#LIKE LOOK UP THE LYRICS FOR THE FULL SONG

[onlyheluvsme]

Girl I’ve been thinkin sooo much about the entries in Ellie’s journal and 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 can you pls write reader finding some nsfw drawings or entries in her journal?

my mind also likes to wander and think of all the things ellie must put in there as someone who also keeps a journal. id like to think she would fill it with song lyrics she would find, what she would imagine planets to look like close up, omg i cant shes fucking adorable.. thank you for this anon!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ naked in her journal ࿐ྂ

˗ˏˋellie smut/fluff!!´ˎ˗ mdni, lowercase intended, bestfriend!ellie, loser!ellie, fluff/smut *ೃ༄pls leave reqs!!

headphones sat on ur head as you laid on ellie's bed waiting for her to get back from patrol. you knew her entire schedule by heart and since you had an extra key to joel's garage and currently ellie's bedroom, you felt no shame as her best friend waiting for her in her room slightly earlier than needed.

it had been a long day and you desperately needed your best friend. no one understood you like ellie did, always listening so intently to the issues you had. you listened to some track ellie had already set in her cassette tape, something joel had given her when you hear a thud.

eyes shooting open, your hands remove the headphones and you sit up inspecting the noise. jackson was relatively safe but you still worried about something making it through those walls.

"ellie? joel?" you called out to the empty room, your eyes scanning each corner to find the window open, a breeze coming through, and a book that had sat on the ledge now on the floor.

with a roll of your eyes and a sigh, you rise from her bed the feeling leaving you cold and make your way to close the window. with a heavy push, you manage to close the rusty thing and lean down to pick up the object that had fallen.

what looked like some kind of notebook stared back at you, the name 'ellie' written across the front in large block letters. what was this? you didn't realize ellie kept a journal and you'd known ellie since the day she and joel walked into jackson.

your eyes shot to the garage door, then to the half-working clock ellie kept next to her bed, and finally back down to the journal in your hands. you had probably five minutes before ellie walked through that door huffing about how annoying jesse had been today.

you bit your lip, slightly in guilt but also in excitement. of course you knew it was wrong to go through your best friends most important thoughts. yet everything in your body was telling you just to take one peek. how would she ever know?

caving into your thoughts, you flip open to a random page somewhere in the middle, 'june thirteenth' it reads across the top right corner. you giggle at the chicken-scratch that is ellie's handwriting.

you read about her day with joel, raiding some pharmacy that probably had nothing left to give anyway. mindlessly, you flip the page to find something drastically different from her takes on joel's horrible jokes making you pause.

the page you find, well what spans across two pages are different drawings. they scatter from one side of the notebook to the other, they're all different but all the same; each of them depicts you. ellie had drew you in various positions, yet in every single one of them you were completely bare.

your eyes were wide as you scanned each and every drawing. there was not a single part of you that felt disgusted or uncomfortable, only a heat began to pool between your thighs. she likes me back.

every image she drew was different from the next, a few of your full body laid out on what seems to be her bed, completely bare in different positions; splayed out on your back with two fingers curled into ur glistening cunt and your face in a moan, your ass in the air and head to the bed cunt being spread by two very familiar fingers.

some of them were more close up images, the tinier details. your eyes caught one of your tits, every detail exactly perfect down to the beauty mark that she definitely shouldn't know about. had my ellie taken a peek during one of our sleepovers?

your eyes find another one, this time its your back and ass on display, then another, your neck stretched back.

"fucking hell ellie" you whisper into the book, flicking through more pages of your naked body, completely engrossed in her beautiful drawings.

she notices that? you note as your eye catches one of your smile, a little higher on the left side.

you don't hear the door open or ellie's whisper of a "fuck" when she sees you on her bed, specifically when she sees what's in your hands. all of a sudden the journal is ripped from your hands, head shooting up so fast it's a surprise you didn't hurt your neck.

"ellie-" you attempt with no success as her babbling starts.

"you weren't supposed to see that, fuck! please don't hate me or think i'm weird, i promise i don't mean anything weird by it! i honestly didn't realize what i was drawing till i was done! no- wait- that sounds bad-" you cut off her babbling with a hand to her mouth.

"ellie, shut up" you smile as you look into her eyes, filled with fear and embarrassment. once you're sure she won't continue her nonsense, you remove your hand from her mouth.

slowly taking the journal from her shaking hands, you place it onto her bed and turn back to your nervous best friend.

"ellie?" you look at her freckled face.

"y-yeah?" her cheeks a shade of pink,

one of your hands goes up to brush a stray auburn lock behind her redden ear and her eyes go wide at the act this situation going completely different from when it did in her head,

"you wanna touch me ellie?" you innocently question her, pulling lightly on her earlobe as you watch her eyes flutter and jaw go slack.

she gives you a mindless nod in response, completely in shock by the entire situation. you don't find her repulsive? weird?

your eyes catch one of her pencils on her desk and a new idea sparks. with a new excitement you turn around grabbing ellie's journal and walk over to her desk, taking the pencil.

you turn to find her eyes watching you curiously, still in her clothes from patrol, shaky hands at her sides. walking over to her, you place the two objects in her hand and grab her desk chair rolling it up to her bed.

ellie watches you with confusion as you sit on her bed, her desk chair a few feet in front of you,

"c'mere" you pat the desk chair, signaling her to sit in it.

hesitantly, ellie walks over and sits in the chair, her journal and pencil between her sweating hands. when you could see her begin to get anxious, you slowly begin pulling the strap of your tank top down your arm. her eyes catch it immediately.

"here's what we're going to do ellie..." you speak seductively as you slowly remove your shirt; ellie's brain began to short circuit at the sight,

"you're going to open that journal of yours and draw pretty pictures of me and I'm going to make myself come." her wide eyes shot to yours in shock.

when ellie first starting drawing you, after years of imagining what you might look like in those delicious positions, she thought you would find her completely repulsive. she never thought this would be the reaction she got and fuck did she feel so blessed.

ellie couldn't move, frozen in her spot as she watched you slowly removed each article of clothing. first your top then your shorts leaving you in only a lace bra and panties. she held her breath watching you remove your bra, tits bouncing with their release.

"fuck" ellie whispers, chest heaving.

you continue with your show, slowly laying back onto her bed as your hands come down to slide off your panties.

"better start drawing baby" you tell her, spreading your legs to give her a perfect view of your soaked cunt and ellie loses it.

"fuck, please let me touch you" she leans forward, hands reaching towards you but your foot comes out and presses into her chest stopping her.

"draw." is all you give her as you push her back into the chair with your foot, re-spreading your legs, and dragging your hand slowly down your body until it reaches your aching clit.

ellie's eyes catch each movement as she fumbles with her pencil and journal. not once looking at the objects as her hand starts rapidly drawing across the page, no her eyes stayed on your fingers and cunt the entire time.

[ellie masterlist]

a/n: should i do a part ii ???

[dollyfiles]

darling!reader surprising bsf!rafe with a handmade gift

darling!reader mlist

cw: fluff, teasing banter, explicit language

the second you heard the familiar rumble of rafe’s truck pulling up outside, you bolted out your front door, practically hopping down the steps two at a time. the night was already warm, the air sticky with that salty sunmer heat, but you barely noticed — you were buzzing with excitement.

you clutched the little paper bag to your chest, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. you had been dying all day to give this to him, even though you pretended to act casual in your texts — “nothing big lol” you’d written, as if you hadn’t spent hours stitching and re-stitching every detail.

rafe was leaned back in the driver’s seat, one arm casually hanging over the wheel, the other scrolling through his phone. when he looked up and caught sight of you practically skipping toward the truck, he smirked like he already knew you were up to something.

you already yanked the passenger door open before he could even lean over to unlock it—even though he always did, like clockwork. “what’s with the face?” he teased, glancing over at you with that easy, lazy smirk he reserved just for you.

you practically dove into the passenger seat, tossing your tote bag down between you two. “i have something for you.” rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “oh, god. is it contagious?”

“idiot..” you shook your head playfully, giggling as you shoved the bag into his lap. “just open it.”

he gave you a dramatic sigh, like you were such a burden, but the way he was already tugging the bag open betrayed him. you watched, practically vibrating with anticipation as he pulled out the dark blue baseball cap.

he turned it over in his hands, brows knitting together like he was trying to figure it out. across the front it read, in your slightly imperfect but charming embroidery:

north carolina.

classic, easy. something he’d actually wear.

rafe smirked, but when he flipped it over, his thumb caught on the tiny, hand-stitched lyrics along the back strap:

“take a bite of my heart tonight.”

your stupid, favorite song — animals by neon trees — the one you always blasted at full volume at two in the morning with the windows down, screaming the lyrics into the night like maniacs.

you couldn’t help yourself, you were was already bouncing in your seat, waiting for his reaction. but when rafe went quiet for a second, your heart nearly cracked in half. was he about to hate it? was it too much?

rafe sat back, twirling the hat on his finger with a completely unreadable face. then he let out a very fake, very loud groan.

“ugh,” he finally said, dragging the word out dramatically, setting the cap on his knee. “this is ugly as shit,” he announced flatly.

your face fell for a good 5 seconds. “rafe!” you gasped, hitting his shoulder, “you liar, don’t even—”

“i mean…” he tugged the hat low over his messy hair, looking at you sideways. “you spelled ‘north carolina’ right, so, like… that’s a win for you.”

you smacked his arm hard, making him laugh — really laugh, that rare full-body kind where his head tipped back against the seat and he barely caught his breath.

“you are such a jerk,” you said, but you were laughing too, cheeks burning, heart flipping in your chest.

“yeah, but i’m a jerk with a sick new hat,” he said, readjusting it so it sat backwards on his head, the lyrics facing out. he pulled down the sun visor to check himself in the mirror, grinning at his reflection. “this is fire. like you really made this?”

you practically melted into your seat, “you like it?”

“like it?” rafe asked, chrcking himself out. he tilted his head toward you, flashing that smile — the one that could knock the air out of your lungs if you weren’t careful. “i’m gonna wear this every damn day.”

you made a little squealing sound and bounced in your seat, unable to hide how thrilled you were. you reached over and fixed the way the cap sat, fingers brushing his hairline.

and then rafe caught your hand before you could pull away, twisting your fingers together for a second. his touch was rough but warm, and lingering. his thumb stroked the back of your hand once, then twice, slower than necessary.

it sent a shiver straight down your spine.

but neither of you said anything about it. just like always.

“seriously,” he said, voice softer now, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips for a split second before he grinned again. “best gift i’ve ever gotten.

you ducked your head, cheeks burning, but you didn’t pull your hand away just yet. you didn’t want to. and neither did he.

the moment stretched—long enough to feel it, to know it—but then rafe squeezed your hand once and let go, tapping the bill of his new hat.

“c’mon,” he said, that familiar teasing glint back in his eye. “let’s go show off how good i look and make top and kelce jealous.”

you sat back in your seat, cheeks still burning, heart thudding a little too hard, trying not to smile too much as rafe drove you two towards the country club, his brand-new hat proudly perched on his head.

tags: @inbred-eater @dearapril @rafecami @isasweetie @beausling @rafesheaven @rafesbowbunny @rafesangelita @drewsephrry @rafessecret @littlelamy @sturn777 @bradshawed @cherrygirlfriend @trusweethrt @inspiredangel @whinyangel @et6rnalsun @luckycrys @bluemerakis @rafeysbangs @lacyydollette @nemesyaaa @bruisedfig @tinythebunni @rcsbabydoll

[paucubarsisimp]

singing

pairing: pablo gavi x reader, pedri x reader, terran torres x reader, pau cubarsí x reader, hector fort x reader, alejandro balde x reader, lamine yamal x reader

summary: dancing to your favourite songs with your boyfriend

warnings: none

୨ৎ pablo gavi - love story

the kitchen smelled like garlic and fresh basil as you stirred the sauce, humming along to love story by taylor swift. the familiar tune played softly in the background, filling the space with warmth.

pablo, who had been chopping vegetables, paused when he heard the first few notes. his face lit up with recognition. "wait, is this love story?" he asked, a playful grin spreading across his face.

you nodded, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "yeah, it's one of my favorites." the chorus kicked in, "romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone," and you couldn’t resist—your feet started moving, swaying to the beat.

pablo laughed, shaking his head. "i didn’t take you for a romantic, but i guess i was wrong." he set down his knife and pulled you into a slow twirl, joining you in your impromptu kitchen dance. "let's go, let’s make this a real dance."

you giggled, moving with him, "it's a love story, baby, just say, 'yes,'" the lyrics echoing in your mind as you spun around together. you felt like you were in your own little world, the rest of the kitchen disappearing as the music and his smile took over.

he twirled you again, your laughter filling the space. "i don't think i've ever danced in a kitchen before, but i'm not mad about it," he said, grinning as you both moved in time with the music.

“so i sneak out to the garden to see you” played, and you noticed pablo sneakily trying to taste the sauce. you shot him a playful glare. "not yet, mister! that’s for the pasta, not your taste buds."

he pouted dramatically, "but i'm starving!" then he flashed you his signature puppy-dog eyes, and you couldn't help but laugh.

"fine, just one little taste," you said, handing him a spoon.

he tasted it and gave a dramatic nod. "perfect," he said, his voice full of approval. "almost as perfect as this moment."

as the song reached its final notes, “this love is difficult, but it's real,” you paused for a moment, looking into his eyes. "you know, this… this feels just like a love story."

pablo smiled softly, pulling you close. "yeah, it does. and it’s our story."

you leaned into him, the warmth of the kitchen and the moment wrapping around you both like a cozy blanket. "next time, i’m picking the song," you teased.

"deal," he said, kissing your forehead gently. "but just so you know, nothing will top this one."

and just like that, the evening became one of those perfect moments you would cherish forever.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

୨ৎ pedri - you belong with me

the kitchen smelled like fresh herbs and garlic as you and pedri worked together, chopping and stirring your way through dinner. the soft hum of the radio filled the space, but when you belong with me by taylor swift started playing, you couldn’t help but smile.

pedri glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. "wait, is this you belong with me?" he asked, his grin spreading as soon as the song picked up.

you nodded, singing along quietly as you chopped vegetables. "yep, my all-time favorite."

"i didn't know you were a taylor swift fan," he said, his voice playful.

you laughed. "oh, i am. get ready to hear me sing."

pedri rolled his eyes dramatically but grinned. "okay, i can’t wait for this."

just as the chorus came in, “if you could see that i’m the one who understands you”, you couldn’t help yourself and started singing, not caring if you were off-key. pedri pretended to hold his ears in mock horror, but the playful glint in his eyes told you he was enjoying it.

you both continued cooking, but with the music in full swing, you couldn’t resist. “she wears short skirts, i wear t-shirts…” you sang loudly, twirling around the kitchen like a goofy backup dancer.

pedri snorted, setting the knife down and joining in with the chorus. "oh, we’re really doing this now, huh?" he said, laughing as he moved awkwardly, trying to keep up with your dance moves.

you stopped for a second, still grinning. "yeah, i think we’re making this dinner into a concert."

"i think i could get used to this," pedri said, then raised his voice to sing the next line, “i’m the one who understands you, been here all along”. you joined in, both of you trying to hold it together as you sang and cooked like a pair of kids having way too much fun.

as the song reached its peak—“if you could see that I’m the one who understands you, been here all along, so why can’t you see? you belong with me”—pedri dramatically pulled you into a quick spin, laughing when you almost knocked over the bowl of pasta.

"easy there, careful with the sauce!" you said, though you couldn’t stop laughing.

pedri gave you a teasing look, wiping his hands on his apron. "yeah, but i think the dance moves are more important than the sauce right now."

you shook your head, still smiling. "i don’t know about that… but you're right, this feels like a movie."

he gave you a mock bow, grinning. "so does this mean we’re the main characters now?"

you rolled your eyes but pulled him in for a quick hug, the two of you swaying a little to the music. “you belong with me,” the song softly echoed as you wrapped up dinner.

"next time, i get to pick the song," pedri said, his smile wide.

you laughed, shaking your head. "only if it’s as fun as this one."

“deal,” he said, giving you a wink. "but maybe with more dancing, less cooking."

and with that, the night felt even sweeter than the meal, full of laughter, music, and the kind of memories you would both treasure.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

୨ৎ ferran torres - what makes you beautiful

the kitchen was filled with the smell of garlic and fresh basil as you and ferran worked side by side to prepare dinner. the radio played quietly in the background until the familiar tune of what makes you beautiful by one direction started playing, and ferran’s eyes lit up.

“oh, this is my song!” he grinned, grabbing a spoon like it was a microphone and holding it up dramatically. without missing a beat, he started singing along.

“you’re insecure, don’t know what for…” ferran’s voice was a little off-key, but that didn’t stop him from giving it his all as he swayed to the beat. “you’re turning heads when you walk through the door…”

you laughed, shaking your head as he spun around the kitchen, pretending to be a pop star. “ferran, what are you doing?” you teased, trying to keep your focus on chopping the vegetables.

“i’m just getting into the spirit of the song!” he said, grinning as he danced around, “you’re beautiful, that’s what makes you beautiful!”

you raised an eyebrow and let out a little laugh, deciding to join in. “baby you light up my world like nobody else…” you sang along, still chopping the onions but adding a little sway of your own.

ferran noticed you singing and grabbed your hand, spinning you around as the chorus came in. “the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed…” he continued, now really getting into the performance. he gestured dramatically to your hair, making you laugh even harder.

“but when you smile at the ground, it ain’t hard to tell, you don’t know…” he sang, pretending to do a full dance move, then pointing at you with the spoon. “you’re beautiful, oh-oh!”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how seriously ferran was taking it. “ferran, you’re too much!” you said, wiping your hands on your apron.

he grinned, clearly loving every second of it. “you don’t know you’re beautiful, that’s what makes you beautiful…” ferran sang with passion, before giving a little twirl, causing you to laugh even more.

“i swear, you should take this show on the road,” you teased.

“maybe i will,” he said with a wink, “but only if you join me next time.”

the song played on, and ferran didn’t let up. he sang along with every word, fully invested in the music. “so c’mon, you got it wrong, to prove I’m right, i put it in a song…” he belted out with a goofy grin, twirling a little too dramatically for the kitchen.

when the song finally ended, ferran took a deep breath and wiped his forehead like he’d just finished a concert. “and that, my friend, is how it’s done.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, okay, you were actually great, i’ll admit it.”

he struck a pose. “i knew i had some pop star potential.”

“next time, we’re picking something a little less… showy,” you said with a grin.

“no promises,” ferran replied, winking as he grabbed the spoon again. “i’m feeling like a full-on concert next time. you just wait.”

and with that, the evening was filled with laughter, music, and a whole lot of fun—thanks to ferran’s impromptu pop concert. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had so much fun in the kitchen.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

୨ৎ pau cubarsi - baby

you were lounging on the couch in pau’s apartment, scrolling through old playlists on your phone, looking for something to break the lazy afternoon silence. he was next to you, stretched out in sweatpants, half-watching football highlights with that blank, relaxed look he always got when he was truly at peace.

then it started.

“ohh woah, ohh woah, ohh woah…”

you sat up instantly, eyes sparkling.

pau looked over warily. “no.”

you grinned, already getting to your feet. “yes.”

“that’s justin bieber,” he said like it was a valid argument.

“exactly. and we are absolutely dancing to it.”

he groaned. “i’m a footballer. i have a reputation.”

“and i’m your girlfriend, which means you have no dignity left to protect.”

before he could protest again, you grabbed his hand and pulled him off the couch. he stumbled a little, laughing under his breath, already resigned to his fate.

you started first, dramatically mouthing the lyrics, pointing at him every time the word “baby” came up. he stood there, arms crossed, watching you with a mix of horror and amusement.

then you spun under his arm, lost your balance, and nearly fell. he caught you, grinning, and something in him snapped.

“okay,” he said, “but i’m doing this terribly on purpose.”

“perfect. it’ll match my energy.”

he started dancing — if you could call it that. it was a chaotic mess of shoulder shuffles and stiff footwork, but you were laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. halfway through the chorus, he grabbed a hairbrush off the table and used it as a mic, singing completely off-key.

by the end, you both collapsed onto the couch, breathless and grinning.

“that was the most embarrassing thing i’ve done all year,” he said.

you curled into his side. “and the most fun.”

he kissed your forehead and sighed. “if that video ends up on the internet…”

“it’s already on tiktok.”

“no.”

“yes.”

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୨ৎ hector fort - ESTE

steam curled around the bathroom like a warm fog, fogging the mirror and muffling the world outside. you laughed as the opening beat of “este” echoed off the tiles, the speaker just outside the shower blasting it without shame.

“don’t even think about starting without me,” héctor called, the sound of the shower door sliding open right after.

you turned, grinning as you saw him step in, water already dripping down his hair. “i was about to take the solo,” you teased.

he gave you that smile—the one that always made your heart skip a beat. “not without your duet partner.”

you both started swaying to the beat, bare feet slipping slightly on the tile as the water poured over you. you grabbed the shampoo bottle like a mic, dramatically singing the first line. héctor chimed in right after, using the loofah like it was a stadium mic.

you couldn’t stop laughing, even as you hit the chorus together, shouting the lyrics into each other’s faces.

“este, este, este o este” you sang, bumping your hip against his.

“échale saliva, ¡se fue!,” he finished, pulling you in close, dripping and smiling.

it wasn’t just a silly moment—it was one of those little memories that would live rent-free in your mind forever. music, laughter, water, and him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

୨ৎ alejandro balde - look what you made me do

you were in the middle of doing absolutely nothing—just lounging on the floor with your phone—when you heard it.

“i don’t like your little games…”

you looked up slowly. alejandro was standing by the speaker, remote in hand, smirking like a man with a plan.

“really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “this one?”

he nodded, already starting to move to the beat. “you brought this on yourself.”

you burst out laughing. “how?”

“you stole my hoodie. again. and then denied it,” he said, pointing accusingly as look what you made me do continued blasting through the apartment.

“because it looks better on me!” you yelled over the music, getting up to face him.

“not the point,” he said dramatically, spinning around like he was in a full-blown music video. “this is war.”

you didn’t hesitate—you grabbed a hairbrush from the table and used it as a fake mic, jumping into the chorus.

“look what you made me do, look what you just made me do…”

now it was a full performance. alejandro danced around the couch like it was a runway, and you followed, the two of you yelling the lyrics, overacting every word like it was your big moment.

he grabbed your hand during the bridge and spun you way too fast, nearly crashing into the wall, but you were both laughing too hard to care.

by the time the song ended, you were breathless, tangled in each other, collapsing onto the couch.

“we’re insane,” you said between laughs.

“no,” he grinned, pulling you close, “we’re iconic.”

you rested your head on his chest, still smiling as the speaker switched to a slower song. “look what you made me do,” you murmured, voice soft now.

he kissed the top of your head. “yeah… fall in love with me?”

you nudged him playfully. “maybe.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　

୨ৎ lamine yamal - hay lupita

the sun was setting over barcelona, casting a golden glow across the apartment as the first beats of “hay lupita” vibrated through the speakers. you were in the kitchen, half-dancing as you chopped fruit, unable to resist the infectious rhythm.

from the living room, lamine peeked around the corner with a playful grin.

“you starting the party without me?” he teased, already moving to the beat.

you turned, holding a strawberry like a microphone. “only if you’re too slow to join!”

lamine laughed and crossed the room in a few quick steps. soon, you were both in sync, bodies moving effortlessly together, feet sliding across the tile floor. he grabbed your hand and spun you in a mock twirl, then pulled you back close as the chorus hit.

ay, ay-ay, lupita ay , que sí, dame cinturí

you both sang it out loud—off-key and laughing, but full of joy.

“you’ve been listening to this too much,” you giggled.

“it’s our song now,” he said with a wink, pulling you into his arms as the music faded.

in that moment, sweaty and laughing, your heart beat in rhythm with his—caught up in the sound of summer, love, and hay lupita.

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, @hollyf1, lmk if you want to be added!

[ilovegeorgie]

george harrison x reader where she is his muse?? love ur writing!! xoxo

i want her everywhere

george harrison x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none !

summary: sleepy confessions and a not so flustered geo at the end

a/n: aww thanks smm <33 i tried to, but i think it got more into an “im obsessed with you” kinda thing, i got a little excited with this one.. hope you like it :)

the studio was half-lit, full of the usual clutter: tangled wires, old amps, tea mugs perched on equipment cases, and the faint smell of incense from something they had lit earlier. george sat perched on a stool with his guitar in hand, head tilted to the side, tuning.

the other boys were scattered across the space, paul cheking over scribbled lyrics, ringo drumming on the floor out of boredom, and john... well, he was watching george.

“alright,” john said suddenly grinning, “what’s got you all misty-eyed over there, harrison?”

george blinked, looking up from the strings. “what?”

“you’ve been smiling at your fretboard, i dont think you like your guitar that much,” paul chimed in.

“i wasn’t,” george mumbled, immediately ducking his head. but his ears were already turning pink.

“you’ve been off in space since this morning,” ringo added helpfully. “all dreamy and quiet. it's suspicious.”

“i’m allowed to be quiet,” george huffed, fiddling with a string a little too aggressively.

john raised an eyebrow. “you’re always quiet, mate. but this is different, it´s the ‘i’ve written another song about her’ quiet.”

george’s fingers froze mid-chord.

paul’s eyes lit up. “oh! he has, hasn’t he? that’s why he was humming like a monk all through lunch.”

george buried his face in his hands. “can’t a man write a song without getting interrogated?”

“no,” they all said, “it’s us you’re talking about, c’mon” added john.

...

later that week, there was a little party at someone’s flat, someone who probably had no idea four bugs... plus their birds... and half the studio crew. they would mostly end up squeezed into their living room, laughing too loudly over a scratched record.

she was leaning against the kitchen counter, chatting with maureen, when the three troublemakers approached.

john sauntered up first, holding two drinks. “so,” he said, glancing at george across the room, “you know he’s written, like, six songs about you, right?”

she blinked. “who, george?”

ringo nodded. “we caught him grinning at his guitar yesterday. didn’t say a word for at least ten minutes.”

paul leaned in, “he’s been saying it’s about ‘the stars’ and ‘feeling centered,’ but trust me, he definetly means it’s about you.”

she laughed, a little breathlessly. “are you messing with me?”

“absolutely not,” john said. “he’s a proper romantic, that one.”

across the room, george was watching with thinly veiled panic.

“oh no,” he muttered under his breath.

he looked down at his drink, then back at her, and when their eyes met and she smiled, this soft, knowing little smile that said she heard everything, he nearly dropped his glass.

...

the party had mellowed and people were starting to leave, she found him outside, on the balcony, hands in his coat pockets, looking up at the stars like they might rescue him from embarrassment.

“you okay, georgie?”

he turned, startled. his smile was sheepish, “they told you, didn’t they?”

she stepped closer, brushing some dust off the front of his coat and adjusting it, “that you wrote songs about me?” she teased. “maybe.”

he covered his face again. “they’re never going to let me live this down.”

she laughed, getting closer to his chest, almost leaning on him “i think it’s sweet.”

he hesitated, then wrapped his arms around her gently, chin resting on her head. “i didn’t want to scare you off or anything, it may sound creppy but i just... think about you a lot.”

she giggled, “you can tell me when you, you know, think about me and that” she whispered. “or maybe sing it.”

he pulled back slightly, his hand brushing her cheek. “i’ve got one i haven’t shown anyone yet,” he said shyly. “it’s... really stupid i think.”

“i want to hear it,” she said, smiling up at him, “please?”.

he blushed again, ducking his head with a soft laugh.

“well alright, but only if you promise not to tell the others how red i go.”

...

the party had dwindled to only a few stragglers, quiet music playing as the night finally began to settle.

after that long conversation on the balcony, they both ended up in the dim glow of the living room, curled together on the old sofa while everyone else slowly filtered out.

“i’ve got it with me,” george said, taking a folded paper out of his pocket. “its the lyrics. there aren’t any instruments here, but i thought that maybe you would want me to read’em for you”

she looked up at him with tired eyes, already warm from the closeness and the late hour. “you really.. you really want to show them to me?..”

he nodded. “only if you’re awake enough.”

he looked at her, examining every little detail, she was asleep.

one hand resting near her cheek, her breathing soft and steady. he smiled, tender and stunned all over again. he didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb her peace.

“you don’t even know,” he whispered. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, heart aching at how effortlessly perfect she looked. “every little thing you do...”

he paused, feeling a little foolish for talking to someone asleep, but he couldn't stop.

“you just.. you make everything better. i think sometimes, when i’m writing, its like the music’s already there, but it doesn’t make sense until i see you. and then it’s like, yeah... that’s what i meant to write.”

he smiled down at her, completely gone.

that’s when he heard it. a snort.

then a quiet giggle.

george’s eyes darted toward the hallway, and there they were.

paul, ringo, and john, piled awkwardly around the doorway like cartoon characters caught in the act.

“beautiful,” john whispered dramatically, “a true poet.”

george scrambled up so fast, his face going completely red.

“were you spying on me?!” he practicaly hissed.

“you were monologuing mate,” paul said grinning, “we could not.. uh not listen.”

“i knew you were a softie,” ringo said cheerfully. “should’ve brought tissues.”

...

she didn’t mention it right away the next morning.

the way he’d sat beside her, thinking she was asleep. the things he whispered, she’d heard every word. his fingers going trhough her hair and his voice vibrated softly in the space between them.

she didn’t open her eyes only because… well, part of her just wanted to hear it, to let it exist without him getting all shy and brushing it off, or the boys barging in and turning it into a joke.

but now, the sun was rising again, and she found herself back on the balcony where it all began. the party was somehow still going, even though it had faded to a soft buzz inside, muffled through the closed sliding door. just her, george, and the glow of the sunrise pressing gently against their shoulders.

he stood beside her, quiet, thoughtful.

“you were awake, weren’t you?”

she looked up but gave him a guilty little smile.

he huffed a soft laugh, looking away. “course you were.”

“couldn’t help it,” she murmured. “i didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“suppose i meant it all, anyway,” he said visibly flustered.

she turned towards him, her voice barely above a whisper, “you said i make everything better.”

he met her gaze, steady now, no backing away, no hesitation, “you do.”

it was silent for a beat. she stepped closer, so close he could feel the warmth radiating from her. “then i guess i should do something about that, shouldn’t i?”

his eyes searched hers, and without a word, he moved.

he kissed her like he’d been waiting for the right second his whole life.

his hands found her waist and pulled her in slowly, his lips were warm. he tilted his head just enough, her arms went up around his neck, fingers tangling in the soft ends of his hair, that’s when she felt the way his mouth curved into a smile against hers.

his grip tightened a little at her hips, pulling her even closer to him, it was the sweetest thing they’d ever felt.

when he finally pulled back, breath warm against her lips, he stayed close.

“you drive me crazy, you know that, right?”

she smiled, “i think i do now,” she whispered.

inside the house, just out of sight, the three boys were definitely watching from the window.

“well it was ’bout time,” paul muttered, sipping his drink.

john nodded, “i expect at least a ballad about this by tuesday.”

[delicateperspective]

The truth is I’m not great at expressing myself. I’ve had a thousand thoughts running through my head for quite some time now, but I’m going to try to put into words what I feel. English isn’t my first language, so please be patient with me.

There’s been one question I can’t stop thinking about: why?

I think in this fandom it’s necessary to stop for a second and ask ourselves if we might be wrong. And that’s okay. I’ve always liked to look at all sides, even the ones I don’t agree with. I think it’s necessary to understand the full picture.

I’ve chosen to support two boys who, I believe, loved or love each other, and who are in the closet. Not because I want to believe it, but because even after hearing the antis and seeing their “proof,” I still find more truth in what’s being hidden than in what’s being shown.

I’ve been in the fandom for about five years. I didn’t live through 1D in real time, but I’ve done my research. And even though in recent years Louis has been presented as a strong, straight man, a father, a family guy — I can’t ignore everything that came before. The signs are there. They’re not made up. They happened. They’re real.

So why so much effort to deny something that once was so obvious? Why deny it so aggressively? Why erase such an important part of his story?

I understand that if you only look at the last three years, all of this might sound ridiculous. But you can’t just erase the rest. You can’t deny a whole decade of glances, lyrics, silences, symbols, gestures.

You can see how far they’ve stretched this stunt. Louis commenting on Z’s post triggered all kinds of reactions — people saying he’s never been so emotionally open, that he was never like this with Eleanor. So why now? Why like this? Why so many denials of Larry lately, and done in such an aggressive, defensive way? Why did his team — I think it was the hair stylist, I don’t remember her name — speak badly about Larries? Why did his sisters deny it too? Why so much effort to erase something so big?

I understand that some people only see the recent image, but I can’t. And I believe many of us can’t either. You can’t erase what’s happened over more than a decade. You can’t reduce everything to “Louis is straight and the best dad ever” and just keep pushing that endlessly, because it doesn’t make sense. Social media exists, and whether we like it or not, everything is documented (even if some things get deleted).

You can’t tell me he’s dating a reality show influencer and also say he hates that whole world.

You can’t paint him as the straightest man alive while he sings “It’s a church of burnt romances and I’m too far gone to pray / It’s a solo song and it’s only for the brave,” surrounded by flags, saying he feels safe, wearing coded clothes.

You can’t say he hates Harry Styles and that the fans destroyed their friendship, and then watch those glances, those stolen touches, those songs about a love he met at 18 and a lasting relationship.

You can’t sell me the idea that his son is his top priority when he hasn’t even protected his privacy, when he hasn’t been there in key moments.

And you can’t say he’s homophobic or uncomfortable with gay rumors when he’s been in gay bars, has a triangle tattooed on his skin, and has written “be proud” on a flag.

You can’t erase who they’ve been. Who they’ve been for more than a decade.

You can’t just cling to what’s convenient now and forget what once was so evident.

Stories don’t disappear just because no one talks about them anymore.

Gestures don’t lie. And sometimes songs scream what voices stay silent about.

You can’t reduce someone full of layers and nuance into just one thing.

You can’t say it’s all black and white when there are thousands of colors in between.

Maybe this message doesn’t make much sense, but I needed to let it out.

Thank you for reading. And truly, thank you for creating a space where we can think with calm, with critical thought, and without losing empathy.💞

oh my heart — you say you’re not great at expressing yourself, and then you go and write something that’s so clear, articulate, and deeply moving. ♥

i agree with you 100%: it’s crucial to stop and check ourselves sometimes. to ask if we might be wrong. to stay open to being wrong. to look at every angle, even the ones that don’t match what we want to believe. that’s how we stay grounded, and that’s how we keep our integrity.

the truth is, we probably are wrong about some things. that’s just the nature of piecing together a story we weren’t meant to see. there are things we missed. things we misunderstood. things we only understood in hindsight. but at the same time — as some details have fallen away, so many more have been confirmed or made clearer with time. blocked interviews, old footage, behind-the-scenes leaks, deleted clips, unreleased lyrics — they’ve only made the picture sharper.

so when people ask, why the cover-up? why so much denial? — the answer is, because they never had another option.

this started in 2010. long before they were ready. long before they were famous enough to push back. and once the narrative was in motion, it had to keep going. the more their fame grew, the harder it was to untangle. one direction was the first social-media-made boyband, and that changed everything. before that, hiding things was easier — call up a tabloid, pose with a girl, plant a story. but as tech evolved — camera phones, twitter, stan culture — the control had to evolve, too.

and when you’re dealing with artists who can’t speak freely — who are bound by contracts, management, NDAs, and brand deals — sometimes the only option left is to erase the past and replace it with something easier to swallow.

and the truth is: most people don’t remember

they weren’t here for the beginning. they didn’t see the shift happen in real time. they’ve only seen louis post-2019. they don’t remember the glances, the lyrics, the tattoos, the interviews, the way he lit up next to harry. they never saw the subtle rebellion, the patterns, the coded language. they don’t see the full picture — because they were never given the full picture.

and unfortunately, context does disappear. media gets deleted. clips get scrubbed. narratives change. and unless you’ve spent years watching, researching, connecting dots — you’ll probably miss the nuance. and most people don’t want nuance. they want simplicity. they want red carpet kisses, instagram stories, public drama. they want what’s entertaining — not what’s true.

when your career depends on a public image, and you’re not allowed to tell the truth — you give the public a truth that works. and right now, that version of the truth is: louis is a straight, grounded solo artist dating someone who’s relevant and visible.

is it real? no. is it frustrating? absolutely. but is it strategic? without question.

if you're part of louis' team, and you're trying to keep him in the media, keep his name trending, or build a “palatable” narrative for the GP — you lean in to the image that works. and if you’re family or friends, you might go along with it (or stay silent like mark) because you know it’s not your story to fix. you know he can’t say what he wants to say — not yet. and maybe not ever. but like you said: you can’t erase a decade of truth just because it’s inconvenient now. you can’t erase the glances, the lyrics, the silences, the symbols. you can’t reduce layered, complicated people into one flat narrative.

and you absolutely can’t convince someone who’s been watching this unfold for 10+ years that their instincts, their memories, and their research are completely imagined.

[mattsunsdollie]

Sports Car

Juan Soto x Fem!Reader

Welcome to a new series of mine! These will be fics based off a song. You can find it under “Through the Lyrics” on the master list. All feedback is appreciated💋💋

“hey cute jeans, take mine off me”

Juan’s gaze was intense, his eyes practically burning holes as he watched you. You were at an party hosted by one of his teammates. The music was loud, the bass sending a vibration to the core. Juan couldn’t keep his eyes off you, the way your jean shorts hugged you in all of the right places.

His hand squeezed your waist. Positioning you to stand right in front of him.

“oh golly gee, i can’t take no more”

The whole day leading up to the night he had been teasing you. Hands lingering on you for a little to long. He would hold your waist while pasting behind you, his crotch rubbing against your ass.

All you had wanted was for to him fuck you before the event. To touch you after all of the teasing, but he acted clueless. Your pleas going in one ear and out the other.

“i’m going weak in my knees”

His hands low on your hips, and you could feel his erection on your back. It took all over your self control to not push yourself into him. You tried to maintain composed to not raise any flags

“where’d you put those keys?”

You turn around, facing Juan. Your hands go to his abdomen and you lay them there. You lean in, kissing him sweetly on his cheek. His hand immediately going on your lower back, encouraging you stay close to him.

To the crowd you just looked like a loving coupling. But they didn’t hear the way you whine, pleading to leave. “Juan I want to go home” you whispered, looking at the way his mouth spread into a smile.

“we can share one seat”

He bent down, going to kiss you on your temple. “Wait til later” he said sternly then going back to his full height. Your fingers in the loops on his jeans, pulling his body into you.

“Please Juan, need you now” you begged only loud enough for him to hear. He peered down at you. Your eyes looking up at him with desperation.

“we can share one seat”

That was his breaking point. He grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. He said his goodbyes before heading to the parking.

You gripped his biceps, which were bulging in his cotton tee. The walk to the car was silent, aside from his breathing. You knew you were in for it.

His black sports car could be seen at a distance. Juan pressed the auto starter, the loud engine could be heard and the lights turned on.

“in the alley in the back”

Juan opened the door, leading you to the red interior. The leather seats felt cold under you, and you play with your fingers from the anticipation. The car was a two-seater, an expensive luxury car that Juan bought himself for his birthday.

Once he got in, he put it into drive- wasting no time. The exhaust was loud, and probably disturbing anyone. But you didn’t care, you just wanted to get home as soon as possible.

“in the center of this room”

Your hand makes its way onto his muscular thigh. You could feel the muscles tense under you. “Don’t” was all that came out of Juan’s mouth. However, that did little to stop you.

In fact, it egged you on. Your palm grabbed and massaged the skin. You heard a faint groan escape Juan’s lips. When you turned your head his jaw was tight, while his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“with the windows rolled down”

The windows around you were tinted, no one could see in. Your hand laid on his upper thigh, close to his crotch. You pressed your weight on it and leaned in to kiss the vein on the side of his neck.

A faint whimper leaves his mouth, as you’re now sucking on his neck. Your hand on his erection that’s leaving a tent in his pants.

“boy don’t make me choose”

When he approaches a red light, you notice the streets are empty. Probably because it’s well past midnight and upstate New York is not nearly as packed as the city.

He grabs your wrists. “You’re not going to wait are you?” he asks, sneaking in a kiss before the light turns green.

You shake your head which gives him the answer he expected already. You couldn’t wait, a hours of anticipation leading you to being more desperate than ever.

“i think you know what this is”

Then he’s pulling in a one way that’s blocked by trees and bushes. It’s secluded, no street lights- no sign of getting caught.

He starts reclining his seat. It gives you the perfect view of his legs that you love so much. The way he looks so big in the two seater has your head spinning.

The car is filled by his musky cologne, the one you adore. You kneel on your seat, resting your stomach over the middle of the car. Your hands go immediately for the brown belt that’s on his hips.

“i think you wanna uh”

Being face to face with his erection, and even though it’s confided in his pants- has your mouth watering. He’s huge in every way and you just want to put your hands on him.

You unbuckle the belt, and pull down the zipper. You put your hand down his pants and free him- not having the time to fully unclothe each other.

You spit on your hand and rub the head while he kisses you.

“no you ain’t got no mrs.”

You’re the only one in his whole life who has ever had him this whipped. Cock springing to life for such little things. You drag your hand up and down, spreading the salvia all the way to the base.

“Shit, take what’s yours” he groans in your ear- kissing your cheek. His hand heavy on your ass as he massages the skin.

“bet you got a sports car”

You rest on your elbows, while he his other arm holds your hair. You wrap your lips around the tip, running your tongue up and down.

He has a firm hand on your hair, not pulling or anything- just letting you know he’s there. He’s groaning and moving in the seat as you slurp him up.

“we can uh uh in it”

You know that Juan’s never been patient. He loves the way your mouth sucks him, creating a warm and wet home for him. But he wants to feel you wrapped around him and seeing you bounce.

He gently pulls you off of him, stroking himself while kissing you. It’s his turn to pull the loops of your jean shorts- showing his urgency on wanting them off.

And you oblige, you slide them off letting them fall onto your seat. You straddle him, his hand on your throat. His large hand covers almost the whole area, and he pulls you in for another kiss.

You didn’t care for the burn that was to come or the stretch. Aligning him with your entrance you lowered yourself. Your legs shaking from just the tip entering. Your hand barely wrapped around his wrist as you continued to lower yourself.

You arch into him as you reach the base. Your ass sat perfectly onto his huge legs. “N-need your help Juan” you moan out, your legs feeling like jello already.

And he obliges, his arms wrapping around your mid section tightly. He brings you to his chest and his arms cross around you. Then you feel him scoot to the edge of the seat, pushing impossibly deeper into you.

When all of sudden he’s fucking up into you with a strength and pace you’ve only ever felt one other time. He’s whispering in your ear “Keep holding me baby, you feel so good”

All you can do is just take it, you can’t run or pull back. You’re stuck in his web and there’s no where else you’d rather be. The angle and the force has him touching the spongy spot deep inside.

You let your head to fall in the crook of his neck. You see his vein bulging, and you attach your lips onto his neck. Sucking harshly leaving a mark on his soft skin.

His large hands move to your ass, keeping you still on top of him as he groans. You buck your hips while trying to get any stimulation. He moves you on his dick like you weight noting. He can feel your wetness on the skin by the base of his dick.

You’re clamping down tighter than ever as his tip continues to hit your gspot. The dirty promises he whispers into your ear only sending you over the edge faster.

You tighten around him as you cum, while milking him of everything he’s got.

“while you drive it real far”

Juan swears he’s never cum so fast in his life. The adrenaline of fucking you in his car while you’re moaning and sucking on his neck had his dick twitching.

And you stay seated on top of him, relishing in the feeling of being full. The car is foggy and your legs feel tired.

Thankfully you both are in the middle of nowhere, so there’s no need to speed off immediately. Juan gives you a moment before you crawl back into your seat, slumped on the leather seats. His hand is in your lap when you hear him rev the engine and start the drive back to the apartment.

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

Cannibal

Sanji x fem!reader

Notes: This is inspired by the song Cannibal from Kesha, but there are only like three lines from the song actually written in. If you like this one shot please leave a comment!

The crew had stopped on an entretainment island while Nami decided which was the best way to get to Loguetown. Which of course meant that, while they stayed on the island, the captain was going to try to absorbe as much meat as he possibly could.

And so there was Sanji, along with the rest of the crew, on a tabern. Luffy was stuffing his mouth full of meat and food in general, Zoro was stuffing his mouth full of sake and Nami and Usopp were chatting between them as they ate.

Sanji, on the other hand, was awfully distracted with the performers that were singing and dancing on the tabern´s stage. With beautifully colored clothing that had an inmense amount of glitter which shined under the candle lights making their movements all the more attractive and alluring.

One in specific had called his attention, a woman (as usual) which danced like no one was watching her. She wasn´t the most graceful of the bunch, and neither was she the most attractive by social standards. But Sanji could not, for the life of his, peel his eyes away from her.

In the middle of his staring contest Zoro elbowed him in the ribs so that he would answer a question his captain was asking, and as he turned away from the performers, he missed the way your gaze had found him, and the way you had scurried off stage to talk with the music players.

And so when most of the previous performes left the stage and the music completely changed the blonde cook was still very mmuch focused on explaining Luffy why the meat could hace used more spices and way less oregano (not that it mattered, Luffy would eat it nonetheless).

And Sanji´s attention did not return to the stage until he heard sweet Nami saying "period" to something the new singer had said. But when he did turn around again, oh boy did his heart felt like it dropped from his chest with the beauty on the stage.

And she was looking right at him.

Of course you were looking at him, from all the men in the tabern that night he seemed like one of the most (if not the most) attractive (and respectful). Unlike all the guys staring at you and your work partners like pieces of meat he looked at you with a look of adoration, as if your dancing had hung up the stars. Hell, you could almost see those stars in the glitter of your costume reflecting in your eyes.

He was grateful for many things, truly, Sanji had learnt from a young age to treasure everything little in fear that it would run out. He treasured the time with his crew, he treasured every meal, every day he was alive, and he just knew that he would treasure this moment, being only a few feet away from the stage, starting to sing, disociating while staring into your eyes, feeling a dark blush cover his cheeks with warmth.

And then you blinked in a flirty way at him and the whip of it all managed to snap him back to reality, right in time to hear the chorus of the song.

"Whenever you tell me im pretty, that´s when the hunger really hits me" while shaking your hips and dancing, "your little heart goes pitter patter" and then your expression shifted from flirty to mockery as you sang "I want your liver on a platter".

And Sanji was losing it, absolutely losing it, it could have been something in the lyrics, or in the way you danced or how you hadn´t stopped looking at him for not even a second, but something was wreaking him inside and making his breath hitch.

But you on the stage didn´t care, why would you? God, he was sure he was starting to fall in love.

"Use your finger to stir my tea, and for dessert I´ll suck your teeth, be to sweet and you´ll be a goner..." He didn´t even hear the last part of the chorus from how loud the blood was thumping in his ears.

He wanted it, all of it, whathever you would give him, even if it was juct the scraps of your prescence he would take and adore them. He wanted you to consume him whole, to disect every little part of him and eat him piece by piece.

Unfortunately he had to get up and away from the stage or he was sure he would explode. He almost missed his captain mentioning how they still had to find a musician for the crew.

[somanyideassolittletime]

you're gonna live forever in me

Pairing: Jack Abbot x fem!reader (3rd pov)

summary: John Mayer makes great sad song.

Warnings: angst, angst, angst.

He doesn’t even remember having this song in his phone, she must’ve added this a long time ago, he thinks. 

The great big bang and dinosaurs 

fiery rain and meteors 

It all ends unfortunately. 

But you're gonna live forever in me

I guarantee, just wait and see

Jack's hands grasped the steering wheel hard when the familiar music played in his car. He knows the song by heart – listening to an artist's discography repeatedly does that to someone, he supposed. His mind tells him to change the song and to throw away every memory he has associated with this song, but his heart tells him to listen; to reminisce about all the good times he’s had the privilege to experience. Ironic really, he’s pulling up in the driveway and this song decides to play.

“Why do you like sad songs so much, I never understand,” he once asked her, driving around the city at night, no destination on mind. “It’s not sad, J. It’s beautiful.-” She looked at him like he hung the moon, she always does. “Imagine loving someone to the point that they live forever in you,” he chuckled, “I don’t have to, you already are.” And she had cried that night, hearing him mutter those words. 

J, a nickname he once hated – how hard it is to just say Jack? He once thought – but hearing her call him J for the first time, he couldn’t help but erase his forethought on how much he hated that nickname. Hearing her call him J makes him feel young again; her tone always holds no malice every time she calls him that, for him, hearing her mutter those one letter is like a prayer, a beacon of how close she held him in her heart. 

Parts of me were made by you

And planets keep their distance too

The moon's got a grip on the sea

And you're gonna live forever in me

I guarantee, it's your destiny

His mind wandered to the one time they went to The Museum, looking around hand in hand, talking about everything all at once. 

“J, did you know that in some interpretations of the Greek mythology, human beings are made with four arms, four legs, and a head with two faces. But fearing what they could do, Zeus split them into halves, and they spend the rest of their lives finding the other half.” she had said to him, he laughed, bringing their intertwining hand to his lips, kissing it, “what a weird fact to tell me when we’re looking at a sabretooth, hon.” She had laughed too. “yeah, the timing was off, sorry” he turned to her, looking in her eyes, leaning in, “never be sorry, I love it.-” he whispers to her “also I would love to kiss you, but we’re kinda in the museum.” he leaned back, both smiling at each other like nothing else in the world mattered, both silently agreeing that they have found the other half. 

Life is full of sweet mistakes

And love's an honest one to make

Time leaves no fruit on the tree

But you're gonna live forever in me

I guarantee, it's just meant to be

The car is parked, but he can’t will himself to turn it off, not when his mind is currently preoccupied by the thoughts that kept him up most nights. He never stopped loving her, he still finds her in every day small things; a book he thinks she will love, a song he knows she’ll play in their home repeatedly until he can recite the entire lyrics. She still occupies his thoughts a lot, even after all these years. 

His mind kept repeating the night he called it off before he went to bed every night – he kept reciting all the hurtful words he had said over and over again, wishing he had said something different, something that could make her stay. And on one of those nights, when he’s been too deep in his own thoughts, he would twist the memory to the point that he can picture her in bed beside him, holding him, telling him to go to sleep, and that all that has happened was just some twisted nightmare he conjured up. 

How he wished that he would give in to the fight when he called it off instead of doing what he had always been doing, retract himself. I don’t like it when you don’t argue back, it’s like what we had is not worth fighting, J. had once said to him in one of their first fight. 

And when the pastor asks the pews

For reasons he can't marry you

I'll keep my word and my seat

But you're gonna live forever in me

I guarantee, just wait and see

He wonders if she’s moved on, if she’s found someone worthy of her love, if she’s found her a husband. If she is married, in a way, he’s glad; glad that he doesn’t have to bear seeing her walking down the aisle, glad that she’s happy, that she found herself her other half. 

She’s gonna live forever in him, that’s her destiny for him, he supposed. No matter where she is, no matter what she’s doing, what she’s thinking, part of him will still always live for her as part of her will always live forever in him. No matter what he’s doing, the memory of the time he spent with her will always live in the back of his mind, like a reminder of what he has lost. 

The song has changed now, he wills himself to turn the ignition off, walking into his home, bag slung on one shoulder.  Putting the key in the slot, he can’t help to think that maybe, just maybe, she’ll greet him on the other side of the door, hug him, and kiss his cheek like she always does. But he knows better than to hope. 

He emptied his pockets on the table, looking around the house – now feels too big, too empty, too cold – and sighed. His phone lit up with a notification, one he knew not from her. He picked up his phone, with a recent game score notification on the front screen. Not knowing what to do. 

It's like his hand has a mind of its own, his thumb now hovering over her number, and suddenly his phone felt hot in his hand. He contemplates longer than he usually does. 

So he did the best thing he should’ve done all those years – he listened to his heart – and pressed the call button. With his heart hammering in his chest. 

She picked up in the third ring. She had, after all, promised him that she was just one call away, but that was when they were together. She hadn’t backed up from her promise, it seems. 

“Jack?” 

Not J, not anymore, not to her. But maybe he wanted to be reckless and let himself hope.

[vanrougenui]

this is like a continuation of my previous post because i didnt know how to fit this detail into it because i personally find it important to all this. to put into perspective how weird they made it with the romanticism and incest, at the begining of episode 11 uika is singing greensleeves (i also believe that it was preformed live by rikopin too before this episode even aired) which is a romantic english folk song written about unrequited one side love of a man towards a freespirited woman that rejected him LIKE HELLO??

if that isnt enough to turn heads at the romantic implications of uika and sakiko's relationship then i dont know what else can! especially if you consider all the references from song about sakiko straight up rejecting/ignoring/being uncomfortable with uika and her yearning and "love", its very easy to understand why they even chose to center this song around uika and sakiko, it would have been so smart, if it hadnt been for the incest.... (apart from the religious and biblical implications of the song and it referencing what child this is, jesus christ and sakiko) its like clear what they were going for here and i dont want to see anyone defending anything in the grand scope of things. doing all of that just to soil it with stupid incest to bring forth shock value and a plot twist is so stupid. i didnt see anyone say anything about this either people ignored it or just dont get it AND WHO IS ILLITERATE NOW HUH HOW CAN YOU MISUNDERSTAND THIS THING???

[gghero]

[ screaming at the top of my lungs in the confession booth ]

[napoftustar]

tu 언니 have you listened to this song before? i used to listen to it so many times a day before and i listened to it again today and aljdldjdkd

linnie i think you are my miracle....

aND first of all SORRRYY for replying this toooooo late ㅠㅠ i saw this a few hours ago and the reason i’m just replying is... i needed this to sink in.... when i played the song it stayed on repeat for a good 30 minutes or so because the song.... the lyrics... the way iu conveys them... THE STORY... on one hand i was so excited to match the lyrics with the tubatu lyrics after i realized they’re carrying similar messages/plots. after every line i read there were multiple txt songs playing in my head ㅠㅠ HOW IS THIS SO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN AND WHY IS IT KIND OF SUMMARIZES TXT’S storyline. and on the other hand i was trying to handle the pain the lyrics caused ahdhhdhrjwkadlnf it’s painfully beautiful and i relate it so much— unnntil the part where she finds/remembers the path to herself....

i’m a casual listener of iu and i really love few songs of her but i think i never (at least with attention) listened this song of hers before. thank you so much for sharing it with me i’d be so sad if i’d continued my life without being aware of this beautiful piece of art ㅠㅠ

[daeluin]

not insane as in every song is about patrick truther but insane as in every song in mania is ultimately about patrick truther

[yu3s]

** i think reading dungeon meshi and frieren and witch hat atelier at the same time does something irreversibleto you... .

[zincbot]

there's too many mountain goats songs

[the-ross-winchester]

you there. high quality production music video with access to the lyrics already written for you. why are your captions completely disabled all together.

you there. high quality production youtube channel with a team of people. why are your captions autogenerated.

[bmpmp3]

hibiki koto's SV bank is shaping out to sound like it would sound gorgeous in some revue starlight songs, i hope someone's able to try that out someday