#LEFT YOU OUT THERE STANDING / CRESTFALLEN ON THE LANDING

[chappellrroan]

Song of the day

my song of day

[forgaeven1]

no but a champagne problems au with me when?

[taruruchi]

I just stopped crying because of a fic and then I saw the title of another fic "because I dropped your hand while dancing" and started bawling again

[poughkeepsies]

some songs are forever gonna be the funniest most insane things in the world to me because of the memories they're associated with and I wish everyone could experience what I feel when I listen to them

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

[suuuupernovaaa]

fmokx

fmokx [English] n. jealousy, envy

Anonymous Request: "What are your thoughts on writing jealous Neteyam fics?"

Neteyam gets jealous when Lo'ak makes you laugh.

Adult Neteyam. | 1,125 Words

A laughter overtook me, so much so that my body was shaking and tears pricked at the corner of my eyes.

"Lo'ak, stop!" I hollered, pushing him away from me. His impression of my mother was too spot on, it was making my sides hurt.

"Oh, Y/N, this hair... you expect, like this, to find a mate?" he mocked her shrill tone, grabbing one of my braids between his fingers and eyeing it with a disappointed look.

Gasping for breath, I doubled over with laughter. It was such a relief to let loose with a friend and be able to joke about my mother, my greatest source of stress, and it just felt so good.

"Please, my sides hurt," I said, and Lo'ak finally let up, laughing right along with me. I bumped my hip into his, and we smiled at each other. "Thank you. I was in need of a good laugh."

"Any time, pal," he replied, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

--

Seething, Neteyam watched as Y/N laughed and smiled at his younger brother. There was nothing Lo'ak could be saying to her that would be that funny. Lo'ak was an idiot, and he was not funny, and that could only mean that Y/N had a crush on Lo'ak.

No one would laugh so hard at someone else's joke unless they had a crush on them. Especially not Lo'ak's joke.

She had never laughed at his jokes like that.

Not that he made many jokes... did he? He tried to remember. Y/N certainly smiled at him a lot, but he'd really never seen her laugh as hard as she was laughing now. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone at all laugh that hard, in fact. They were really putting on a show.

She pressed her side into Lo'ak's, and the two shared a smile that made Neteyam's stomach turn. He nearly did throw up when Lo'ak wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him.

When the two parted, Neteyam stalked towards his brother, and shoved him from behind, hard.

"What the-" Lo'ak turned around, defensive, and saw his brother standing there. "What's your problem?"

"My problem?" Neteyam hissed, looking around to make sure no one could hear them. "Why are you making her laugh like that?"

Lo'ak looked over his shoulder, to where Y/N had disappeared into the jungle, back towards Home Tree. "Y/N? We were talking about her mom." Lo'ak narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Are you jealous?" His shock and anger turned to glee, and a devious smile spread across his face. "You like her!"

Neteyam rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Lo'ak." He shoved his brother to the side, walking past him, hoping to get out of this conversation.

"Well, she likes you, too," Lo'ak said, and Neteyam stopped, turning on his heel. Lo'ak's smile grew as he gloated. "Yep. She told me so herself."

Neteyam practically stomped back to his brother. "You lie."

Lo'ak rolled his eyes. "She's always liked you, and you're being a moron. I'm just funnier than you. That's why she laughed. I am allowed to make my friends laugh, even if you're in love with them."

With a grunt, Neteyam left his brother there to find a place to be alone, and think.

--

I pulled back tightly on my bow, as the Tapirus bent down to drink from the stream before it.

Taking a deep breath in, I focused and aimed, preparing to release.

A loud noise from behind me cause the Tapirus to panic, and scurry away into some nearby bushes. I released my arrow, but it was too late - he was gone, and the arrow landed with a thwack into the dirt.

"Bah!" I exclaimed in anger, and charged forward to retrieve my arrow. Turning, I saw Neteyam appearing through the foliage before me.

"Neteyam!" I hissed. "Why are you being so loud? You cost me my kill!" Neteyam was usually so quiet in the jungle, he'd snuck up on me many times. This was unlike him.

"Oh," he said, looking crestfallen. "Sorry."

Sheathing my arrow, I sighed. "No, I'm sorry for snapping. Are you okay?" I asked. Neteyam looked nervous, or jittery, or... something. He didn't look like his usual calm, confident self.

"Oh, yeah. I, uh, I just wanted to see you." He reached behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact pointedly.

I spread my arms out wide. "Well, I am here." I spun around in a circle. "Take a good look." My anger was melting away by the second, but of course, I had trouble staying mad at Neteyam.

Neteyam sighed. "Beautiful."

My eyes snapped wide open, and we stared at each other for a quiet moment.

"You think I'm beautiful?" I asked. Neteyam had never said anything like that to me before, and we had been what I would consider friends, for a while. Maybe not as good of friends as I was with Lo'ak, but still close.

It was quiet for just an awkward moment. "Do you think I'm funny?" Neteyam asked.

"Well... sometimes you are, yes," I replied, narrowing my eyes at his odd line of questioning.

"Do you think Lo'ak is funny?"

I could not help but smile, thinking about Lo'ak and I's conversation earlier that same day. "Sometimes he is. Well, sometimes he doesn't mean to be, but still is."

Neteyam frowned. Was Neteyam jealous of Lo'ak and I's friendship? That would come as a pleasant surprise to me.

"Lo'ak is funnier than you, Neteyam. But..." I cleared my throat and stepped forward. "You are more handsome than him. You are more thoughtful than him," I reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards me. "You are certainly kinder than him, and smarter too. Lo'ak is many wonderful things, and he is my friend, but I prefer you in many ways."

Neteyam's sad look softened into one that looked something like surprise, and maybe pleasure.

"Do you?"

"Yes. In fact, I was recently telling Lo'ak just how much... I prefer you."

Neteyam reached out with his other hand, putting it on my lower back, and I realized just how close were standing to one another. Practically nose to nose.

"I would like to kiss you, Y/N," Neteyam whispered, his warm breath on my face.

All I could do was nod. Very slowly, Neteyam leaned down and tenderly pressed his lips to mine, just for a few moments. When he pulled away, we were both grinning like fools.

"I would never, ever, ever want to do that with Lo'ak," I said, and Neteyam threw his head back and laughed.

Maybe I was funny enough for the both of us.

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

I was thinking, so before sebastian’s heat actually kicks in his bird side (since he’s a crow demon) will start to be more noticeable. Like when he’s doing his chores he’ll find like a shiny thing and take it to his room. So if you go into his room before his heat there are a lot of shiny things just sitting there.

Yess, ok honestly I think he’d make a lil nest in his room AND your room bc he wants two nest incase you have a large clutch this season (he completely forgets humans don’t lay eggs) and he sings to you on an almost daily basis.

Crows mate for life, making him extra protective of you when his mind is clouded in his pre-heat state.

Sebastian (preheat/inhuman behavior, slight implication of breeding)

-

You had a long day and wanted to sleep, but your bed was COVERED in blankets, pillows, feathers and…fur? You looked closer to see there were ‘fluffy’ clothes on your bed too. Your bed had none of these on it when you woke up this morning and there’s only one person who has access to your room!

“Sebastian!”

You shouted, intentionally sounding more upset than you actually were to get him to hurry to your side. Unsurprisingly he was standing beside you in a moment. “Yes Master? What’s wrong?” You gesture to the bed and Sebastian gives you a blank stare in response.

“Why is my bed covered in rubbish?” You huff out, walking over to your drawer, removing your necklace and rings, placing them ontop of the drawer, you weren’t gonna wear em to sleep. When you turned around, you saw Sebastian staring at the bed, looking a little offended by your remark.

“It’s not rubbish, it’s to soften the nest. It also helps retain heat so the eggs won’t get cold.” Sebastian says, turning back to you with a smile. You scowl back at him.

“Nest? Eggs??? What the hell are you talking about? Are you planning on getting chickens? Why would we keep them in my bed?” You shove the ‘rubbish’ off your bed and get onto it. “We are not turning my bed into an incubator!”

When you looked back to Sebastian, he’s glaring at the spot on the floor where you shoved his ‘nest’. He looks back to you with a crestfallen look. “They aren’t pets, they’d be our children…” You give him a confused look. You hear a low growl escape him when you start to pull apart the ‘nest’ on the floor. You feel an arm wrap around your waist and you’re pulled off of your own bed.

Before you can protest you’re placed in a chair and Sebastian is re organizing the nest, this time putting it on the edge of your bed. Sebastian turns to you, picking you backup and tucking you into your bed. You had enough room to sleep with the ‘nest’ in your bed, but it was less than comfortable.

Fuck it, you’ll sleep somewhere else tonight. Why not the couch? Haven’t slept there in a while, maybe it’s comfier than you remember?

You got up, walking back to your drawer, not taking your eyes off Sebastian. You go to grab your necklace from the drawer, but you felt nothing when your hand landed on the drawer. You look away from Sebastian to see that the jewelry you had half hazardly left on your drawer was gone…

“Sebastian.” You glared at him. “Where is my jewelry?” Sebastian huffed as if he was annoyed. “What are you upset about? It’s my jewelry!” You hiss at him, turning to face him only to see he’s five feet from your face.

“Oh Master…I apologize I grabbed it when I walked in here.” He holds out his hand, delicately handing it to you. “It was just so tempting to take it, my bad.”

You grabbed it from him and paused, staring up at Sebastian. “What the actual hell is wrong with you? You’ve never done this shit before but now you feel the need to act up?”

Sebastian gave you an innocent smile, lowering his head a bit. “But where will we keep our eggs if we don’t keep them here? We can protect them better here.” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you towards the bed.

You hiss at him. “I don’t know what you are talking about! Eggs go in the fridge, we,” You gesture between the two of you. “Don’t, and won’t have any eggs, understand?”

He looks surprised by your response and grumbles out something before speaking to you again. “But…it’s the best time to have them, besides-“ He pauses , shaking his head. “Oh that’s right, humans don’t go into heat, it’ll just be me…”

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I request JJK men doing kabedon on the reader?

‘I’m late! I’m late! I’m late!’ You curse in your head over & over as you try to rush down the hall. Like if you chanted it enough times it wouldn’t be true.

Your alarm hadn’t gone off, so you were running late to classes. Barely enough time to put yourself together and make it out the door. Yaga-sensei was going to kill.

“Hey [Y/N]!”

You were barely able to skid to a stop when Satoru came around the corner in front of your path. The grin on his face made it clear that this wasn’t a happy accident. He had been planning to ‘run into you’ there. “Not now Gojo! I’m going to be late!”

“Ehhh? You? Late? What’s the world coming to??”

You glare at Satoru and try to get past him quickly, but his long arm snatched you up and spun you around to pin you to the wall. “Hey now. What’s the rush? You’re already late, right?”

That grin on Satoru’s face never left. In fact, it crawled up higher as he leaned in closer to you. His lanky height towering over you as if he made it a point to use all of it against you. “I…I don’t want to be later than I already am.” Your face must have been beet red. It certainly felt hot.

Satoru hummed once, then seemed to take pity on you and let you go. Releasing you from the cage he had built for you and taking a step back. “Run along then, I guess. If you need a note from a teacher let me know.” He gave you a little wave, and another smirk, and you felt a shudder go up your spine before you sprinted off again. Arriving to class flushed, and not just from the run.

This was Toji’s favorite position to have you in. Except of course the ones where you are laying down.

His large body pinning you against the wall of the corridor. A wall of flesh. No, more than that. Walls were static and flat. Toji was more fluid. Like a cat, a big jungle cat. One of those big cats you had seen on TV in one of those nature documentaries. The ones that are just poised to strike their prey. Coiled back. All muscle and compressed energy. This tense in the air of waiting for them to strike, and that any sudden movement might trigger a response.

That was what you felt like pinned against the wall by Toji. He was the big cat waiting to strike, and you were his unwitting, but willing, pretty.

“You wanna get out of here?”

To entranced by the moment (the tension, his smell, those muscles) all you can do is nod. That was all it took for Toji to pounce on you. Finally landing his strike. Not taking you anywhere but right in the alley.

“Hey [Y/N]! Can you come over here? There’s something I need to show you.”

You perk up and look around the corner, just in time to see Yuji put his phone in his pocket, before coming into the room. “What’s up?”

“Can you stand over here please?” He seemed a little nervous, but no more nervous than his usual keyed-up-Yuji-energy. So you oblige. Your back at the wall and looking at him. “Now lace your fingers together like this.” You arch a brow but comply, mimicking his movements. “Ok. Now inside fingers up!” You do it and then Yuji reached forward with his hand, grabbed yours, and lifted you linked fingers and arms over your head. Pinning your arms above you. “W’as up?”

A blush tinted your cheeks for a second before you snickered and just full on started laughing.

“You’re not supposed to laugh!” Yuji whined. Looking crestfallen his smooth moves didn’t work on you. “It went better in the TikTok….”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You apologies. Pulling Yuji in close for a hug by the waist. His face heating up now. “It’s just funny that you did all that build up for that. I wasn’t laughing at you. Do you want to try again? I promise I won’t laugh this time.”

“N-No…I think I like this better.”

“….I don’t get it….”

You return Megumi’s frown. Apparently, he wasn’t seeing the fun in it. “It’s supposed to be sexy….”

When your friend told you about the little stun Yuji had tried to pull on them, of course you wanted to try it with Megumi. Besties sharing besties and bestie tactics was one of the fun parts of your relationship. But Megumi wasn’t Yuji. So you shouldn’t have expected him to be on board immediately.

“I just don’t think it’s very sexy.” He replied. Releasing you from your very loose pinning. “I just feel like I’m trying to crush you. Or intimidate you. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s not supposed to be ‘intimidating’.” Although you supposed that was sweet of him. Wanting to respect you and your space. “It’s supposed to be…sexy intimidating. You know, like dangerous.”

“Our lives aren’t dangerous enough?”

“Not like that.” This was getting a little exasperating. Finally you sighed and just announce, “here. Let me show you.” You quickly change places with Megumi, before he can object, and pin him against the wall. With your height difference you have to start with his shoulders, since you couldn’t just put your arm by his head like you’re supposed to, pressing them hard against the wall and letting him slump a little before putting your arm up beside his head. “See. Like that.”

Your boyfriend didn’t say anything. His eyes just a little wide. The tips of his ears a little pink, which was quickly flooding in on the rest of his face, before he brushed you off and stood upright again. “I…I think I get it now…”

You smirk at his reaction and ask him, “want to try it again a little later? Maybe in your bedroom? On your bed?”

“N-No!” He barked back. But his bravado quickly dissipated and he muttered, “….maybe…”

[merp-blerp]

A Gaylor Interpretation of "Champagne Problems" post TTPD

Overblown Analysis Under the Cut ↓

In my "I Look Through People's Windows" analysis, I mentioned that I wondered if the "As you boarded your train..." line had to do with "Champagne Problems" and its similar opening line, but figuring that out would mean doing a separate evaluation on it. Well, here you go! I promise I'll one day stop thinking about TTPD, okay? Scouts honor. 🤞😜

This one is mostly to quench my own intrigue, I'm aware it's a bit of a stretch.

"You booked the night train for a reason / So you could sit there in this hurt / Bustling crowds or silent sleepers / You're not sure which is worse"

While this might not be the lens Taylor and ✨William Bowery✨ wrote this song in, I wanted to try my hand at seeing this song through the eyes of being about Taylor's fandom(s). Based on my "ILTPW" analysis, gaylors are the ones boarding the train in her mind, sitting in their hurt from the fallout of the failed coming out. Taylor knows that the gaylors don't know what would be worse: if tons of other fans crowding them with "I told you so" type comments, "Bustling crowds", or people not even noticing/hearing the coming out attempts to sneer, "silent sleepers".

"Because I dropped your hand while dancing / Left you out there standing / Crestfallen on the landing / Champagne problems / Your mom's ring in your pocket / My picture in your wallet / Your heart was glass, I dropped it / Champagne problems"

Taylor feels like she abandoned her community by not coming out. She dropped their hand and left them disappointed. Champagne can symbolize celebration and eliteness, often associated with rich individuals, but has also been used to highlight the fakeness of its drinkers. Alexander Pushkin's novel, Eugene Onegin, quotes, "I am no longer up to champagne... (it is) sparkling, flighty, vivacious, wayward - and not to be trusted." Therefore the "Champagne problems" might be the issue of Taylor being a big star getting in the way of her being able to be out and human. Or just fakeness in general.

Rings have taken their spot in sapphic history, specifically signet pinky rings and thumb rings. Taylor has a very close relationship with her fans, them often joking, or even genuinely feeling as if Taylor's like a best friend, sister, or mother to them. "Your mom's ring in your pocket" could be Taylor illustrating gaylors as keeping Taylor's pinky or thumb ring, or her queerness, close in their pocket, as she isn't out and discussion of her possible queerness mostly stays in gaylor circles.

"My picture in your wallet" in this reading could be the money that fans spend on Taylor, whether it's albums, tours, merch, etc. If gaylors believe in Taylor, they might spend money on her, so she's in their wallet.

"You told your family for a reason / You couldn't keep it in / Your sister splashed out on the bottle / Now no one's celebrating / Dom Pérignon, you brought it / No crowd of friends applauded / Your hometown skeptics called it / Champagne problems / You had a speech, you're speechless / Love slipped beyond your reaches / And I couldn't give a reason / Champagne problems"

The "sister splash(ing) out on the bottle" through this lens to me could be fans adjacent to gaylors that aren't quite gaylors, like queer fans. Queer fans who quietly watched and noted Tay's flagging and waited to see if something would happen, only for nothing to transpire, so they moved forward with being fans. This would've included me at the time. "Splash out on the bottle" can mean to pay a lot of money for the bottle or to pop it open. I'm going to go with opening it in this situation. Through the lyrics, it seems like the "you" in this song brought the bottle of Dom Pérignon, and the "sister" opened it. Gaylors spread the word that Taylor could be coming out and casual queer fans opened the bottle to prepare to celebrate.

While gaylor discussion mostly stays in the community, gaylors have definitely attempted to discuss it in other swiftie, or "family", spaces. From our perspective, it's exciting to think about the queerness sprinkled in her songs, and while I admit that I wasn't fully here for it, I imagine the Lover era was particularly exciting. It looked like she was going to come out, flagging all too obvious for the fans to brush it off. You can't keep the excitement in. But a speech never happened and Taylor continued to beard, so in the public's eyes she's strictly straight somehow. She tried and arguably came out through visual means, but never got to say anything if she planned to (which I think she did because of "a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you" from "The Archer"), and socially, if you don't come out through words you aren't really out at all, flagging be damned. Either way, no one celebrated because no one heard. The gaylors might've geared up to celebrate, but no one could celebrate if Taylor remained unseen. Anti-gaylors, or "hometown skeptics" called the gaylor theories fake, or "Champagne problems", since no overt coming out happened. Any happy speech gaylors could say to Taylor congratulating her couldn't happen. The excitement for the love from fellow queers and allies coming Taylor's way through speeches of admiration after coming out slipped away beyond gaylor's reaches. And of course, Taylor couldn't tell gaylors directly why, as that would out her in an unwanted way.

"Your Midas touch on the Chevy door / November flush and your flannel cure"

The Midas line could be taken in so many ways. To focus on the Chevy for a moment, car imagery in Taylor's music often seems to be a mode of hiding, escaping/running away to hide, and by extension misbehaving or sinning. Take "Just a boy in a Chevy truck / That had a tendency of gettin' stuck / On backroads at night" illustrating Taylor and her lover driving out and pretending to get "stuck" on backroads so they can enjoy each other alone without naysayers. So if gaylors are the "you/your" of the song, them having a "Midas touch", aka a golden touch, could mean that gaylors acknowledged, or touched, Taylor's closet, and therefore made it golden, like daylight. A Midas touch turns things gold, so her closet/Chevy door wasn't golden like daylight before the "your" made it so. Their acknowledgment of her queerness made her feel seen, or at least less in the "20-year dark night" from "Daylight".

"November flush" to me is a reference to the "Grey November" from "Evermore". A person can flush from strong emotions, as well a sickness. "You're Losing Me" has many illusions of Taylor getting sick and dying from being unseen, her face becoming grey/colorless as she dies. But when you flush, color returns to your face. If Taylor was "down since July", or beginning to die from being unheard, she could be saying that she could be saved by a cure. The cure she seems to get is a "flannel cure". I've heard really interesting interpretations about this part of the line referencing a Victorian superstition about flannel having healing properties. This possibly means that several cures for her pain were tried, but nothing could be as helpful as being seen, the "flannel cure" being fake. However I can't find a source for this Victorian flannel fact that isn't someone talking about this song, so I'd take that with a grain of salt. (But I could've just overlooked it, so if someone has a source I'd love to see it.) Alternatively, flannels, in the modern age at least, are often associated with masculinity and men, but also sapphic flagging. Maybe the "flannel cure" was gaylors acknowledging her sapphicness. Or, if you take the cure as being false, it could be the bearding/closeting/men, fake because it didn't cure her queerness, or make her straight. It just made it more overt to those who can see it, as gaylors can often see through stunts with beards. I think it could be interesting to look at this phrase differently too. Was the flannel the cure or was the flannel cured? Is it that closeting was a fake cure or that gaylors had the cure for the pain of closeting by seeing her?

"'This dorm was once a madhouse' / I made a joke, 'Well, it's made for me'"

In TTPD, Taylor makes many references to the music industry being like an asylum or madhouse. In this line, Taylor jokes that the dorm, or industry, was once an asylum, made for someone like her. Maybe it's made for her 'cause a lot of people in the industry will have covert or public mental breakdowns that they don't get proper support for. Or it could be because she felt like music was a profession she was always meant to do since she was a tween. Or because she's queer, and while they're are many queer people in the industry, many have also been closeted by the industry since it began and still are. Maybe the joke says "once", as in past tense, because Taylor believed that once she was out the industry would stop being a madhouse for her, but she never got her proper cure, so going into TTPD, it's still an asylum.

"How evergreen, our group of friends / Don't think we'll say that word again"

There's probably debate on which word will never be said again. For this analysis, I'm going to go with "evergreen". Taylor seemed to have viewed her fans as friends just as they did her. Look at songs like "Long Live". She asked the fans to stand by her forever, like how evergreen trees keep their leaves in all weather, or forever. But after the failed coming out and so many fans denying her visibility, she can't say she and the gaylors's friendship with those types of fans is "evergreen" any longer. "Something counterfeit's dead" (from "loml").

"And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls / That we once walked through / One for the money, two for the show / I never was ready so I watch you go"

Some of Taylor's fans will come up with rather invasive theories about what her lyrics are about. Theories about her cheating, having secret children [Edit: I feel a need to say that by "secret children", I meant secret pregnancies, just to be clearer], having secret abortions, committing vehicular manslaughter, probably etc. In the Lover house her first 10 eras become literal halls (except for Midnights, which is depicted in the sky, and I personally like to say TTPD is the white porch with the lights). The phrase "Deck the halls" means to decorate the halls. She laments that ex "evergreen" "friends" will have the nerve to decorate the eras that she and the people who saw her once walked through with creepy theories.

The phrase "One for the money, two for the show," is cut short/replaced without the numbers three and four. The full phrase has multiple renditions, but it's generally a form of counting before an action is done, often ending with something like "Three to get ready, and four to go." If Taylor doesn't get to finish the countdown, it seems to mean that she didn't get to do her action: come out. She was never fully ready to do the action because obstacles like the master heist kept her from being able to do it the way she wanted. So she fears/watches gaylors board their trains away from her.

"Sometimes you just don't know the answer / 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you"

To me, as of currently, "How Did It End?" from TTPD is also in part about the failed coming out. In that song, Taylor admits that she still doesn't know exactly how the coming out didn't happen. Sure, she knows in a clinical sense, but sometimes you don't know emotionally. I find it noticeable that the someone in this line is on their knees, not knee. Traditionally, when one proposes, they get on only one knee. When a person is on both knees, that usually indicates deep desperation. Maybe the someone's are fans, likely of all kinds, desperately questioning why all the signs led to nowhere instead of a speech declaring her place in the queer community. How did it end?

"'She would've made such a lovely bride / What a shame she's fucked in the head,' they said"

Queer people throughout history and currently in some places are often seen by homophobes as having something wrong with them, whether it's just for taunting purposes or some genuinely believing queerness is a mental disorder. Homophobes often believe queer people are "fucked in the head".

When "they" say that "she", in this interpretation, Taylor, would've made such a lovely bride, they likely don't mean just a bride who gets married to anyone, but specifically a bride who marries a man. Certain types of homophobes won't call brides marrying non-men "lovely", sometimes not seeing them as legitimate brides at all. Heteronormative TS fans will often picture Taylor as being a "lovely bride" in the future, aka a straight bride because to them Taylor fits that hetero-girl image. If she were straight her hetero wedding would be seen as picture-perfect and idyllic. Too bad she might not be able to be that bride for them because she could be queer. While, again, I wasn't fully there during Lover, it's not hard to imagine homophobes saying things like this at the mere prospect of her being queer.

"But you'll find the real thing instead / She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred / And hold your hand while dancing / Never leave you standing / Crestfallen on the landing / With champagne problems / Your mom's ring in your pocket / Her picture in your wallet / You won't remember all my / Champagne problems / You won't remember all my / Champagne problems"

Taylor reminds queer fans that they can find "the real thing", or proudly out queer people, instead of her, someone who can't seem to leave the closet. That person won't fail them. Taylor's, or "your mom's", signet/thumb ring might stay in gaylors' pockets, as in they could still keep her potential queerness in the knowledge, but a new, out person should be the ones to have their money and time in Tay's eyes. One common critique towards gaylors is that we need to enjoy "actual" queer figures, these critique-ers not seeming to realize that many of us already do love many out queer figures, but that not meaning we can't acknowledge a potentially closeted one. Even still, Taylor seems to fear that her queer fans deserve better. "You should find another guiding light" (from "Dear Reader").

But as someone in the fandom, it's safe to say that gaylors won't be going away, even if most who were there from the beginning are gone now, new ones discover what this community truly is every day.

Thank you for reading!

[tea-blankets-andstars]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS IS THE MOST MARAUDERS ERA CODED SOMG EVER

allow me to elaborate

You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt, Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse - remus coming back to hogwarts in PoA

Because I dropped your hand while dancing, Left you out there standing, Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems. Your mom's ring in your pocket, My picture in your wallet, Your heart was glass, I dropped it. Champagne problems. - Sirius when remus thinks hes the traitor

You told your family for a reason, You couldn't keep it in- Regulus talking abt him & james

Your sister splashed out on the bottle- petunia 

Now no one's celebrating- the events of oct 31, 1981

Dom Pérignon, you brought it- griffindore party

No crowd of friends applauded- the prank

Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems- sirius family abt him

You had a speech, you're speechless, Love slipped beyond your reaches- jily

And I couldn't give a reason. Champagne problems- peter when hes asked why he betrayed james & lily

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door, November flush and your flannel cure- wolfstar

"This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"- the marauders

How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again, And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through- the skittles

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go- reg about siri

Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you- reg right before he dies

"She would've made such a lovely bride What a shame she's fucked in the head, " they said- lilys family about pandora

But you'll find the real thing instead, She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred- reg after james breaks ip with him after he gets the dark mark and starts dating lily

And hold your hand while dancing, Never leave you standing, Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems- remus after he learns sirius was innocent

Your mom's ring in your pocket, Her picture in your wallet, You won't remember all my Champagne problems- sirius watching over remus after he dies

You won't remember all my Champagne problems- the legacy they all left behind 

[spicerackofblorbos]

It's the dead of summer where I'm at, which means blasting music with my windows down and singing at the top of my lungs!! While I do so, I can't help but feel inspired by the songs on my playlist. So let's make an event about it!!

To keep the pressure off of me, I will be doing drabbles with moodboards based on the character voted on for each song I've chosen - instead of making it a request-like event.

I will be doing one song at a time, and for each song, I will give you a poll with some character options for you to choose from that you would like to see the drabble and moodboard about. All you need to do is go to the poll and vote!! I'll take care of the rest.

Under here will be the list of songs with a few lyrics and a link to the poll associated with it (when it's ready!)

When the fic/moodboard is done, I will link it on the song title!! Make sure to keep an eye out for updates.

(if you would like to be tagged in the fic/drabble, please comment on the poll post. also feel free to add comments in the poll post of what you might want to see with the character you voted, I might add those into the drabble/moodboard!)

𔓘 Stargazing - The Neighbourhood*

Push until it pops, tryna clear my thoughts Better keep the ac on for me, not enough. Windows start to fog, clothin' coming off Making it too hot, you got me thinking Pull it out of park, put it in drive I can feel your heart beatin’ with mine. Underneath the stars, lookin' for a sign Glowin' in the dark til the sun shines.

character poll

𔓘 Struck By Lightning - Cavetown

It's storming out, maybe you should come inside And tell me why you don't wanna be alive. If you don't respond, I'll put my shoes on And lay down on the pavement next to you If we get struck, at least we'll make the news.

character poll

𔓘 Stupid In Love - MAX ft. HUH YUNJIN

Let's get married in Vegas We don't need guest list I don't wanna think too much Let's get matching tattoos I don't wanna think it through Baby, I'm so stupid in love

character poll

𔓘 Lover - Taylor Swift

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever?

character poll

𔓘 Enchanted - Taylor Swift

Your eyes whispered, "Have we met?" 'Cross the room your silhouette Starts to make its way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks Like passing notes in secrecy

character poll

𔓘 New Years Day - Taylor Swift

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before

character poll

𔓘 Labyrinth - Taylor Swift

Uh oh, I'm falling in love Oh no, I'm falling in love again Oh, I'm falling in love I thought the plane was going down How'd you turn it right around

character poll

𔓘 Invisible String - Taylor Swift

And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

character poll

𔓘 Champagne Problems - Taylor Swift

Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems

character poll

𔓘 So High School - Taylor Swift

I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school (I feel so high school) Every time I look at you

character poll

𔓘 Lavender Haze - Taylor Swift

Meet me at midnight Starin' at the ceilin' with you Oh, you don't ever say too much And you don't really read into My melancholia

character poll

𔓘 I Can See You - Taylor Swift

I could see you in your suit and your necktie Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight" Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell, yeah And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission Hide away and I will start behaving myself

character poll

𔓘 Delicate - Taylor Swift*

Third floor on the West Side, me and you Handsome, you're a mansion with a view Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

character poll

𔓘 My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski

My baby, here on earth Showed me what my heart was worth So, when it comes to be my turn Could you shine it down here for her?

character poll

*asterisk = n.sfw

[taylorswiftandx]

Taylor Swift and Alcoholic Beverages

‘Taylor Swift’

(no alcoholic beverages)

'Fearless (Taylor’s Version)’

(no alcoholic beverages))

'Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)’

(no alcoholic beverages)

'Red (Taylor’s Version)’

(no alcoholic beverages)

'1989 (Taylor’s Version)’

Clean: You’re still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can’t wear anymore

'reputation’

End Game: It’s like your eyes are liquor, it’s like your body is gold

Delicate: We can’t make any promises, now can we, babe, but you can make me a drink

Gorgeous: Whiskey on ice, Sunset and Vine, you’ve ruined my life by not being mine

Getaway Car: I knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed

King Of My Heart: Up on the roof with a schoolgirl crush, drinking beer out of plastic cups

Dress: I’m spilling wine in the bathtub, you kiss my face and we’re both drunk

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Everyone swimming in a champagne sea

'Lover’

Paper Rings: The wine is cold like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

Cornelia Street: We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

Death By A Thousand Cuts: My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust, trying to find a part of my you didn’t take up

London Boy: And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey

False God: Make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness, got the wine for you

You Need To Calm Down: You are somebody that I don’t know, but you’re taking shots at me like it’s Patrón

'folklore’

the 1: Rosé flowing with your chosen family

the last great american dynasty: Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names

august: August sipped away like a bottle of wine 'cause you were never mine

this is me trying: Pouring out my heart to a stranger but I didn’t pour the whiskey

'evermore’

willow: Lost in your current like a priceless wine

champagne problems: Left you out there standing crestfallen on the landing, champagne problems

champagne problems: Your heart was glass, I dropped it, champagne problems

champagne problems: Dom Pérignon, you brought it, no crowd of friends applauded

champagne problems: Your hometown skeptics called it, champagne problems

champagne problems: And I couldn’t give a reason, champagne problems

champagne problems: Never leave you standing crestfallen on the landing with champagne problems

champagne problems: You won’t remember all my champagne problems

no body, no crime: We meet up every Tuesday night for dinner and a glass of wine

no body, no crime: She says, “That ain’t my merlot on his mouth”

ivy: Or dare to sit and watch what we’ll become, and drink my husband’s wine

closure: I’m fine with my spite and my tears and my beers and my candles

'Midnights’

Maroon: You say, “Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé, that’s how”

Maroon: The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

Question…?: It was one drink after another

Mastermind: I’m the wind in our free-flowing sails and the liquor in our cocktails

Paris: Stumble down pretend alleyways, cheap wine, make believe it’s champagne

Paris: ‘Cause we were somewhere else, in an alleyway, drinking champagne

Dear Reader: I prefer hiding in plain sight, my fourth drink in my hand

'The Tortured Poets Department’

But Daddy I Love Him: All the wine moms are still holding out, but fuck them, it's over

Florida!!!: Barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine

The Alchemy: These chemicals hit me like white wine

The Alchemy: Beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted 'cause they said there was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league

imgonnagetyouback: Standing at the bar like something's funny, bubbly

I Look in People's Windows: They have their friends over to drink nice wine

Other Songs written by Taylor

(no alcoholic beverages)

Official Alternate Releases

Maroon (Clean Version): You say, “Your roommate’s cheapest screw-top rosé, that’s how”

But Daddy I Love Him (Clean Version): All the wine moms are still holding out, but it's over

[halaxia]

𓇢𓆸 ever and evermore

❧ welcome to my evermore event!

❧ i will be posting works inspired by songs from taylor swift’s evermore with one song for each character i most associate them with.

❧ this event is multifandom and contains character(s) from jujutsu kaisen, spy x family, bleach, bungo stray dogs, obey me, my hero academia, chainsaw man, death note, and attack on titan.

❧ all works for this event will come under the hashtag #ೄྀ࿐ evermore ˊˎ- for easy navigation :)

❧ if you would like to be tagged under any (or all) works for this event, let me know either with an ask, dm, or in the comments <3

❧ willow — nanami kento | “i’m begging for you to take my hand, wreak my plans, that’s my man.”

❧ champagne problems — loid forger | “left you out there standing crestfallen on the landing, champagne problems.”

❧ gold rush — kurosaki ichigo | “i don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘till the bones crush; everybody wants you, but i don’t like a gold rush.”

❧ ‘tis the damn season — itadori yuji | “it always leads to you in my hometown.”

❧ tolerate it — akutagawa ryunosuke | “i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it.”

❧ no body, no crime — todoroki touya | “but i ain’t letting up until the day i die.”

❧ happiness — hirofumi yoshida | “haunted by the look in my eyes that would have loved you for a lifetime.”

❧ dorthea — fushiguro megumi | “and if you’re ever tired of being known for who you know, you know, you always know me.”

❧ coney island — yagami light | “sorry for not making you my centrefold.”

❧ ivy — gojo satoru | “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand; taking mine, but it’s been promised to another.”

❧ cowboy like me — mammon | “takes one to know one; you’re a cowboy like me.”

❧ long story short — okkotsu yuta | “long story short, it was a bad time; long story short, i survived.”

❧ marjorie — geto suguru | “…cause every scrap of you would be taken from me.”

❧ closure — roronoa zoro | “it’s been a long time; and seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain.”

❧ evermore — hayakawa aki | “can’t not think of all the cost; and the things that will be lost.”

❧ right where you left me — eren yeager | “everybody moved on; i, i stayed there.”

❧ it’s time to go — jean kirschtein | “when keeping it how it is will only break their hearts worse.”

[lipslikethegardensofbabylon]

#ttpd analysis day twelve - loml

when i first listened through TTPD this gave me such strong track 5 vibes so for that reason it’s an honorary track 5 in my mind

there are a couple of thoughts on the lowercase loml - i keep these longings locked in lowercase could be one, but one thing that sticks out to me throughought the whole album is we never see any muse directly saying to the narrator “I love you”. to say ‘you’re the love of my life’ is sort of a roundabout way of saying it, but it carrieds less weight, like saying “I got love for you” vs “I love you”. the latter means more. it’s also interesting to note given that the opening track says repeatedly “I love you, it’s ruining my life"

there are salient Dancing With Our Hands Tied parallels -

who’s gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames if we know the steps anyway/we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied

when your impressionist paintings of heaven turned out to be fakes/deep blue, but you painted me golden

stitching “we were just kids, babe”/25 years old, how were you to know?

our field of dreams engulfed in fire/swaying as the room burned down

what we thought was for all time was temporary/could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets

if you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary/first sight, yeah we love without reason

I know that pulling parallels from DWOHT/rep may ruffle some feathers but she also says a conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme which directly pulls from Why She Disappeared - wary of phone calls and promises, charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes.

the never quite buried line immediately made me think of the 1, in my defense, I have none for digging up the grave another time .basically that the narrator can't fully separate themselves from this destructive force, and it shows that they've tried, repeatedly, historically.

along with the 1, there are other lyrics from folkmore that are very reminiscent of loml -

I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed/eyes full of stars (cowboy like me)

I felt aglow like this/your touch brought forth an incandescent glow (ivy)

if you know it in one glimpse, it’s legendary/it’s born from just one single glance...you said I’m the love of your life about a million times/but it dies and it dies and it dies a million little times (illicit affairs)

when your impressionist paintings of Heaven turned out to be fakes/ you paint dreamscapes on the wall (peace)

our field of dreams, engulfed in fire/my barren land, I am ash from your fire (hoax)

talking rings and talking cradles/your mom's ring in your pocket… dancing phantoms on the terrace/left you out there standing crestfallen on the landing (champagne problems)

the other line that i love is and all at once, the ink bleeds. it makes me think of two things:

in that Directors interview she talked about how having something poignant happen to you is great for creative work but if you write about it too soon/without processing it fully, you can lose perspective. so it makes me think of that, but with the sharp pen, thin skin, and open heart.

[softandwigglybones]

Another story!

I'd like to thank @irlactualhuman for help with editing

(you can also read it here, if tumblr is being weird)

Lost

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house. It was a simple building, sturdy and stout. Like a single Centurion standing watch over the land, it loomed high above me. Already weary from my journey, I nonetheless stepped forth towards it, pushing the last dregs of my energy and willpower into my heavy legs. Each step more difficult than the last, my breath ragged and dry, I climbed the hill the house was built upon. At last, with one more exertion of will, I arrived. Crawling the last few metres to the doorstep, I knocked and rested at last.

The weathered door opened with a rusty creak. There in the doorway stood the Farmer. He looked at me, looked through me into my very core, and judged me with his piercing eyes. At last, he spoke: “Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” my voice whispered, barely audible in my exhaustion. I said the only thing I could, the truth.

Fortunately, it seemed to be enough. The Farmer took me in, and with a thankful nod, I accepted. Before I could get settled in or even properly look around, though, he immediately started to teach me his art. I learnt how to read the seasons and the weather so as to sow crops at just the right time and conditions, as well as when to reap them. I learnt to take care of them, to know when they needed watering and when fertilising, as well as how to ward off pests of all kinds, from the smallest critters like bugs and rodents to bigger threats like boars and deer. I also learnt to harvest, not just to gather my crops but also how to properly prepare and store them.

I learnt a lot, but while I appreciated the art, my heart wasn’t in it. I could see it on the Farmer’s face. Perhaps he didn’t smile through all the work, but despite that, there was passion in him. In me, a void. So, when the final hour came and the Farmer had imparted me all the knowledge he could, I wasn’t surprised with what he said. Nay, I expected it.

“You’re no Farmer,” he proclaimed and said farewell.

I was crestfallen, but used to it. So I bid my farewell as well and took off once more. Another journey lay in front of me, another walk without a name. Perhaps the next one would be the one, and if not, then the one after that. I left the Farmer behind.

It didn’t take long for me to wander off the trodden path and get lost. I walked and I wondered, but no matter what happened, I couldn’t find my way back. So I simply roamed, drifting as a raft at sea. I walked, but a thick and heavy fog obscured my sight in all directions. I walked, but a dense forest stood in my path no matter which way I turned. I walked and walked until at last the path was clear and my own nature was not all that beckoned me onwards.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house. It was a simple building, nothing much to it. I looked up at it up on the lonely hill and knew it was my destination. With exhaustion creeping in, I carefully laid one foot in front of the other, slowly making my way up. Just as my willpower was about to run dry, I made it and knocked.

Behind the door stood the figure of the Baker. His eyes glanced over my worn-out body, and then he asked, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” I said as loud as I could, but with honesty.

To my luck, it was good enough. The Baker invited me inside and got right down to teaching me his art. I did the best I could. Learning to mix dough, as well as how to knead it. How to heat the oven and knowing precisely for how long to leave the dough inside. But then I had to learn how to do it all in large quantities while maintaining quality. And then learning how to do all this effectively and efficiently.

I saw the beauty in it, in the art of baking, but my spirit did not. For the Baker it was a passion; for me, work. So it came to be that as I learnt the last of what I could be taught, I already knew the proclamation that would follow.

“You’re no Baker,” he spoke my fate.

Once more, it weighed heavy on me, but once more I went on. I bid the Baker farewell and left for another journey, another chance. Next time, or the one after that.

Despite my hope, I once more found myself straying. Straying off the path, straying from my destination, straying from my goals. With no house, with no one, to guide me, I didn’t know where to go. Which way to go. But then the dark forest opened up, and a new guiding light came into my path.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house. A simple building with nothing much to it. Exhaustion already seeping deep into my bones, I approached and, with the last of my strength, knocked and then waited.

At last, the Hunter opened. As soon as he spotted me, he asked, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” I replied out of breath, but honestly still.

He invited me in and soon after began to teach me the skills of his art. From him, I learnt how to take care of the wildlife, as well as how to sneak around and manage it when necessary. I also learnt to take care of my tools, to keep them always efficient.

In the end, while I’d learnt the hunter’s art, I couldn’t replicate a Hunter’s grace. And when the Hunter showed me the last of his skills, he knew it too.

“You’re no Hunter,” the Hunter said to me.

I knew it was coming, but it hit me all the same. I said goodbye, and not longer after I was off once more.

Ignoring much of what I’d just learnt, I got lost once again. Alone again, deep in the dark woods, I dared not call for help. And so I waited, waited and searched until a lucky break brought me out.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house. A simple building up on a lonely hill. I approached, tired as I was, and knocked.

The Builder opened and asked me, “Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” I said simply.

Soon after, I was inside his house, and the Builder began to teach. Teach how to build houses and how to lay bricks so that they don’t collapse under their own weight.

But while the Builder built homes, I built houses. And he knew this all too well.

“You’re no Builder,” he decided.

The effect was the same as always, numbed as I had become. We parted, and I didn’t look back.

Again, I tried to follow the path as best I could, but somehow I found myself off it one more time. So I persevered like usual, and again I found something new.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house. I approached the simple building and knocked.

“Who are you?” asked the Carpenter.

“I don’t know,” I replied.

To my luck, he took me in. I learnt much from him, how to carve wood into the artwork it desired to be.

Still, I never quite managed to get the essence of it.

“You’re no Carpenter.”

The familiar words rang through my mind as I said goodbye and left.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house. I approached and knocked.

“Who are you?” said the Smith.

“I don’t know,” said I.

I was invited in all the same, and the Smith taught me all he could about moulding the earth’s veins.

But the metal did not yield to me.

“You’re no Smith.”

I thanked him and left for greener pastures.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house.

“Who are you?” the Tanner.

“I don’t know.”

He taught me about the art of hides, about the skin of animals past.

Not enough.

“You’re no tanner.”

And so I left.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house.

“Who are you?” the Tailor.

“I don’t know.”

I was taught all he could teach me.

I failed.

“You’re no Tailor.”

I left.

Over and over, again and again. I clawed my way out of foggy forests and tried to learn, but it never worked out. Time and again I tried to mimic, to fit in, to be what was asked of me, but time and again the message was clear. Without heart, without soul, without spirit, I could not do it. Cycle after cycle, attempt after attempt. But the result remained the same. No, no, no. Those were the words most familiar to me. I had to end it, to break out of this loop. I had to put a stop to this. And then, out of nowhere, something new appeared.

Far in the distance, I spotted a lone house...

[zoeyslament]

On “Perfect” Couples

If there’s one thing Estelle hates, it’s when she and Zoey fight

—————————————————————————

“Someone seems happy.” Zoey set down her bag, untying her green work apron. Estelle was sitting on a barstool at their kitchen counter, grinning and kicking her feet like a small child. It was nearly eight pm, and the sun was already creeping lower and lower in the sky. Now that Zoey was home from a double shift at Beanies, Estelle would finally get to enjoy her favorite time of day.

“Maybe just a little.” She admitted shyly. “Can you please change? I wanna cuddle.”

“Oh, that’s what you’re after.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “Clingy piece of shit.”

“Am not!” Estelle flies to her feet, swift and graceful, like a little bird. “You said we could cuddle tonight, you promised, Zoey, come on!” She grabbed onto Zoey’s arm, holding onto it tightly like a vine around a tree trunk. “Please?”

Zoey threw her off. “Not now. Go away, Estelle, I can’t do the baby talk. Don’t you have cats to feed or something?”

Clearly, work had not been pleasant. Estelle smiled lightly and this time tugged on Zoey’s hand.

“Come onnnnn, babe! Upstairs! Cuddle time!”

“Oh, a whiner, too?” Zoey’s fist clenched. “Listen, Estelle, it’s been a long fucking day and I cannot put up with you acting so fucking childish. Go to bed, I’m taking a shower.”

Estelle was stunned. They’d been dating for nearly a year and Zoey had never snapped at her for something so little. They’d had their arguments, their fair share of ups and downs, but with most of those, she knew she’d genuinely done something wrong. She was just trying to be sweet.

Zoey stormed off into the bathroom, leaving Estelle standing in the kitchen, crestfallen. The least she could do was head to bed, she supposed.

The rush of hot water hitting Zoey’s bare body was a relief. The stress and frustration of the day washed off her with ease as she breathed in the warm vapor. Her hair was fine without a wash, so she turned so her body was facing the shower, letting the droplets coat her chest and stomach. In all the pleasure of a nice wash, she almost forgot that she’d left her partner alone downstairs.

It wasn’t Zoey’s fault she snapped sometimes–the girl was 22 and basically running a coffee shop, for goodness’ sake! Estelle’s constant clinginess and relentless need for attention were a lot, especially for someone who wasn’t great at showing her emotions. Still, a pang of guilt hit her as she turned the water off and wrapped up in a towel. By the time she was fully dry, she was really feeling like shit about what she’d said. She threw on a soft t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, before venturing down the hallway. She winced, her ears quickly met with the sound of Estelle’s gentle, controlled, yet very audible crying. She opened the door, stepping in with grace, but the moment she entered, Estelle turned away. 

“Baby…” Zoey reached out to her. Estelle crossed her arms, sucking back tears.

“Estelle, I’m sorry.” No reply. 

“Come on, Estelle, don’t be like that!” Nothing.

“Estelle?” Silence.

Zoey sighed. You really fucked up this time, haven’t you? She’s the only person who loves you because you’re you, not just because you’re sexy or have big boobs. And you make her feel like a worthless piece of garbage. Shameful. 

She lay down on the bed, landing on her side, eyes fluttering shut. Soon enough, though, the familiar feeling of Estelle nuzzling into her body made itself clear. She could sense Estelle’s breaths start to come slower and softer, relaxing against her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Mhm.”

“I love you.”

“Mhm.”

“Tired already?”

Silence. Zoey kissed her girlfriend on the top of her head, lips supple against the nest of ginger curls.