ve been freaking out about a lot of things long before I met you,” you answer, and he laughs. Suguru squeezes your hand before letting go and heading to where his phone is hooked up and you grab your fingers, the tingling that buzzes over your skin making you uncomfortable in your own skin. “What are you doing now?”

Pausing the music, he scrolls on his phone, and you’re about to head over, curiosity piqued, but he holds out a hand, concentration overtaking his features.

“Hold on one second… trying to find it, ah—here it is.”

He presses play and piano begins to flow through the speakers before a strong, hearty string accompaniment joins the instrumental, and Suguru begins to saunter over to you as vocals kick in. You barely hide your smile at the over-exaggerated way he bends his knees as he swaggers over, his body swaying like a piece of silk flowing through wind.

“What are you doing?”

“Convincing you to dance with me with my uncontrollable appeal.”

You laugh. “You’re doing a terrible job of doing it.”

“Am I?” He finally arrives within arms length, and his fingers reach for your forearms, trailing down to your wrists. Leaving trails of cold fire that cause your spine to shudder, you let him pull you into him, and you shake your head as he guides your hand onto his shoulder. His other hand clasps yours in a firm grip you can easily slip out of, and his eyes are on yours the whole time, gauging for any sort of discomfort that could flicker across your face. 

His concern is touching, but you can’t imagine even deciding to run now as his arm tentatively rests on your waist. You step closer, and his Adam’s apple bobs. A tiny nod to himself, Suguru adjusts his feet, shifting his weight in a easy, simple move to the music. 

“Maybe you’re not so bad,” you admit, tilting your head. Your hand on his shoulder runs down the curve of it, and you watch the sun hit his smooth face that’s not lost its pink tinge ever since you’ve come close to him. “You know how to lead.”

“I’m an excellent dance partner,” he informs you, and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t let me convince you otherwise.” 

You have never danced with someone like his before. It’s completely out of your comfort zone to be this close with someone who you aren’t already close with, but Suguru tells no lie in regards to his passion for dancing. You can’t deny you don’t feel out of place as Suguru turns them around the room to the beat as the music begins to pick up in the chorus. 

His feet are placed smoothly, and he guides you without you needing to glance around, but you’re not quite sure you could’ve looked away from his dark eyes either way. Dark, affectionate, his watchful gaze does not stray from your face for a moment. Hair nearly falls into his eyes, but every time, you brush it back behind his ear, and he smiles when you touch his face—not a full smile, but that one he does that pulls at the corner of his mouth teasingly. Like a secret shared between two people. A secret between the sun and the moon.

He lifts his hand to turn you a few times, and he always catches you as they disappear in between the violin, the sound of the singers breathing through their notes in heavenly harmonies, the consistent pattern of piano chords that you can hear as clear as you can feel your blood in your ears. 

Music is your life. You can’t deny it. That, and the intrinsic link it has to dancing. The expressions of the soul. Oh… Suguru. You cannot help but think of the poeticism of it. The romance of it all. Your rose-tinted glasses shift, catch the sunlight, and you can’t help your smile grow bigger as the music begins to fade. You and Suguru still step to their own tune that’s been strung into their bodies, and as he guides you into another spin, you realize then that you trust him entirely.

You trust Suguru not to drop you—or, at least, to break your landing when you fall for him.

Whether it’s to reciprocate your feelings, though you doubt it, you know that through everything he says, everything he does… he cares about you. You’re not stupid enough to deny that he has some sort of affection for you, and that he only has your best intentions, and you have to tell him. You have to tell him everything. Sukuna. Your feelings. Everything. It bottles up inside you, shakes so suddenly like a boiling kettle, that you think you might explode.

He stops your turn, and their fingers find each other easily this time, interlacing. Suguru’s smiling at you, and you lift your hand from his shoulder to brush a few stray strands back away from his face. He turns his face into your knuckles, and you poke his brow, pushing him back.

“You’re so clingy,” you mumble, secretly pleased, and he laughs. Nerves twist your stomach as you let your hand return to his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I missed you. We haven’t spoken at all in person this week since the party.” His hand on your waist does not let go, and you let go of his hand in favour of draping your arms over his shoulders lazily. His free palm settles on your other side and they toddle, sway to a panel of sunlight where it’s warm. Suguru hums, slowly stopping their rocking rhythm so they can just stand in the golden beam. “You’re a good follower. If you were in our program, so many people would want to partner up with you.”

“It’s not hard to be a follower. The lead does all the work.”

“That’s not true,” he corrects. “It’s hard to let go of control and trust someone like that, especially people you don’t know that well. The lead has to know where they’re going most of the time and physically hold up their partner, true, but the follower has to let themself flow with the lead. If they resist, it makes everything impossible. They support the lead just as much as the lead supports them.”

“But I do know you. That’s why I trust you,” you reply. “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t even let them touch me.”

“Hah. Now, that, I have some experience in.”

“So, you’re happy that I’m letting you so close to me, now?” Something playfully malevolent possesses your tongue and you nearly regret your next words as they fly out: “Nanami wasn’t this close to me at the Halloween party, if you’re still keeping score.”

He groans. “Don’t bring up my stupid lapse of judgement, (Name).”

“I think I’ll bring it up as much as I’d like,” you retort, grinning. “You got so jealous over nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. He likes you and you guys spent nearly the whole night together.”

“Well, whose fault was that? I wanted to spend time with you, but you decided to be all grumpy, but don’t worry, I haven’t seen him since.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you jealous again? He barely even exists to me.”

“I know, but—“

Exasperated, you shake your head. “Suguru. Why do you care so much? And I know I asked you this before, but… but Nanami’s not here. He’s not even—I don’t even have any way to message him,  and it’s not like he reached out, so why does it still bother you?”

“Because it’s stupid.”

“What is?”

“How much I wanted to be where he was,” he confesses. Each word presses against your skin in a plush, soft breath, and your heart shoots forward as he tilts his head, his nose brushing against yours. Stomach tightening, you swallow, lips parting. Suguru lets out another pained sigh, “Oh, fuck.”

His eyes find your mouth.

When Sukuna kissed you for the first time five years ago, it had been your very first kiss. You hadn’t known, truly, what it would spiral into. You couldn’t really see his eyes at the time, and in your dreams, they are swallowed by his shadows. In reality, his room had just been too dark to make out anything more than the shape of his nose, his chin, his lips, outlined by the light of his laptop screen. You couldn’t even watch it happen. It just happened. 

One moment, you were watching a show, the next, a mouth had pressed against yours softly, and you submitted to him. For years, you have wondered if the lights had been on, if you would’ve still been there. If the lights had been on as a witness to what your body was doing, would your brain have screeched to a stop?

You think of this now.

Not because you want to think of him. You don’t. You just look into Suguru’s face, and you think of Sukuna, who you can barely recall at this very moment, and you watch it happen this time. 

There’s so much sunlight in this room it’s almost spilling out of their skin, and you can see the way Suguru’s eyebrows twitch together. You watch his thoughts like a one-way glass; you can see into him, and he can’t see a single thing into you, and as he searches your eyes, your mouth, your face for the answers to questions you’re nearly certain he’s silently asking, a sinking feeling begins to rise into your stomach at how long it’s taking. Sukuna had been near instantaneous. You had initiated last time at the party.

But they’re both sober right now, in broad daylight, and they’re both more than aware of what’s going to happen. You’re aware of every atom in your body—the placement of his hands on your body, your arms over his muscled shoulders. You can see the pores in his cheeks, the small acne scars from when he was a teenager you didn’t know existed.

Wasn’t this how a kiss went? Don’t they just go for it?

“If you kissed me right now,” you mumble, feeling more and more uncertain the longer the moment drags on, “I wouldn’t be mad at you or anything.”

Yet, he still doesn’t move.

Why?

Because he won’t do it.

No.

Because why would he? 

You’re right.

Why… would Getou Suguru ever kiss you when he’s sober?

“I can’t,” he finally utters, and the little voice in your head crows in triumph. You draw your hands back until you’re holding onto his shoulders, but even that feels like too much and you step far enough that his hands fall off your body too. 

Oh… but you expected this, didn’t you? 

Fucking shut up.

A boiling oily feeling coats your nose and cheeks as Suguru scowls at the floor, fists clenching and unclenching. His knuckles blanche, and you stare at them, trying to ignore the burning in your eyes. The back of your neck prickles as he curses hotly. “Fuck. Fuck me.”

“What?” you intone, lifting your head with a deep breath and pasting a smile on your face. His head jerks to you, but you only keep that wry half-smile on your face. “Taking the rejection harder than me or something?”

A horrified expression seizes his face, and he grabs your arms suddenly, his mouth opening to explain in a rush. “No, no. (Name), wait—“

“Suguru, it’s fine if you don’t want to kiss me,” you tell him despite the ache in your heart. Gently pushing his grip off with the side of your palms, you pull away. Your face is burning with shame, but you swallow your injured pride in favour of appearing unaffected. It’s better if people don’t know how they hurt you. It’s embarrassing when others figure out that they can hurt you like that. 

After all, you’re supposed to be cold, closed off. Untouchable.

Except, you had decided you would tell him anyway, didn’t you? You’d tell him all about the hurt that has festered and rotted in your heart in hopes that it’ll clear a space for him to settle in.

Except, when Suguru reaches for you again so insistently, tentative shaking fingers at your wrists, you don’t feel as invincible as you’d like.

You’re a book open for his perusal. You’ll tell him. You will. He’s already denied you one thing, but if you want to be friends with Getou Suguru, you must be as honest with him as he has always been with you.

“Actually,” you finally manage to say, “this is probably a good thing. It was stupid of me. We both said we weren’t looking for… for anything, so it’s better not to complicate things with that sort of stuff. I get it.”

“(Name).” His thumbs stroke your wrists and you want to curse his name. “(Name), no, No, it’s not that I don’t… you don’t understand how stupid I feel knowing I said all that shit about you not being my type and here I am standing, wanting nothing more than for you to kiss me. Or let me kiss you.” He laughs nervously, and draws your hands closer to his chest. You can feel his heart thumping swift like a river against your knuckles, but you can only blink in response to his own words. “It’s just… I need to tell you something before I dig myself too deep a hole that I can’t get myself out, y’know, I—”

“I like you, Suguru,” you blurt out, and when those words leave your mouth, you feel so relieved you think your heart might float out of your body. Suguru’s mouth drops open and you twist your hands to take hold of his own, squeezing painfully. “I like you… a lot. Like in a ‘I want to date you’ way, which I know you don’t exactly fuck with, but, y’know, I can’t help it. Fuck, it feels good to tell you, but I have to tell you, I’m fucking mortified right now because I’m pretty sure I’m just digging myself a deeper grave.”

“(Name)… I…”

“And you don’t have to do anything with that knowledge. You probably have people telling you that all the time, so I just thought I’d toss my two cents while I’m here because it’s good to be honest, right? We promised to be honest. I’m not feeding your ego again after this so you might as well take this while you can,” you ramble, that smile digging deeper and deeper into your lips. He watches you with a sympathy that makes you hate everything as he lifts a hand to cradle your face. You recoil, turning your head away but he grasps your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What?”

“Can I tell you a secret, (Name)?” he asks softly, and his thumb stretches up to rest just underneath the swell of your bottom lip. He regards you in a way that makes you shatter, and when he smiles, you think that a rotten part of you that died five years ago breathes to life—swells with blood, oxygen, knits together unnaturally to the side of you like a tumour. But it’s just you. It’s just your heart. “I tell every person that they’re not my type to let them down as gently as I can.”

A beat. “That’s not gentle,” you point out, strangled, and he hums.

“I know. I… it’s the best way I can put it. It’s rarely ever because of them, though.” As if that excuses it. At your silence, Suguru explains himself with a quiet tint of shame: “It’s… just I couldn’t think of someone who could change my mind on relationships, and there was all these people wanting something I couldn’t give them. I never wanted to date because it never felt like it would be worth it to open up to someone, y’know, and then break up with them and start over. There wasn’t anyone I wanted to get to know like that again. It was just a waste of effort.”

“Suguru…”

“I know. There has to be some deep-rooted fucking psychological problem with me because who thinks about the end before it begins, right? I never want to miss anyone ever again.” He chuckles mirthlessly and your brow furrows, your frown grows. “Then at the party, the idea that Nanami could have you drove me fucking crazy.”

“We don’t have to go over this again,” you tell him hastily. “I was just joking about it.”

“No. We do, because I don’t want to lose you to someone else more than I don’t want to miss you.” He strokes your bottom lip, and his face softens. In the sunlight, his eyes are clear brown, as if you’re seeing through crystals, and you reach up shakily to touch his cheek. He smiles as soon as your fingers brush his skin. “I was lying when I said it would be lame to care about it. It’s not. It’s actually so fucking not lame that I feel… I don’t know. I don’t want any other person looking at you, or talking to you the way I want to talk to you, but I was afraid you’d freak out if I told you, but I can’t not tell you when I get so irrational about it because I fucking like you.”

You inhale sharply. No. This has to be a joke. “You do?”

He nods. “I do. I’ll swear to whatever you want me to swear on that I do.”

“Y-you… you don’t have to do all of that,” you murmur, and he chuckles, touching your face everywhere, looking at your eyes, your nose, your brow where sunlight is dancing across your skin. He carefully pulls your glassess off, tucking them into his sweatpants pocket, and his fingers dust over your eyelids. Cupping your jaw, Suguru hums, amused, and you don’t know what to do with your hands. One of them is still on his cheek, the other over his shoulder, and although the silence swallows them, you think your world has stopped.

Getou Suguru likes you.

Getou Suguru likes you back.

This hasn’t all been for nothing. Your heart tripping in your chest, you try to figure out if he’s lying or if he’s joking so he can try to scam you for sympathy points, but as soon as you think it, a pulse of disgust rises up in defense of the boy. 

Suguru would never hurt you on purpose. Not like this. He knows. He has just as much on the line as you.

“Can I have my glasses back?” you demand quietly, and he laughs.

“You’re so beautiful.” His breath kisses your skin, and your lips part before you remember yourself, pressing your mouth into a thin line and swallowing hard. “So… so beautiful. I can’t stand it.”

“Stop talking nonsense.”

“‘M not,” he mumbles. “I wanna kiss you so badly. You drive me crazy, but I always feel like I’m finally a little bit more sane when I’m around you.” Your shoulders sink and he pulls away just to stare at your face. His thumb touches your under-eye, and he sighs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you haul him into a hug, one he accepts fully with his arms encircling your waist. “I haven’t felt sane in a long, long time.”

“Suguru…”

“I need to tell you something, (Name),” he murmurs, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped around your waist. His heat seeps into your body—he’s wearing a freshly washed shirt, and he smells like his cologne and a hint of sweat. Every inch of him is soft, pliant, and when he tucks his head into your shoulder, silky strands of his hair fall through the crevices of your hand when you card your fingers through. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I need to tell you something, too,” you whisper. 

“Okay. Okay.” He withdraws, and holds your face in his hands, before smiling. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but his effort shines through the dimple that pokes his cheek, and you touch it. You’d never noticed he had dimples before. “You tell me first.”

.

You sit against the wall underneath the barre. That’s where Suguru finds you when he returns with drinks from the nearest café on campus. Handing you a matcha latte, he grins at your glasses back on your face, and he reaches down to fiddle with them. You smack his hand, scowling, and he chuckles, sitting down beside you.

“How much was it?”

“I dunno why you even try, baby,” he says around a sip of his own coffee, and you roll your eyes, crossing an arm over your stomach and taking a stubborn taste of your own drink. Your lips twitch into a faint pleased smile, before you set it down beside you and look over at him. “So… we got drinks. Do you wanna talk about it or do you want a little more time?”

“No. I had time to think about how I wanted to say it,” you mutter, although you won’t look at him. He frowns around his drink. A part of him is secretly dreading what you’re about to tell him. It’s hard to decipher, especially when after that whole sunlight dance, you had detached yourself so robotically, and asked him to give you some time alone to organize your thoughts. Suguru can’t read your every thought, even though he likes to flatter himself with thinking he can read you better than most people, so he sits there, nursing his drink as you pull your knees to your chest, resting your chin on your knees.

“There was a guy in high school. He was my… first everything, I guess,” you utter at length. “He was sort of everything I wasn’t. I was a band kid, y’know, choir. Smart-ish. He was kind of like the bad boy. But popular, and it was sort of annoying because I didn’t really get it. He had all these girls trying to ask him out, but he was mean to them, so why the fuck would they want him?” A hint of a laugh makes his heart ache. You sound so nostalgic, so young, then. “But… then we became desk mates. It’s stupid, but I liked him because he wasn’t ever mean to me and I felt special. He was a bit rude, but he wouldn’t insult me over stuff I was insecure about, and he was really patient when I was dealing with things. We were friends, sort of. I guess. Friend circles didn’t mix, but we shared classes.”

Suguru thinks he has an idea of where it’s going as you unfold yourself, crossing your legs and leaning back against the wall. You stare at some far off distant point in the floor, but he only has eyes on you.

“I liked him a lot in my second year of middle school, but then nothing ever happened, and we drifted apart. I guess we were just too different, but there’s that feeling, I don’t know if you ever… but it’s like when you have these people in your life, and you look at them, and you think, ‘oh, I could fall in love with you so easily if I had the chance.’ He was like that person for me. I thought if I ever tried even a little, I could really like him again, and maybe I just never stopped liking him, because I wasn’t really interested in anyone else besides him.”

“Did anything ever come out of it?” he asks softly.

You nod, swallowing. A bitterness curves your lip. “In my second year of high school, we somehow… I don’t even remember how anymore. It just happened we reconnected somehow, and we decided to hang out, just the two of us. I feel like it was me who initiated it, because I feel so stupid about it.” Wistful: “It was winter. Not snowy. It was just beginning to melt, actually, and I thought we were just friends just going out for lunch. I thought… I thought he wanted to hang out with me because we were friends.”

His heart drops. A premonition of dread begins to grow darker and sharper in the back of his mind. “(Name), you don’t have to—“

“He invited me back to his house,” you whisper, trembling. “And we were just watching some show that we were talking about earlier. I don’t know how it happened. I just kept saying yes because I wanted to, I really did, and I thought he liked me. That he had sex with me because…” You cannot continue the sentence. Instead, you inhale sharply, and let out an agonizing exhale. “When he dropped me off at my house after, he texted me that he loved spending time with me, but he didn’t have feelings for me and that he just wanted to be honest so I didn’t get hurt further down the road. Isn’t that funny? It makes me laugh because I had to sit there, holding onto my phone, and pretend that my heart wasn’t breaking reading his texts. When he said he cared about me, but he didn’t want a relationship with me because we wouldn’t work out in the long run, he could see it, and that all we did… that all of that was pretty much… nothing to him. Man, I felt so.... so disgusting and used.” 

Raging anger shoots through his system as you shake your head and let out a quivering breath. “It hurts so much, in here.” A hand against your heart. Your eyes are closed, head tilted against the wall, and your lips are pulled into a grimace as if you’re holding back tears. Suguru’s entire body feels hollow as he watches your face scrunch up at the memory. “Why did he do that if he always knew he didn’t want to be with me?” You don’t wait for or want his answer. “And the worst thing is… I can’t ever bring myself to hate him. I can’t. I fell in love with him over the course of that day, and I… it’s so hard to get over someone you never even dated, Suguru, you have no fucking idea.”

A beat of silence. You inhale deeply, lifting your head from the wall to look at him blankly, and it clicks. The way you tried so hard to avoid his touch, your aversion for a relationship. You had given yourself to someone before, and they had discarded you like nothing.

“Something must have happened between him dropping him off at my house, and driving back to his own,” you continue with such a strong conviction that it makes Suguru’s heart ache. “Maki thinks he was just a fucking douchebag, but none of my friends knew him like I did. It’s been five years, and sometimes I think I can’t move on, but then I met you, and…”

“Do you still love him?” he asks tentatively, and your smile grows fonder, your eyes fall to half-mast as you regard him in that way of yours that makes him feel like he’s the only thing you see. Suguru looks down between them, his mind a swirl.

He already knows what he’s decided: he can’t tell you. He can’t tell you the truth. Not after this. Shoko can kill him for all he cares, but if she knew what he knew, she would fucking understand.

“When I first started liking you, I was so afraid that everything that happened with him would happen to me again, but you make me feel willing to try.” Your fingers stretch to touch his hand, and he takes hold of you immediately. “I’m telling you because it’s important, and I want to explain everything. Why I can’t move fast—why this is a really big deal for me. Suguru, please, look at me.” He sets down his latte and does so. “It still affects me. It still scares me, but I want to try. Do you… do you want to try?”

You’re so beautiful. Tentative with your heart in his hands, but open. You want to give him everything. You want him, and Suguru is a selfish boy with a liar’s tongue. He can’t hurt you now. Everything he wanted to tell you, the courage he’d been building up since he asked you out last night, crumbles to ash.

Because to say Getou Suguru is not a lover is not entirely true. He wants love. He needs it. But he is not built for love—not designed to be a capsule for it where it can age and ripen and grow into something warmer and hearty and healthier. He is a sieve. Everything will fall through no matter how fine, how big, a particle is, and he can do nothing but watch.

And you want to love him, but he remembers Riko, and Nanami, and now there is another figure in the corner of his eye that looks like a stranger, and you are in front of him, surrounded by all this shadow, untouched, pure in the light. You are the sun, unmarked by the noxious miasma that fogs his brain. 

His throat tightens. 

Riko’s youthful face is just like he remembers, flickering by your shoulder and smilling, completely unaware of anything happening as she speaks to someone. He hasn’t seen a mirage of her in so long. Not since she died. He used to see hints of her in the halls of the school, wisps of someone who used to be alive, and knows this is just a residual memory playing in his mind. 

An everlasting reminder.

But you would’ve liked her, he thinks. You are both too sunshine-like to not get along.

Because you are the sun. Hidden behind a cloudy, stormy exterior, Suguru has never seen someone shine quite so brightly as you when you finally let him in.

“Suguru,” you whisper presently, reaching to touch his face, and he blinks, head jerking to you. When had he even drifted away? “Are you still there?” Your fingers touch his cheek. “You look a little… lost.”

“I want us to work,” he insists, and his eyes close. “Sorry. I just was thinking…”

“You’re here,” you tell him softly. “And I’m here, if you want me to be.”

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay, I’m okay.”

“You’re okay,” you repeat, and he lets out a soft sigh, opening his eyes. “Let’s get up, and find something to eat.”

“I’m sorry. I’m all distracted when you told me all this stuff. I promise, it’s not because it’s not important, it’s because—“

“You’re thinking about Riko, aren’t you,” you murmur, and his eyes flash to you. “I can tell.”

“You can?”

“Relationships are a big commitment, and you’re… you’re sort of scared of commitment, Suguru. Dunno if you can tell,” you murmur, voice edging on teasing. It diffuses the heat inside him, and he slouches as you chuckle, coming closer. He lets you, fingers wrapping around your wrist to hold your hand against his face. Kissing the palm of your hand, he closes his eyes. “Could be because of her.”

“It probably is.”

“I mean, I’m not a psychiatrist, so…” you drawl playfully, and he lifts his head again, glaring at you in faux irritation. You smirk. “What?”

“You’re too smart.”

“Why else would you like me?”

“Do you want me to whip out my notes, again?” he asks, pulling away, and you scoff. “I can do it. I’m gonna do it.”

“Do not—“

“I’m getting up to do it.” Pushing himself to his feet, he begins to walk back to where he left his phone and you call his name, annoyed. He doesn’t listen though, content to walk like there’s a breeze beneath his feet. He just about reaches the table when something grabs his hand, pulling him backwards. His muscles contract, hauling you close as he turns around, and he catches you before they can knock heads.

“I don’t wanna hear about your weird lists,” you snap, eyes narrowed, but you don’t try to escape, and he chuckles, leaning in closer and rubbing the tip of his nose against yours teasingly.

“Why not, baby?”

“Because it’s embarrassing,” you mumble, turning your face away. He lifts a hand from your bicep to tilt your face back towards him, and he leans in close. “Stop,” you whine. “You make me feel so stupid.”

“What’s so embarrassing about me having feelings for you?” he utters softly, and you inhale, shivering in his hold. “Should’ve known as soon as I made a list of all the things I knew about you in my notes app that I was a goner.” 

Your eyes meet his, and he’s struck by the glow in your eyes. It’s not something physics can explain. Something more innate than science ignites Suguru from head to toe and he feels like he’s been ushered into a warm room after nights spent out in the winter night. 

You swallow, lips parting to speak, but he rushes to cut you off: to say you’re beautiful, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever fucking known. But what comes out instead is: “Shit.”

You frown. “What is it?”

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen, and you struggle to formulate a sentence, before settling on a nod, your breathy ‘yes’ just barely reaching his ears.

Suguru lifts his hand to remove your glasses, setting them blindly on the surface behind them. He cannot take his eyes off you. The sunlight is just barely hitting your face, giving your skin a warm glow despite the coming winter.

And there’s that tiny little frown again, the one he adores so much. He needs to kiss that pouty mouth or he thinks he’ll starve.

Suguru kisses you, and his entire body cannot help but meld into yours. He pulls you even closer until you’re flush against him, his hands immediately cupping your jaw as soon as he feels your body against his. Your fingers wrap around his wrists gently, your mouth parting, and he feels your gasp in his body as his tongue tentatively slips against yours, warm and soft and velvety. 

You let out a soft keening noise, and a hot surge pulses through Suguru’s core, but he suppresses the desire and pulls back. Sucking in a deep breath, he returns with lingering, but chaste kisses, and your fingers dig into his wrists tightly as you push up against him, almost chasing him. It makes him grin against your mouth, and he draws back fully, thumb brushing the swell of your lip.

Your eyes open slowly, dreamily. You look so happy that Suguru wants to eternalize this moment. He doesn’t want to let another thing hurt you in this life, in this world. Not when he’s still here by your side. He wants to swear it, but he can’t, and all of a sudden, his heart cramps in his chest so intensely it’s like it’s reminding him that it’s still here, and still beating, still alive. 

He’s been here before, or something that looks enough like it. His mind reeling, his eyebrows knit together as he thinks back to earlier this week, to when he had said he couldn’t be your boyfriend. All the events leading up to that moment, even the positions their bodies had been in as he said it, are unclear blobs of colour vaguely resembling their costumes, but when you shift your body, his stomach tightens and he sucks in a soft breath.

They’ve been here before. Arms around each other, eyes shining with all the adoration a human being can possible encompass. Your legs wet against his from the hot tub. Your mouth burning from the alcohol as you kissed him senseless. His hands on your body, the sneaking glances when they’d returned, concealed by drunk giggles.

You burrowing into his hoodie as you fell deeper asleep on Satoru’s couch, relaxed and at peace in the remnants of their party.

Did you have feelings for him then? How far back did they go? Do they go as far as he’s willing to acknowledge his own? Or did they come closer to today, where they stand now, body to body, nose to nose. He wants to know. He wants to know everything. 

“Suguru? What is it?” you whisper presently, derailing his thought train. Their illusion is slowly breaking, and the golden bubble is rapidly disappearing as you frown. Suguru meets your eyes tenderly. Oh, you are the most precious thing, and he is weak at the knees.

“You’ve kissed me before,” he informs, scarcely audible. You flinch away from him, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, squeezing reassuringly. “I’m not mad. I’m just—“

“I thought you didn’t remember.” Horrified, you duck your head. “Shit. I—I didn’t want to tell you in case it didn’t mean anything. I… I thought you didn’t remember.”

“I didn’t. I just remembered.” Then, testing: “Do you remember anything?”

Your shoulders sink and you shake your head. A swell of relief tides in Suguru despite the guilt prickling in his gut. So you don’t remember what he said. That’s good. It’s simpler if you don’t remember stupid things he’s said.

Don’t get him wrong. He was honest with you back then when he said he couldn’t be your boyfriend, but that had been drunk thoughts, insecurity, and the secret of it all threatening to spill out of his chest. He couldn’t wasn’t the same as he shouldn’t or he wouldn’t. 

You regard him warily. “Are we okay?” 

Suguru blinks, and there’s that distinct feeling from his youth growing up side by side with someone like Satoru; that feeling of not being quite able to catch up. Mouth dry, he affirms, “Of course. I just wish you told me. Then, I wouldn’t have had to waste this week trying to figure shit out.”

“Yeah, well, I was scared it didn’t really matter to you. It was just a kiss, after all, and I didn’t want to ruin something over a thing I might’ve blown out of proportion when you probably didn’t care, so I… I don’t know. Y’know, I take that stuff kinda seriously.”

“Well, it wasn’t just a kiss to me,” he says. “You kissed me. The girl I like kissed me. I would’ve been fucking elated if I remembered.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. And then, maybe today wouldn’t have been an elaborate, subtle, kind of vague ploy to get you to go out with me, and we could actually be going out for real right now.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Was this supposed to be a romantic date?” you ask curiously, and heat rises to his face as you carefully wrap your arms around his neck. He puts on a smile and shrugs carelessly. “Stupid.”

“Have you been on better dates?”

“Considering what I just told you, no. So, granted, you’re winning so far,” you tease. He opens his mouth to apologize, but you shake your head. “I get to make fun of it. It’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm. Five years, and I’m getting over it. Enough to like your sorry ass.”

“Well, sorry you fell for my good looks, charisma, and natural talent for everything.” You shove him away, scoffing, and he laughs, grabbing your hand again, and squeezing it. “C’mon. Something to eat, right?”

���You’re driving us somewhere, then.”

“Demanding me of something already and we’re not even five minutes into this relationship,” he jokes. Your gaze darts to him warily, and you cross your arms over your chest. He catches the shift, and he straightens up, smile shrinking. “What is it?”

“That’s what this is?” you ask quietly. Your fingers dig into your own biceps as you look away. “A relationship?”

He frowns, hesitantly asking, “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I… I do want it,” you admit, “but now that it might happen, I don’t know if I can do it. If I can just go out in public and say, hey, I’m dating the guy everyone wants to date. That’s just not me.”

“We don’t have to make a big announcement out of everything. We can just… see how it goes, can’t we? Play it safe and slow,” he murmurs, but you shake your head, looking doubtfully at the space between their bodies. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s really no big deal to me how you wanna go about this. I really do like you, and if you want to date, fine, if not… that’s fine, too.”

You deliberate this for a moment.

Then: “I’m just gonna this first before we go further that you’re not gonna fuck me.”

His body goes stiff. Not from disappointment, but just by the sheer amount of ice in your tone. “What?”

You turn to pick up your glasses from behind you. “We’re not having sex or anything today. If that’s what you’re looking for, tough luck.” You slide them on, trying to move past him, but he grabs your elbows insistently, keeping you rooted before him. You try to fight it at first, begrudging attempts at trying to rip yourself away, but Suguru is stronger. When you finally don’t try to run, he lifts an index finger to your chin, guiding your gaze back to him, and your face contorts, anguished and cracking apart at the seams. 

“Don’t ever think that. I’m not here just so I can have sex with you, (Name).”

“I know it’s out of left-field but most guys expect that, don’t they?”

“Yeah, but I don’t,” he insists firmly, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone. He knows he’s not annoyed at you and he doesn’t want you to mistake it that way. He’s pissed that you think like that, sure, but you have every reason. Fuck, if he could just… somehow heal that part of you, he’d give anything, but you’d hate his pity. Gentler, he adds: “I don’t like you just because I think I can sleep with you,” he says, appalled. “Do you trust me?”

“I do. I do trust you, I just I can’t…. I can’t put myself there without feeling gross, Suguru, and a relationship normally progresses that way, and I don’t know if I can do it now, or soon, or whatever your timeline is, so please, don’t ask that of me.”

“I won’t,” he assures you, as sincere as he can be. “I don’t need that kind of stuff. As long as you’re comfortable with everything we have going on, I’m happy, okay? And if you want to sleep with me, okay, if you don’t, all good. I like you, (Name). I always have. That’s not gonna change just because I can’t do something as trivial as sex.”

“I wish it was that easy for me,” you mutter, but he shakes his head.

“I like that you take this stuff seriously. I think it’s admirable, and romantic, and I like that about you,” he murmurs. “Believe me, it just inspires me to woo you even more.”

“Woo me?” you echo, sarcasm inked into your words, but your tone lightens. Suguru’s heart lifts, too. “How are you going to go about that?”

“Well, first,” he drawls, tilting his head to press a kiss against your cheek, “I take you out to dinner.” A kiss to your other cheek. “And then I take you to the beach.” Your eyes meet his, and he grins. “Hopefully there are fireworks.”

“So, it’d have to be a special occasion.”

“Mmm, and we could dance on the beach.”

“That sounds nice, actually.”

“You could lead me, too, and dip me over your leg to kiss me,” he suggests much to your dismayed expression, and he chuckles. “Just kidding.” He sneaks a peck, one that has your eyes closing, and you swallow, letting out a long exhale. 

When your eyes open again, they’re filled with a renewed vigour. 

“Suguru, you’re really sure about this? Boyfriend, and all?”

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t still be here. Believe me.”

You bite your lip and nod. “I’ll try.”

“Good enough for me.” Stepping back, he extends a hand towards you, fingers outstretched, and when your hand slips into his, it has never felt more like two puzzle pieces finally finding one another. 

You run to catch up to him, and your face is cupped by his free hand briefly, his lips seeking your forehead. You pause, feeling his lips brush down your temple, and your cheek pulls. He can feel your smile against his lips as he finally touches your lips with his own in a soft, lingering kiss.

Three words threaten to push against his tongue, but he pulls away, surprised at the urge to blurt out something he’s not even sure exists, so he simply settles on kissing your forehead again and pulling away.

“I can keep calling you baby, right?” he checks, and your nose wrinkles as you laugh, shoving his face away.

“All that, and that’s what you want to ask me?” A beat. “Yes, you can, baby.” You grab his chin, kissing his jaw, before letting go of his hand to gather your things.

“Well, I might wanna try other names.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Honey. Dear. Sweetheart. Flower.”

“I like baby, I think.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah. I’m just used to it.”

“Okay.”

You hoist the bag ont your shoulder. Suguru grabs his bag, too, grabbing everything he needs. Thoughtfully: “Flower is a strong contender.”

An idea springs forth, and he glances over his shoulder. “How about sunshine?” You’re adjusting your glasses, but you’re hiding a smile behind your hand as you meet his gaze. He thinks on it. “Sunbeam.”

“That doesn’t suit me.”

“Yes, it does. Go argue with a wall.” You walk up to him, and a faint smile graces his lips as he catches your phone camera sneaking a picture of him. Quirking an eyebrow, he leans over to see what you’re doing, but you turn away. Suguru peers over your shoulder, and a heat blooms from his chest when he realizes you’re changing his profile picture.

“You just changed it a few days ago,” he points out as you adjust the position of the picture. You look up at him, and he shimmies closer to watch you save the image. It’s slightly blurry, but it looks distinctly charming. Maybe because you took it. Resting an arm across your shoulders, he presses his nose against your temple. “Sunbeam.”

“Yeah?’ you mumble, distracted. You’re swiping through notifications on your phone, now, and he averts his gaze, focusing on leading you to the door. His hand slips into your free hand, and you finally look up when he closes the door behind you. Flattening your bag strap, you rub at your face. “Sorry. Got distracted.”

“’S long as I’m still your boyfriend,” he says, and the word settles so easily on his tongue he wants to say it again. Announce it to the whole world. He’s a boyfriend now. Getou Suguru is a boyfriend. 

He doesn’t think it would’ve ever sat right if he was someone else’s boyfriend—anyone else’s but yours. Because you roll your eyes, and you try to pretend it’s not a big deal to you and say something about how Maki’s going to hate his guts, but when they walk to his car and you climb into his passenger seat, you shyly press a kiss to his mouth before he pulls out of the lot, and sneak your fingers between his on the centre console.

There’s a soft melody playing from one of his CDs you picked. 

He squeezes your hand as he passes an intersection. You squeeze back, looking out the window, but in the reflection of the glass, he can see the curve of your smile.

a/n: thanks for sticking around and reading all the way to the end! please leave a reblog/comment if you enjoyed :)

tags: @thelameless @lucyrocks86​ @kentospet @id-rather-be-an-outsider​  @ys2800​ @tuzuis4thwife @pidwidge​ @xbookmanx​ @kaitlyn2907​ @butterfly-skinnylegend​ @rumi-rants​ @bloombb​ @mykyoon​ @waterlily502​ @hanabihwa​

[fwoopersongs]

安和桥 - Anhe Bridge

Let me look at you again, from South to North. It’s as if the Fifth Ring Road has clouded my eyes. [1] Please tell me the story again about that day, the young lady carrying the box, and the man wiping off his sweat.

I know. Those Summer days, like our youth, are never coming back; what takes the place of dreams can only be life’s struggles and discontent [2].

I know. All that horn tooting, along with our youth, will be laughed away, leaving me trapped in the city, memorializing you [3].

Let me have a taste again - of that Autumn wine; Just keep driving straight Southwards, it won’t take too long. Let me hear it again - that most beautiful greeting of all, “Oh, you’re home [4]. I’ve been waiting for you.”

I know. Those Summer days, like our youth, are never coming back; what takes the place of dreams can only be life’s struggles and discontent.

I know. All that horn tooting, along with our youth, will be laughed away, leaving me trapped in the city, memorializing you.

I know. Those Summer days, like you, can never come back. I will never again feel this for anyone - this heartfelt excitement [5].

I know. In this world, each and every day brings too many regrets. So, hello (goodbye.) [6]

............................................................................................

I love this song a lot.

Someday in mid ‘23, we were sharing favorite songs and others with interesting lyrics in a group chat, and a friend dropped this link to 安和桥 (this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cr-I94YpUo4). I was listening to it and enjoying the cute drums and nostalgic lyrics, when suddenly, the first 让我困在城市里 纪念你 came up, leaving me ???? The bridge music coming in a few lines later made me cry rivers lol (I’d put two and two together with the album art - below - and the lyrics). 安和桥 has been added to my list of songs to loop ever since. 

A few months back A. (halfxin) used Anhe Bridge in a fanvid for Qihun for an event we took part in, and it reawakened something in me for this song again :D So, here we are.

[1] 让我再看你一遍 从南到北 / 像是被五环路蒙住的双眼 Let me look at you again, from South to North. / It’s as if the Fifth Ring Road has clouded my eyes.

Trying to understand this line, I looked up Song Dongye, who is both singer and songwriter. It’s the 11th song in his 2013 album, North of Anhe Bridge. There is an interview of his online with 凤凰网文化 (lit. Fenghuang Web Culture). The relevant part is translated below.

Song Dongye at his home which used to be at Anhe Bridge.

Fenghuang Web Culture: You have a song named ‘Anhe Bridge’, and the name of your album this time is ‘North of Anhe Bridge’. You've also said before that ‘Anhe Bridge is just a bridge, but she’s given me the most precious gift in my life’. What exactly is the significance of Anhe Bridge to you?

Song Dongye: I was born near Anhe Bridge. Nearly all of my childhood and teenage years were spent there. Afterwards, my grandmother came to live there, and whenever I was unhappy, I’d run back, play the guitar and sing by the river, and eat the meals my grandmother cooked. Later, the people of Anhe Bridge were evicted and the village demolished, and I brought my grandmother to live with me. At one point, I wanted to write a song about Anhe Bridge, but I kept feeling that I hadn't accumulated enough life experience to truly express the emotions I had for it.

Fenghuang Web Culture: The lyrics, ‘Let me see you again from South to North, like eyes blindfolded by the Fifth Ring Road’, are very moving. Can you tell us about the scene at the time and the feelings in this line?

Song Dongye: It was from a time when I was on the way to Fenghuang Ridge with friends. We passed by Anhe Bridge, driving from South to North. Anhe Bridge had been demolished and the Fifth Ring Road overpass was wrapped over the ruins. It was both very cruel and very comforting, so I took out some paper and wrote that line in the car.

Fenghuang Web Culture: Beijing these days is like a pot of congee, with all sorts of seasoning and ingredients thrown in together, bubbling and boiling. As Beijinger born and bred, what does the city mean to you?

Song Dongye: Well, it's home. Whatever a hometown is in a person's heart, that's what Beijing means to me. But when I say Beijing, I'm talking about the city itself, not the capital.

This is what's on the back cover of the album.

I also wondered how Anhe Bridge and the landscape in the area would look like. From the way Song Dongye and the interviewer were talking about it, it seems this is the name of an area rather than a specific bridge. So how close is it to the Fifth Ring Road expressway in Beijing? Spatially, how are they all situated?

Digging a bit on baidu maps and google maps for the intersection of the Fifth Ring Road and the Haidian District, I was able to find a Anheqiao Avenue off to the left.

This is the area on google maps.

This is how it looks on baidu.

If you're curious about how the streets look like, this delightful person did what I would have done if I lived close enough (I'm not even in the same country LOL) and got there by train to look around. They didn't manage to find it, but they did get see a lovely light installation piece that also informed about the history.

安河桥，北京地名，位于北系市海淀区中部。[清雍正二年1724年在今天的安河桥村北侧设有圆明园护军营正红旗，并在附近设“丰益仓”，为出行方便，] 在临近的河上修建了一座木桥，取“安澜平和”之意称“安和桥”。 The portion within the [ ] brackets was sourced online as the video only showed the first sentence and the last part of the paragraph. Anhe 'Peaceful River' Bridge, a place name in Beijing, is located in central Haidian District. [In the second year of Emperor Yongzheng's reign during the Qing Dynasty, 1724, the Old Summer Palace's Plain Red Banner Guards were stationed to the north of what is now Anhe 'Peaceful River' Bridge Village. The Fengyi Granary was build close to the area to facilitate travel, and] a wooden bridge was built over the nearby river. Taking its meaning from 'peaceful waters, harmonious times' this bridge was named Anhe 'Peaceful and Harmonious' Bridge.

Anhe 'Peaceful and Harmonious' Bridge (安和桥) was renamed Anhe 'Peaceful River' Bridge (安河桥) during Emperor Qianlong's reign - so between 1736 and 1796 - because of the watergate that was built there as part of flood mitigation measures.

[2] 勉为其难 life’s struggles and discontent This is an idiom meaning to be forced or be forcing yourself to tackle a difficult job, and by extension, doing it reluctantly.

[3] 纪念你 memorializing you ‘In memory of you’ would probably have worked as well here, but I liked how this sounded and stuck with it.

This specific wording when used on a person can only mean they've passed away. Which was why hearing it in the song when I wasn’t expecting it was a small shock.

I also later learnt from my friend that this song was written after his grandmother passed, and then separately found out that the album art was of them together in his childhood at Anhe Bridge.

[4] 你回家了 “Oh, you’re home.” A used ‘Welcome home’ which I LOVE.

The melody in the bridge after this line is played using the Mongolian instrument bowed string instrument, morin khuur, also known as the horsehead fiddle.

Here's the full piece for it if you want more. (I know we all want more xD it's sooooooooo AMAZING)

[5] 满怀期待 -this heartfelt excitement Literally a heart filled with hope and anticipation.

[6] 所以 你好 再见 So, hello  (goodbye.) This was just how it sounds like to me as he sings it. The hello is to his memories of her and Anhe Bridge. At the same time, it's also a goodbye with a bit of finality to it.

Credits

民谣音乐人宋冬野首张个人专辑 《安和桥北》 词／曲／编曲／吉他／手鼓／和声：宋冬野 制作人／编曲／钢琴／键盘／弦乐编写：韦伟 编曲／吉他／贝斯／和声：尧十三 录音师／混音师：陈程 弦乐：李琪＋李琪弦乐团 母带工程师／录音监制：陈东 录音棚：［粮］录音棚／乐家轩录音棚 出品：摩登天空 监制：沈黎晖 经济／摄影：牧师 平面设计：孔阳 文案：宋冬野／高飞

Lyrics

让我再看你一遍 从南到北 像是被五环路蒙住的双眼 请你再讲一遍 关于那天 抱着盒子的姑娘 和擦汗的男人

我知道 那些夏天就像青春一样回不来 代替梦想的也只能是勉为其难

我知道 吹过的牛逼也会随青春一笑了之 让我困在城市里 纪念你

让我再尝一口 秋天的酒 一直往南方开 不会太久 让我再听一遍 最美的那一句 你回家了 我在等你呢

我知道 那些夏天就像青春一样回不来 代替梦想的 也只能是勉为其难

我知道 吹过的牛逼 也会随青春一笑了之 让我困在城市里 纪念你

我知道 那些夏天就像你一样回不来 我已不会再对谁 满怀期待

我知道 这个世界每天都有太多遗憾 所以 你好 再见