#Sings Ballads and Blues

[jordieeeee]

IS THAT BLUE MAGIC ON HIS HANDS I SEE? I repeat, IS THAT BLUE MAGIC ON HIS HANDS I SEE? He's Wiccan!

[mgstappie]

[momomikan]

20240316 Daesung Dlite BIGBANG ballad medley D's Road Fan Day

From: 4K LIVE

[rockybloo]

I need to draw Sweetheart and Bitterbat singing Alicia Key's Diary because it's such a good representation of both them.

Not in terms of the lyrics but how they'd sing in karaoke with Sweetheart being chill and hitting just the amount of notes she needs and Bitterbat throwing limits out the window and just going completely wild with that shit because he got the green light to sing with his girlfriend in a duet and he's not missing a chance to serenade his queen.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Julian Lage Live Show Review: 3/17, Old Town School of Folk Music, Chicago

Julian Lage

BY JORDAN MAINZER

During the middle of his second set of the night on Monday at the Old Town School of Folk Music, guitar wunderkind and composer Julian Lage started lavishing praise on the venue's Resource Center. He told us that before the show, he was casually reading Mel Tormé's My Singing Teachers and holding a physical copy of John Coltrane's Ballads, just two of the purported 17,000 (!) books, videos, and sound recordings housed at the library. Lage specifically mentioned Ballads' version of Jimmy McHugh's "Say It (Over and Over Again)" and then said, "I'd like to play it for you," a welcome surprise to a crowd that was familiar with Lage's catalog and knew that there's no recorded version of him performing that song. While it's not unusual for a jazz musician of Lage's stature to know a classic tune well enough to decide to play it that day or even on the spot, his choice exemplified the spirit of spontaneity that pervaded the concert.

Julian Lage

Listen to Lage's studio albums or watch a Master Class, and you see temporary dives into dynamism. Give him an acoustic guitar and 90 minutes, apparently, and he's a different player altogether. As he performed on Monday, he rocked back and forth, practically jumping out of his chair as if to squeeze every last note from his instrument. At times, wordless expressions escaped his mouth, not quite "yeah!"s but nonetheless affirmative celebrations for nailing lines or simply loving the sounds he was concocting. Lilting, swaying melodies gave way to fast-picked and strummed showmanship, and quiet, wistful instrumentals to spidery controlled chaos. Some audience members literally gasped when he demonstrated the dexterity of his fingers on Americana-imbued set opener "Gardens", alternating long-held notes with lush, twangy sprinkles. Others laughed when Lage playfully paused and continued riffing, filling, and vamping on the jaunty "Day and Age", shrugging his shoulders like he had lost sovereignty to the song itself.

Julian Lage

Though last year, Lage released Speak to Me (Blue Note), he clearly didn't view Monday's set, presented by the Chicago Humanities Festival, as part of a showcase for the album. Before playing Spike Hughes' "Nocturne", Lage, thinking out loud, essentially admitted he was improvising his setlist. I marveled at his ability to read the room and curate a selection of tracks that sounded appropriate in succession, such as the blues freneticism of unreleased "Storyville" into the subtle version of "Say It (Over and Over Again)", or the sneaky, creeping "In Heaven" (a cover of David Lynch and Peter Ivers' "In Heaven (Lady in the Radiator Song) from Eraserhead) into Speak to Me's strutting "Northern Shuffle". The last was the unabashed highlight of the set, a choogling funk bop that seemed to constantly propel itself to higher velocity. Lage's stomps, licks, and minutes-long deviation from the song's main theme more than made up for the absence of the studio version's snappy drums and groovy saxophone honks. By the time he left the stage, I felt like I understood why Lage is so prolific and his output so diverse: After all these years, he still finds thrills in making, bending, breaking, and rebuilding songs, each moment an opportunity for composition or handing the reigns to the musical powers that be.

[excalibur97531]

‘She Thinks I Still Care’ was co-written by Dickey Lee and Steve Duffy. Elvis recorded his version at Graceland, Memphis, Tennessee on February 2, 1976. The track can be found on ‘The Complete Elvis Presley Masters’ box set (under outtakes & alternates).

Copyright holder: LatinAutor, LatinAutor - SonyATV, LatinAutorPerf, Audiam (Publishing), UMPI, SOLAR Music Rights Management, UNIAO BRASILEIRA DE EDITORAS DE MUSICA - UBEM, UMPG Publishing, Concord Music Publishing

[marvelstoriesepic]

Steam and Silhouettes

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky x Reader

Summary: While trying to take a shower, Bucky comes barging into your shared bathroom, claiming Alpine misses her new mama.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: mild nudity (non-sexual); mutual pining; suggestive humor; domestic fluff; Alpine being Alpine; Bucky being a ridiculous dork

Author’s Note: This is a part of a series with a loose timeline, but you can also read this as a standalone. Hope you enjoy ♡

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“Oh my god, Bucky, get out!”

Your voice resounds off the steamed-up tiles, somewhere between scandalized and entirely unconvincing. A squeak of the shower curtain rings as it trembles slightly, your poor attempt at pretending this isn’t the weirdest and most you moment of your life as Bucky Barnes’ roommate.

“Relax, doll. She missed you.”

You peek through the waterfall of hot water stinging your eyes, blinking furiously, heart lurching somewhere high into your throat.

A shadow casts on the shower curtain. A tall figure with broad shoulders and the boldest audacity, backlit by the bathroom light.

And perched high on his forearm, just barely bobbing into view over the shower curtain, is a tiny white paw. Then another. Then two crystalline blue eyes.

You sputter a wet laugh, nearly choking on a mouthful of water. “Buck! Did you seriously bring Alpine in here?”

The kitten meows. Sweet, high-pitched, held up by Bucky’s arms, peering over your goddamn shower curtain as though she’s Simba in The Lion King.

Your heart is hammering.

Not because of Alpine.

But because Bucky Barnes is standing just on the other side of the plastic barrier, mere inches away, and you’re stark naked, and your feelings are very much not platonic, and your brain is officially trying to outrun you.

Bucky sounds way too casual about the whole thing. “She was cryin’ outside the door. Thought maybe she just needed to see her mama.”

Huffing, you push your wet hair out of your face, the weight of it slick and heavy down your back. “She’s a baby, Bucky. Babies cry. Doesn’t mean you come walking into the bathroom while someone’s taking a shower.”

Bucky holds her up with both arms, the way someone might offer a sacred relic or a bottle of wine. His bare forearms flex slightly, and you hate that, even though he’s holding an adorably sweet and fluffy white kitten, Bucky is still somehow distracting.

“But she was cryin’, doll,” he says, now softer. “Wouldn’t let up. Climbed up my pants. Clawed her way up like I was a tree.”

“Seriously?”

“Swear on Steve’s good name. Wouldn’t stop till I picked her up. That’s how I figured she missed her mama.”

Your heart stutters. That stupid word again. Mama.

“Bucky, get out,” you only repeat exaggerated.

“You left the door unlocked,” he shoots back through the veil of hot air, all indignant as though he’s the one being violated.

You make a strangled noise, rubbing your temples, breathing through your nose, trying to remember that you do like him most days. You chose to live with this idiot. You’ve lived with him for a while now. You’ve survived him accidentally setting a potholder on fire, singing 90s power ballads at 2 am, and alphabetizing your spices just to mess with you.

“That’s not an invitation to come in here like a psycho and lift our kitten over the curtain to watch me shower.”

There’s a rustle on the other side. The shuffle of his feet on the tile. “But she was sad, doll. Missed you. Thought maybe you abandoned her for good.”

“She saw me ten minutes ago,” you state with a sigh in your voice, turning to rinse shampoo out of your hair.

“Well.” You see his shadow shrug behind the curtain, adjusting Alpine’s wiggly butt in his hands. “Ten minutes is like a week to a baby. You ever gone a week without your favorite person? It’s tragic.”

The words trip something in your chest. You hear the slight quirk of his mouth in his voice, as though maybe he knows what he is doing. As though this isn’t entirely about Alpine.

Alpine mews again, that high-pitched kitten sound like a squeak toy dipped in sugar, and Bucky chuckles, soft and low and affectionate in a way that makes your knees threaten to buckle.

Her tiny nose twitches, eyes wide, paws scrabbling at the edge of the curtain as Bucky still keeps holding her aloft like a proud, ridiculous cat dad.

You sigh, one hand on your face, the other holding the curtain in a defensive scrunch. “I’m still naked, Barnes.”

There’s a pause. Like a thoughtful, huh kind of pause. You hear him shuffle on the tile. As though he only just caught up with that part. As though he hadn’t really thought this through beyond the cat misses you and you probably miss the cat and maybe, just maybe, I wanted to see you too.

“I mean, technically she’s naked too,” he deadpans after a beat.

You let your forehead thunk gently against the tile wall, groaning into the rising steam.

“And she’s a girl, y’know. So… girl to girl. Girl solidarity. Ain’t weird,” he adds helpfully, as though this might somehow serve as a legal defense in court.

“She’s also two pounds and can’t even use a litter box without falling in,” you hiss back.

“Details.”

You sigh, slumping back under the spray and dragging your hands down your face. Soap hangs off your eyelashes. Alpine meows, a chirpy sound, as if she’s telling you to be nice to your ridiculous roommate.

“She says she didn’t get a real goodbye,” he says, voice low and a little sing-songy as though he knows he is pushing your buttons and is committing to the bit anyway. “Her little heart’s broken now. Might never recover.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the snort that leaves your lips. God, you’re so in love with him it’s embarrassing. Your heart feels like a paper lantern too close to the flame.

Alpine meows again, tiny paws curling over the curtain as she cranes her neck to spot you better, big blue eyes wide with wonder, as though you are the best thing she’s ever seen.

And Bucky is holding her so gently he might have spent the last ten minutes convincing her that yes, mama still exists and no, she didn’t disappear, and yes, you can go look at her now.

Reaching out, you poke your hand over the curtain, water dripping from your fingers as you scratch softly at Alpine’s chin.

“There you are, baby,” you utter amused but soft. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Bucky chuckles, deep and low, but there is something fragile under it. His hand - still holding the kitten - brushes yours for a second and he stays still.

You can see the shadow of his boots from under the curtain, the soft shuffle of his weight shifting, but not moving toward the door like a normal person would do after realizing they’ve invaded your steamy sanctuary of suds and sanity.

Then, you lean out. Just your head. Damp hair dripping, chin tucked, eyes narrowed as you peek past the edge of the curtain like a very cautious ghost.

And there he is.

Standing. Holding Alpine as though she’s the goddamn crown jewel. But his hands have stilled on her fur, mid-stroke, and his face is softened, startled. As though he just remembered something he wasn’t supposed to forget.

Then his gaze flicks - unintentionally, just a tick - toward the vague silhouette of your body behind the curtain. His breath hitches. Just slightly. And then his ears go red.

His eyes do an awkward flutter toward the ceiling, toward the tiles, toward Alpine, anywhere but toward the slice of your face. He looks like a man trying not to glance at a solar eclipse without sunglasses.

“You good?” you ask, dry as bone, drops of water landing on the edge of the shower.

He clears his throat. “Uh. Yeah. Just gonna let you finish up. I, uh- think Alpine’s satisfied now,” he says, one hand coming up to scratch behind the kitten's ear. She purrs lazily, utterly unaware that she has single-handedly plunged her two favorite humans into an emotional fever dream.

You bite back a smirk. “Sure she is.”

“I didn’t see anything, obviously,” he goes on, still looking at literally anything other than you. “Not that I was tryin’ to. Not that there was anything to see- I mean- that’s not how I- I meant, that you- Fuck, now I’m makin’ it weird. Which is not what I meant. I mean- it’s not bad, just- Jesus Christ.”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. Not because it’s funny - though it is funny - but because there is something in your chest threatening to melt. Something painfully weak. The kind of thing you don’t want to touch too hard in case it turns real and runs away.

“Right. Great,” he mutters. A pause. “I’m gonna take her out,” he adds, finally lowering Alpine down to the little mat beside the door. She immediately tries to climb his pant leg again.

You tilt your head.

“You sure? She might still want to see her mama.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, well, her mama deserves a shower in peace without bein’ ogled. Just thought she’d calm down if she saw ya. You can resume whatever mysterious shower rituals you do in there.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, it’s called cleaning myself, Barnes.”

He huffs a laugh. “Alright, alright. I’m goin’. Don’t yell at me in front of the kid.”

“She’s a cat.”

“She’s sensitive.”

You shouldn’t be this warm. It’s not the water anymore. It’s something else creeping under your skin, behind your ribs. You want to say something. Want to reach out and grab his shirt and pull him in - not into the shower, not like that, not yet. Just into your space. Into the same space you’ve been for a while now. Waiting.

But you’re also very wet. And very naked. And this isn’t exactly the moment you want him to remember for the rest of his life when he thinks of your first real step forward. If he even believes you could take such a step.

So instead, you smile, shake your head. “Get outta here, Barnes. I’ll be out in five.”

He lifts his eyes at you, long enough to catch your expression. And even though you’re barely there - just your head, framed in fog and water and shampoo suds - he smiles. Something tender glimmers in his eyes. Maybe he’s already counting down those five minutes.

He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Take your time,” he says, voice gone quiet now.

And it’s soft. Not teasing. As though maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought it would be. Maybe he’s not entirely sorry.

Your face does something treasonous. Your heart does something worse.

With a clear of his throat, his hand takes hold of the doorknob, opening it a crack. Alpine trots out of the bathroom, tail swishing, entirely pleased with herself. He watches her for a beat. Then stares at a tile. Lingers. Then looks back at you. His eyes snap quickly to your body shielded by the curtain, and fly away instantly, as though he caught himself in the last moment. “Alright, I’ll give you some privacy,” he utters, voice a little raspy. “Gotta go now. Gotta go learn about boundaries or somethin’.”

And then he’s gone. The door clicks shut behind him.

You’re standing there dripping, heart pounding for reasons that have less to do with steam and everything to do with him.

He’s got that effect on you. Even when he’s being a ridiculous dork. Especially when he’s being a ridiculous dork.

The door cracks open again.

“Oh my god, Buck-” you begin to protest, but he interrupts you quickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just-” Bucky calls out, soft, voice low as though he’s trying not to scare a bird. “Uh, I was thinkin’. You want takeout?”

One hand freezes mid-reach for your body lotion, the other still braced against the curtain. You didn’t expect him to ask that.

“Thought maybe you’d be hungry,” he explains, as though it’s the most reasonable thing in the world to have a food conference while you’re still literally naked and trying to have some privacy. “I’ll order. You take your time in there. By the time you’re all… y’know-” You see his shadow gesture at you behind the curtain, “human again, it’ll be here.”

You laugh. It kind of bursts out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Human again?”

“Well, you’re half-shampoo, half-grump right now,” he says with a smirk you can hear. “Didn’t wanna assume you were ready to talk logistics until you de-soaped.”

You don’t know what to say. So you sigh and wait for him to leave.

But he lingers.

You peek your head around the curtain again, water droplets trailing down your temple like punctuation marks to your raised eyebrows. “Barnes.”

His eyes flick up. Instantly. And then down. Instantly-er.

“Oh,” he blurts, practically recoiling, sheepishly running his hand down his face. “Still- uh- yep. Still naked. Right. Shit.”

“You literally knew that going in the first time. And now you did it again,” you deadpan, grinning at how fast he suddenly backs away again.

“I wasn’t- I mean, I still didn’t see anything, not that I was looking. Or trying to look. I just thought- well, Alpine was done sniffin’ the rug and I figured maybe food- ya know what? Never mind.”

The door squeaks.

“Bucky,” you call just before it closes again.

He pauses. Leans back with only half his face showing - one hand gripping the edge of the frame as though it might keep him tethered.

You soften. You can’t help it. “Takeout sounds good.”

He smiles, small and crooked and pleased, and god help you, it tugs at something in your chest that makes you want to sit down and cry for no reason at all.

“Got it, sweetheart.” His voice is warm again. Familiar. “I’ll get the usual. You just… take your time. Wash the world off.”

You nod. And he’s gone again.

You hear his footsteps pad down the hallway.

With a sigh that’s 60% fondness, 30% embarrassment, and 10% utter, unrelenting this man, you lean back into the steam, your heart performing some frantic dance in your chest.

Outside, Alpine lets out a mewl that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

“You don’t accidentally end up sharing a life.”

- Erin Hahn

[deepspace-scenarios]

[scenario/drabble] Not Like That

Summary: LIs react when you hum a breakup song around them, getting worried when they pick up on the lyrics about an unhappy relationship. You comfort them when you realise they misunderstood and got spooked. It all ends well <3 (based on a submitted prompt)

Genre: Fluff (mild hurt/comfort bc the men got terrified)

SYLUS

You hum the chorus while folding laundry, oblivious- until Sylus’s hand stops yours. “Interesting choice of lyrics.” His tone is light, but his crimson eyes are sharp. “Care to explain why you’re singing about replacing me?”

Your stomach drops. Oh, shit- the lyrics. “Wait- I just like the melody-”

He takes a step closer. “Because I hear you singing about... needing someone ‘inside’,”

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “And if that's your wish, I’ll ruin you until you forget your own name.”

His words send a flurry of flashbacks to the night before- him carrying you from the living room to the bed, with you already kissed breathless at that point. And what happened after you got to the bed still brings a fresh wave of heat creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

“You’re thinking loudly again, kitten.”

“Yeah, of you.” You tiptoe, draping your arms on his shoulder to look into his eyes. “Only you,” you murmur, kissing him softly when he leans down, “You’re all I ever want and need, Sylus. I mean it.”

He nips your lip. “Mm. Why don't you say that again?”

You slap his chest lightly, “Don’t push your luck,”

His hands find your hips as he holds you against the dresser, closing the space between you. “Hm. But you owe me a proper apology, sweetie.”

Sylus never pouts, but this is the closest expression he’s ever made. And you see it- just barely hidden by his calm facade- is an earnest longing for reassurance. As if you'd ever, ever need anybody else when he is standing right in front of you. It tugs at your heartstrings.

You brush your thumb along his ear. “I’m sorry for scaring you, baby. I’ll make it up to you,”

His chest rumbles with a satisfied hum as he brings you closer to him.

_____

ZAYNE

Zayne pauses mid-sip of tea as you sing "He gives what he can~" under your breath, pouring yourself a second cup. His hazel-green eyes narrow. “Are you… unhappy?” The question is calm, but his knuckles tighten around his mug.

You open your mouth to explain, but he cuts you off. “I’d rather you tell me than sing it to a playlist.”

His bluntness speaks volumes- while he could be curt and straightforward, it’s rare for him to speak like this on lazy weekend mornings. You feel your heart sink when you see him watching you with unmasked concern. You hurriedly set the teapot down on the coffee table, turning to him.

You place your hands around his, guiding him to put his mug down. “Oh, Zaynie- I’m- it’s not that,”

He blinks, then exhales, gazing at his hands enclosed by yours. Only then, do you move closer to cup his face. “It’s just a random song. I promise. You make me happier than anything.”

He nods, pulling you into his chest. “... Please choose one that doesn’t make my pulse spike.”

You think of the cutest, cheesiest love ballad from animated movies- then you start singing, serenading him. You barely get to the pre-chorus when you see him struggle to fight off a growing smile, and you poke his cheeks, continuing to sing.

“Thank you,” He whispers when you stop, his smile gentle.

You tackle him in a hug, “Don’t thank me, you silly, beautiful man I love you so, so much”

_____

XAVIER

The last of the night’s dishes are cleared away from the table and stacked near the sink. Xavier’s blue eyes widen as you sing "Softer, harder, in between" while rinsing soap off some dishes he hands you.

“You- want that?” His voice cracks.

“Huh?” You freeze when realization hits- you’ve been singing for a while now, and the lyrics are hardly anything suitable for a cosy night in. It’s about intimacy, sure- but also about heartbreak, cheating, and things that you won’t ever relate to. “No! It’s just catchy!”

He steps closer, rinsing his hands under the tap and using the front of his shirt to dry them hastily. Fingers trembling as they brush your waist. “If there’s anything I’m doing wrong, or something I’m not doing… whatever you need. Just let me know.”

Pain squeezes your heart. “Xavier, you’re my everything. There’s nothing wrong with us, it’s just a song.”

With a shaky sigh, he buries his face in your neck. “My starlight, please don’t scare me like that. I don't think I can bear the thought of... whatever you were singing about,"

You wrap your arms around him, reaching up to stroke his hair. “Xavi- I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I really am,”

You feel him press a kiss to the side of your neck. “It's ‘kay,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing your skin as he speaks.

"I should've given you context-" you continue, but he shakes his head as he pulls away to look at you, his blue eyes as calm as ever.

His hands on your waist are steady now- firm, even. “There is only one context that matters. Which one are you requesting for tonight? Softer… or harder?”

_____

RAFAYEL

Rafayel drops his paintbrush when you murmur the lyrics "He is stable, you are deep."

“Excuse me? I’m the boring one?!” His eyes flash as whirls around, bristling with indignance.

You try to backtrack, but he’s already draping himself over you. “I’ll drown you in ‘deep,’” he huffs, covering your face in kisses as he nuzzles against you like a disgruntled cat marking his owner. As much as he hates cats, he does act like one in times like these.

“Raf, I'm sorry! It really mmmph–” he smothers you with another kiss, “it's just a song- I'm not-”

You get cut off by a flurry of kisses pressed to your cheeks, the corner of your lips, then your mouth.

You cup his face and squeeze his cheeks likely. “My love, I'm trying to apologize to you!”

He frowns, “And stable is not in my vocabulary. Glub glub,”

(He kisses you senseless, and only then does a satisfied smile return to grace his features.)

_____

CALEB

Caleb’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as you absentmindedly sing a tune that's been on your playlist for the past week.

When you get to the lyrics "Oh yeah, baby, touch me”, he stops you, voice quietly cutting through the cabin. “…Who.”

It’s not a question. You panic when understanding dawns on you. “Wait- it's not- It’s just a song, Caleb!”

He lets out a sharp exhale, keeping his eyes straight ahead and drives until you exit the highway.

He pulls over.

“Then why does it sound like a confession of sorts? Are we having a falling-out?” He grits out.

You gently place your hand over his white-knuckles, brushing your fingers over his. “This song's just been on my playlist… it means nothing to me. I promise, Caleb.”

He sighs, flexing his fingers to release his grip on the steering wheel. He catches your wrist softly, then presses a kiss onto your palm. “Just… tell me if there's something wrong, yeah? You can take it out on me, but just- just don't sing breakup songs like that,”

The desperate tinge in his voice makes your heart sink, and you pull him close to peck his cheek, then his lips. His shoulders loosen, yet his violet eyes glimmer with depths of unspoken fears.

“Okay,” you nod, then tap the tip of his nose lightly. “Mr Colonel, I'm guilty of making you worried, so- you can deal with me as you see fit when we get home,”

He breathes a shaky laugh, raking his fingers through his hair. “God damn, pips. You're really trying to give me cardiac arrest today,”

Note: This came from a submitted prompt <3 It was a little tricky to write bc i couldnt fully imagine how they'd react in that situation ngl?? Lmk what yall think :') also I have a few WIPS but atm my brain is playing kpdh songs all day and its a bit hard to think and write i keep wanting to write lads men as the saja boys ANYWAYS THANKS YALL FOR READING <33 Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

✨️

[everydaylouie]

had an idea for a barbershop quartet Hatsune Miku ballad.........

(lyrics below the cut!)

i have a voice

i’ll sing your tune

sing about the sun and stars and moon

but in the end

it’s up to you 

i sing your song

and that’s all that i ever do

every note

is made by you

what’s a blue haired, pigtailed girl to do

in the end

i make no sound

oh the songs i’d sing if you were not around!

i sing your song

all night long

never wrong

but i just sing along…

the tune is done

and I’m a star

i feel so close and yet so very far

in the end

it’s up to you

i sing your song

and that’s all I ever do

[kxsagi]

Omg omg hc of blue lock boys of your choice with a reader who is literally like a Disney princess😍😍😍 like she sings, energetic, maybe even sassy and is very friendly to animals🙏🙏🙏

“𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭”

a/n: i'm sorry if this didn't come out how you wanted, for some reason the concept was a little hard for me to write (maybe bc i don't watch much disney movies), but i do love the disney princesses! jasmine is my favorite she's literally such a queen

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, bachira meguru, karasu tabito, mikage reo, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, ness alexis

isagi yoichi

you once sang to a squirrel. like, full-on ballad. isagi swore he hallucinated the moment, especially when the squirrel climbed on your shoulder and patted your cheek like it understood your song. 

ever since then, he’s convinced you’re an anime magical girl in the wrong franchise. 

tries to match your disney energy by singing too. but isagi cannot sing. and he knows it. still, he tries. 

you sang a lullaby to a stray cat once and he joined in. the cat left. 

he keeps googling “how to be a prince” and accidentally ends up watching tik toks of golden retriever boyfriends doing surprise picnics. 

he tries it. ends up getting chased by a goose when he lays the blanket too close to its nest. you were delighted. “look, she’s just being a protective mother 🥰” 

isagi becomes very protective of you in the weirdest ways. like he’ll gently move you away from a puddle. or carry you down a hill. or try to scare off a butterfly because “what if it’s poisonous– okay yes i know that’s dumb but what if???” 

whenever you twirl in a dress, he visibly malfunctions and has to look away so he doesn’t combust. 

itoshi sae

sae stares at you a lot. not in a romantic sigh way but in a how did this fairy get here and why is she harmonizing with a duck kind of way. 

he genuinely doesn’t understand how you’re real. 

“you talk to birds like they pay rent.” 

“they listen to me because i treat them with kindness 🥰” 

“… okay, but that was literally a seagull. those things eat trash and lie.” 

you once hugged a tree and thanked it for providing shade. sae thought about walking into the ocean. 

he acts completely unfazed, but he finds you ridiculously charming. like, the way you wave at ants or hum while cooking makes him stare like he's trying to process his emotions with a firewall installed. 

despite being your grumpy opposite, he lowkey enables your princess habits. like, he’ll pretend he’s not watching, but he makes sure your sunflower you planted is getting sunlight. or casually shoves his jacket on you when you go off to “chat with the forest frogs.” 

once called you “your highness” sarcastically. you said, “thank you, loyal knight 🫶” and he didn’t respond because he was smiling. actually smiling. 

itoshi rin

you sang a duet with a stray cat and rin almost called an exorcist. 

he’s constantly confused. like you’re his girlfriend but you also frolic. he doesn’t even know how to walk normally, how are you frolicking?? 

the type to stand stiffly while you dance around him like “i baked cookies and named them after clouds ☁️” 

he does make a huge effort to match your energy in his own emotionally stunted way. 

you say “ohh look at the baby ducklings!” 

rin says “don’t touch them, the mom might abandon them, and you’ll be sad. so. i’m helping you.” (read: “i care about your feelings and am therefore protecting ducklings.”) 

he tried to write you a poem once, but it turned into something that rhymed “love” with “shove” because he couldn’t think of a second line and got mad. 

when you call him your prince, he gets flustered and says, “you’re delusional,” but his ears turn pink. then he glares at a pigeon for landing on your head like how DARE you touch her royal scalp. 

shidou ryusei

no thoughts. just: “you’re like if a cupcake and an anime girl had a baby and gave it forest powers.” 

shidou is obsessed with you. like, he tells people he’s dating a disney princess. seriously. even his mom knows. 

he goes feral trying to impress you. “babe, if i punch this wall hard enough will birds sing around me?” 

“no, baby, they’ll die of fear.” 

wants to be your prince SO bad. but like… a hot prince. shirtless. scar across his chest. mysterious backstory. dramatic cape. 

you keep asking him to rescue frogs from the street and he does, but dramatically. like, scoops them up and says, “run now, tiny king. be free 🐸” 

tried to serenade you once with an electric guitar solo. ended up scaring away every squirrel within a 3-mile radius. you clapped anyway and he fell in love harder. 

buys matching crowns from party city. calls you “princess peach” in public. if you ever wear a tiara he will bark. literally. bark. 

bachira meguru

soulmate behavior. the two of you are like woodland creatures who learned to talk and fell in love. 

you sing to animals. he joins in. you hold hands and spin. you both fall down. it’s beautiful. 

you talk to flowers. he gives them voices. “this one’s name is kebi and he’s tired of the bees stealing his pollen. kebi wants to unionize.” 

he wants to be your prince, but not the boring ones. he wants to be your chaos prince. 

wears a cape made of leaves. tries to do parkour off a bench to “save” you from a duck. fails. gets pecked. 

he loves being your sidekick. will 100% carry a birdseed pouch in his pocket for you. 

if you ever cry, he sings your song in a squeaky falsetto voice until you laugh. then kisses your forehead and says “no tears, disney queen. only sparkles and mushrooms now.” 

karasu tabito

confused, but intrigued. 

you're the exact opposite of what he expected to fall for. like, he’s loud, sarcastic, slightly gremlin-coded. and you? you're out here rescuing caterpillars and naming them after weather patterns. 

he pretends he’s too cool for it, but one time you kissed a frog on the nose “just in case,” and he started googling “how to compete with amphibians.” 

calls you “cinderella” when you sweep the kitchen while humming. but gets all weirdly quiet when you smile and say “does that make you my prince?” 

once tried to whistle to a bird to impress you. accidentally summoned a seagull that stole his sandwich. he says he planned it. he did not. 

tries to “be your prince” by doing dumb macho things like lifting heavy stuff or getting rid of spiders, then looking at you like “yeah. masculine. clap for me.” 

you clap every time. he pretends to hate it. he loves it. 

said “i’d kiss your hand, but that squirrel looks like it’s guarding you with its life.” 

mikage reo

THRIVES in your fairytale aesthetic. he lives for it. the moment you twirled in a flowy skirt and sang a song about chasing butterflies, he fell face-first in love. 

immediately starts planning castle dates. “babe. listen. what if i rented a pony for your birthday. no, better, what if i bought one. no, wait, two. for company.” 

keeps trying to match your energy but comes off like a spoiled nobleman instead of a prince. 

“i shall protect you, my flower 🌹” 

“reo. that’s a bunny.” 

“it looked suspicious.” 

tries to learn how to sing just to harmonize with you. takes one lesson and gives up because “my vibrato sounded like a dying microwave.” 

you make daisy chains for squirrels and he’s just standing behind you like 🧍“should i be kneeling or proposing right now?” 

bought a matching heart-shaped hairbrush for you and his golden retriever. made it a family bonding activity. 

panics when you get sad because he doesn’t know how to comfort “royal-level emotions.” ends up buying you eight plushies and baking a lopsided cake. 

nagi seishiro

calls you “princess” every five seconds but with zero effort. 

“hey princess, hand me the remote.” 

“nap time, princess.” 

“don’t get kidnapped by birds again, princess.” 

he’s so lazy but somehow still ends up doing prince stuff just because you look at him with sparkly eyes. 

you: “i wish someone would get that book on the top shelf…” 

nagi, already getting up from the couch: “ugh. annoying. but okay.” 

doesn’t care about animals at all, but when he saw a bluebird perch on your hand, he looked at it like it was personally challenging him for your love. 

“what does that bird have that i don’t?” 

“hollow bones, probably.” 

once tried to build you a swing out of vines “like in those disney movies.” it broke in five seconds. you landed in a flower bush. he gave you a thumbs up and said, “you looked like a floating fairy, though.” 

lets you braid his hair and put flowers in it while he plays on his phone. tells people you’re magical every chance he gets. 

never shows it, but he’s proud to be your “lazy prince.” doesn’t need a sword, he’s fighting dragons by napping harder than anyone else. 

kaiser michael

oh he is OBSESSED. 

the moment you sang a lullaby to a baby duck, he spun around like “okay who let a disney NPC escape from the movie set?” 

tries to act all cool and aloof, but he’s a disaster behind the scenes. googled “how to be a fairytale prince” at 3 AM. also googled “can i duel a squirrel for my girlfriend’s honor?” 

when you call animals “my little friends,” he gets jealous. 

“you said i was your special little guy.” 

“you are, mihya.” 

“then why are you feeding peanuts to that raccoon like he pays the bills???” 

bought you a designer gown because “you need to look the part.” tries to get you to wear it in public. you wore a sundress with a flower crown instead and he still blushed. 

if you sing, he joins in dramatically, full musical-style. starts spinning in circles, grabs a broom and pretends it’s a sword. adds background vocals. the neighbors are scared. 

secretly wants you to draw hearts on his face with glitter paint and call him “my brave knight.” won’t say it out loud, but he does pout when you give all the affection to birds instead. 

ness alexis

ness adores you. thinks you’re the most magical being on earth. he worships the ground you skip on. 

tries so hard to act like your princely bodyguard. bows to you constantly. opens every door. whispers “your majesty” when he hands you snacks. 

loves how sweet you are to animals, but he gets suspicious of them. like, side-eyes squirrels. whispers “watch yourself, buddy” to a raccoon once. 

when you sing, he gasps like it’s a royal performance and claps dramatically. probably cries the first time you serenade him. 

“that was beautiful! i’m going to cry. i’ll cry for both of us if you don’t want to mess up your makeup.” 

insists on practicing ballroom dancing in the living room with you. spins you once, gets dizzy, falls into the couch, and just lies there like “i regret nothing.” 

his entire camera roll is blurry zoomed-in pics of you feeding ducks or talking to bees. sends them to kaiser with captions like “she is the light of the world 🐝” 

once drew a glitter crown on your forehead with makeup pen and called it “your princess seal.” he wore a matching one. then got mad when a squirrel sat on your lap and not his. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[allfearstofallto]

"Sing for me,"

Yandere! Scaramouche × Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

An order. Not a request. Scaramouche who tended to spend his moments in silence, who lacked the ability to dedicate time to idle chatter. Scaramouche who believes that all words spoken, that any phrase uttered had have meaning, told you to do something. And it was expected that you do it. Not a request. Scaramouche didn't make requests.

Requests were for those weak and unable to assume power over others. No. Request weren't suited for Scaramouche. The man in front of you, with sharp, piercing, blue eyes framed in red, and a snarl so pressed onto his lips it could be permanent, was telling you to do something. Your husband was giving you an order. Not doing it wasn't an option.

"My throat is parched, my lord," you spoke softly. So quiet, a mouse could've been louder than you and Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. There you were again, speaking with no purpose. Speaking like someone with no authority. The balladeer hated when you spoke silently, but you were given his mercy and met with just the hike of his eyebrow.

Scaramouche raised a nimble hand, fingers long and thin. He snapped them. The sound reverberated, billowed and echoed, louder than your meek sounding voice. With just a snap of his fingers a maid rushed in. Head lowered, eyes cast towards the floor, hands one in front of the other.

"Tea," another order. Spat in his venomous tone. In less than a heart beat she was out the door and down the hall. It only took a few more agonizing moments before she returned with a tray carrying one of his many expensive tea sets.

Scaramouche was a man who didn't see the need in having anything lavish. He had a home because you needed somewhere to lay his head. He had maids because you were only to lift you hands to do for him. Although, he was always willing to spend a little excessively on one thing and one thing alone. His tea sets. The one thing he loved more than a glass of tea was you, maybe that's why he always spent so much to make sure that they were as beautiful as you.

A glass was poured with steady hands. No sugar, of course. Scaramouche turned his nose upwards at the sight of anything sweet. His home was one without confections, his preference leaning towards the bitter.

You sipped from the glass, nearly burning your tongue as you tried to drink it down quickly. He was growing impatient. You could see it. Elbow resting on the desk, his chin on his hand, his other was placed on his arm rest, tapping angrily. Each firm tap of that fingertip matching the beating of your heart, a rhythmic, primal sound that only made your mouth more dry.

"Sing," he ordered again. This time, his word had an even more harsh, biting sting to it. If that were even possible.

"Any song you wish to hear in particular, my lord?"

Sharp blue eyes were on you once more, his hand that was once tapping was now gripping the armrest. You met his gaze and felt your blood run cold. Scaramouche clicked his teeth.

"Why are you making this harder than it needs to be?"

That was his way of telling you that he didn't care which song, just as long as you sang.

You cleared your throat one last time and opened your mouth. Your voice, rich and strong flooded through his office, basking him in your sorrowful song. He always insisted he didn't have a preference, but Scaramouche would always praise you more when your song was one of melancholy.

And melancholic it was. You always sang of home. Of freedom. In a language he didn't understand, he didn't know that you were singling of what was lost. Or maybe he did and just didn't care. He knew how homesick you were and wanted to constantly remind you of what could have been. Of the life you could've had, had things not gone the way they did.

It was hard not to cry when you sang. Your voice, which was once used to entertain the masses, was now being monopolized by one abhorrent person. So you cried. Your voice never wavered as when the tears cascaded down your face. Your song only grew more rich with your sorrow.

Maybe that's why he always insisted you sing your pretty songs for him. At the sight of your tears, a little smirk would cross his lips and his harsh gaze would change to one of triumph. A looked that claimed ownership of you, your talents, and your tears.

AN: I wanted to write a reader from Fontaine, so I decided to make her an opera singer!

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

In universe, how long d'you think does it take for someone to write Jake Berenson: The Musical? And what's everyone's reactions once it premiers?

I feel like everyone would go into the musical with no small amount of trepidation, because a) musical, and b) actual war. That said...

Act I, Scene 1: Our protagonist, Jake, comes onstage alone. He sings a song about the aching loneliness of leadership. Not only does he have to decide how to lead his friends, not only does he have no one to confide in, but now his entire family are controllers. He's worried for his parents, but feels he cannot confide that worry in anyone.

Out in the audience, Cassie reaches for Jake's hand, tears sparkling in her eyes. As soon as her hand rests on top of his, he jerks awake with a mumbled apology about how slow ballads aren't his thing. He asks Cassie what he missed. This pattern will continue for the entire rest of the show.

Act I, Scene 2: We meet our narrator, who for some reason is one of the Trekkin' Trekkies from the battle for the hork-bajir valley. His name is Angelo and he's a fictional character, but he introduces four other Trekkies, meant to be the Carpenter family, as the Geek Chorus. The play apparently considers this deeply clever.

In the audience, Tobias glances over at Ax, who holds up an ASL 84: their time left in morph. Next to them, in a not-quiet-enough whisper, Cassie is reminding Jake who the Carpenters were. Yes, she's aware they met the Carpenters before his parents were infested. No, she doesn't think the writers care. This seems to be an artistic interpretation of — Would he just watch the show?

Act I, Scene 3: The actor playing Jake calls his five friends onstage. They're all currently humans, so the Geek Chorus introduces them so that everyone will know who is who. Together, they sing a song about the hopelessness of the war, the power of friendship, and how all they have is each other.

Marco leans over to nudge Tobias. "Love the hair," he whispers, referring to show-Tobias's elaborate dark-brown coif. Tobias gives him a real smile in return, not because he likes fictional-him's hair but because he's secretly pleased that the show so clearly put effort into casting himself and Ax to look alike. Doesn't matter that they don't actually share any DNA; family is family.

Act I, Scene 4: The morphing. Oh lord, the morphing. The idea to make it a dance number—cum—costume change is kinda cool. The use of very saggy-looking cloth puppets is... less so. The fact that the Angelo and his Geek Chorus introduces The God of Tigers, The God of Gorillas, and so on is... inexplicable. Especially because The God of Andalites is just a human guy who has been painted blue. Presumably this is all to distract from the puppet show, which ranges dramatically in quality. By far the best effect is Tobias: they have the human actor fly a bird-puppet across the stage on long posts overhead, all the while staring wistfully up at it as if simultaneously inhabiting the bird and being a human watching the bird longingly from the ground. By far the worst is Rachel: she's just an elephant head that clearly has no body attached to it, poking out from behind various pieces of scenery.

In the audience, Marco is laughing so hard that he's threatening to fall out of his seat, doubled over with his fingers stuffed in his mouth. Cassie nudges Jake awake again, but in a you've got to see this kind of way. "Damn," Tobias mutters, "guess the Ellimist really really hated that production of The Lion King, huh?" Ax misses all of this, too busy staring at The God of Andalites with his mouth half-open in confusion, several mini-marshmallows falling onto his lap in the process.

Act I, Scene 5: Visser Three steals the show. In order to convey the battle for the hork-bajir valley, the cast starts to go into the big company number — the Trekkies singing about how they're going to defend their planet, the Animorphs singing about their morphs, a human dressed as a hork-bajir singing about forging a new home, the controller chorus singing about wanting more bodies — only to have the whole thing blown out of the water by the actors playing Visser Three singing overtop everyone else and drowning them out. That's right, actors: he's in his eight-headed fire-shooting morph, and each of the heads is played by a different actor as they belt out his song in unison overtop everyone else.

"Am I... cheering for Visser Three right now?" Marco whispers to Cassie, who shrugs. Jake jerks awake at the mention of Visser Three, mumbles something about how Hamilton was better, and goes back to sleep. But Marco's not the only one.

Act I, Scene 6: There's supposed to be a battle or something, and if we're supposed to be very sad when Richard Carpenter is heroically killed protecting his kids... but Visser Three is so damn awesome that the whole audience cheers every time he bites someone's head off or throws another Animorph off-stage. Eventually the battle ends just like it did in reality, with the hork-bajir flooding the valley to sweep Visser Three away, at which point everyone boos and even briefly breaks into a chant demanding Visser Three get an encore.

Tobias momentarily questions his entire existence as he enthusiastically joins in with Marco and most of the rest of the audience in chanting "Vis-ser Three! Vis-ser Three!". They're still going strong a good two minutes after the curtain fell, and there's no sign of anyone being able to go into the next scene. Jake mutters something about his having been Visser One at this point in the war, lost under the sound of Cassie joining in with the chant.

Act I, Scene 7: The curtain opens to a set piece that's clearly meant to be a giant tree, and all the Animorphs are sitting in said tree. The stage is covered in smoke from dry ice, meant to convey foam from the flood. Behind them, in a smaller tree, the surviving Trekkies huddle and drip on the floor. Tobias's human actor now cradles the hawk-puppet in his arms, preening its feathers, while everyone else perches on "branches" in poses that range from natural-looking (Marco in a gorilla costume) to extremely awkward (Ax is meant to be out of morph and... standing on a branch?). Worst of all is Rachel; the elephant head is now sitting directly on the stage, which is meant to convey that the rest of her body is underwater but instead just gives head-in-a-jar vibes. The six of them sing an uplifting rock number about the future of humanity, and the curtain falls on Act I.

After ducking into the bathroom to demorph and remorph, Tobias and Ax head for the concession stand. Marco tries and fails to get a themed cocktail for himself, but does succeed in buying a tiger brownie for Jake. Meanwhile, Cassie is attempting to summarize the entire show to Jake as he wipes drool off the side of his face.

Act II, Scene 1: One of the better songs in the show, honestly. It begins when the surviving Geek Chorus come out in front of the curtain, lay out sleeping bags, and apparently — though it can't be real because the auditorium doesn't fill with smoke — light a fire on stage. They huddle around it and sing a sad little melody about Richard Carpenter. Jake walks past them, and as he goes, first one side of the curtain then the other opens to reveal five more campfires dotted around the stage. Jake stops to speak briefly with each of the little groups, checking in, though no dialog is heard. Tobias sits at one with a blond woman who must be Loren, human for now and petting a stuffed dog. Cassie is at the next fire back with both her parents, and Marco is at far stage left with his. Rachel is sitting with Sara in her lap as Jordan and Naomi talk to her across the fire. An actor who must be playing Jara leads on a smaller costar also dressed as a hork-bajir, presumably Toby, and they set up a final fire upstage. One by one, each group around the fire joins in the song of mourning. Finally Jake stands alone downstage right, surrounded by warm glowing lights but himself alone in a circle of cold white light, as the last notes fade out.

Tobias mutters something about fire codes. Cassie wipes a tear from her eye, and then kicks Jake in the shins for whispering about how if Eva is right there on the stage, then how could that other guy be Visser Three?

Act II, Scene 2: Jake stands alone in the spotlight as the fires die behind him, and Ax comes in from stage left to join him. Together they go into a number called "The Only Child," about losing a sibling and being one's parents' only hope. During the coda, Elfangor's ghost comes onstage and sings about fatherhood and legacy... to Jake. To add insult to injury, the actor has to walk around Tobias and stand with his back to Tobias and Loren's fire in order to get to his blocking. At least Elfangor takes the time to put a hand on Ax's arm and give him a meaningful look before he exits stage right, but he has to walk around Tobias a second time to do so.

Cassie and Marco exchange a glance and a wince, before both of them look toward Tobias. Luckily he's rolling his eyes, not appearing offended. It's Ax who gets halfway to standing up before Jake puts a hand on his arm and shakes his head. In undertones, they start plotting an angry letter to the director.

Act II, Scene 3: Luckily, this is when Visser Three comes back, to uproarious approval. Now the eight actors are each playing four arms of a Lerdethak vine-beast, and in unison sing a campy rock number called "Kids These Days," about Visser Three's hatred for teenagers. In the background, the controller chorus is working to build a new yeerk pool as the Trekkies narrate about the Yeerk Empire expanding its reach on Earth.

All the Animorphs join in on the audience's cheers, and this time they do get an encore: the Visser Three actors sing a whole bunch more riffs on the final note of the song, and even do the coda again from the top, to universal acclaim.

Act II, Scene 4: The various gods of the animal spirits do a number about how the Animorphs aren't just fighting for humanity; they're fighting for Earth.

This one goes up like a lead balloon. Jake picks brownie crumbs out of his shirt, regretting that the chocolate is now keeping him from sleeping. Marco reads his program and groans loudly to learn that Visser Three doesn't have any solo numbers left. A kid is kicking the back of Tobias's seat, and he debates kicking back.

Act II, Scene 5: The Animorphs morph again, which is just as awful as the first time, and they all attack Visser Three (to general audience disapproval). In this version of events, Ax simply announces to Visser Three that they partnered with some rebel yeerks and taxxons at some point, and then throws a switch that turns off every ship in the Yeerk Empire at once. Since the Animorphs are all in the Pool ship at the time, this seems ill-advised; projections on the back wall convey everyone onboard falling to Earth.

"Why do they even have that lever?" Marco asks plaintively. No one answers him.

Act II, Scene 6: Everyone, including Elfangor's ghost and Richard Carpenter for some reason, comes back on stage for a big dance number. The Animorphs remain in morph for this scene, with Tobias's actor once again killing it as he swoops his puppet kite-like over the audience and Rachel's actor once again DOA as she half-heartedly waves one ear.

Everyone claps politely through the chorus's bow, then Elfangor's bow, then the parents' bow, then the hork-bajir's bow... and then Visser Three comes out to bow. The crowd is instantly on its feet, screaming and stomping and applauding with their hands in the air. Then people start trickling out and having side conversations during the Animorphs' bows. Tobias gets in line to have the Tobias actor autograph his playbill. "I told you we should've gone to see Assassins," Marco complains, and Cassie laughingly agrees. Jake buys another tiger brownie for the road, and gets one for Ax as well.

[ladythornofrivia]

THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL, THE LOSER HAS TO FALL ||

Coriolanus Snow x Volunteered Tribute!Reader

summary: reader takes lucy gray’s place for the Hunger Games, and Coriolanus underestimated the reader.

warning: death, stalking, manipulation, violence, mdni, blood, bloodlust, reader’s a skilled tribute

a/n: hi guys! i’m back. here for part one of coriolanus snow and reader. i read the ballad of songbirds and snakes.

There will be no Plinth prize for the Hunger Games, according to Sejanus Plinth, who everyone assumed is Coriolanus’s friend. Coriolanus anticipated the prize for him to enter the university. As Dr. Volumnia Gaul announced for the 10th annual Hunger Games, she declared that she won’t be around forever. Meaning the new gamemaker must take her place, meaning the Hunger Games will continue on, for who knows how long. As for Casca Highbottom, he wished for the Games cease to exist, drinking morphling from a little trinket.

Casca Highbottom warned to not cheat, but something inside of him said he doesn’t want to have the Hunger Games every year.

Putting the spectacle on, he read off the paper contained the list of the tributes and the mentors by the Reaping Ceremony began. Students cheered and congratulated the mentors, depending what kind of tribute the mentors were getting.

Arachne Crane’s smug worn when she got a different district.

“Oh, you’ll be happy about this, Miss Crane,” Casca began, standing up, “The runt girl. District 12.” Then he had his eyes fixed on Coriolanus, as Casca Highbottom said, “She belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

Coriolanus darted his pale blue eyes up to the screen, to see a selected tribute.

+++

You were nothing compared to Lucy Gray, the songbird from District 12. She’s part of he Covey, traveling from place to place, singing her songs and writing music is all she could do. She had charm and class, and you had none.

A special songbird, singing with her guitar and her special charm exuding her aura for all to see and to be swayed by her. She’s the perfect. But you were nobody. You were born from District 7, lumber, somehow you moved here in District 12, the sector of coal mines and soot. Everyone was unclean.

During the day of the Reaping, everyone stood still, awaiting for the mayor’s words. Until he came up to the mic and announced, “Lucy Gray Baird”.

Several gasps entered, immediately looking at Lucy Gray. Watching afar, you knew she’s not a fighter. She has extreme charm, but she’s not a great asset to the Games.

Reluctantly, Lucy Gray went out and approached the stage. The cameras panned on her as she strode.

Before even stepping onto the stage, you intervened. “Lucy Gray!”

All eyes were on you. And the cameras panned onto you quick—a girl in a crimson dress—red amongst the blues and grays.

Meanwhile the Capitol students in the academy, whispered.

On the screen, you appeared in a red dress with a bow behind your hair, flowing in the wind as you approached Lucy Gray but the Peacekeepers stopped you with the rifles pointed at you.

Lucy Gray’s eyes widened in shock, telling you, “No, (Y/N). No.”

“Lucy Gray,” you shouted, but then the Peacekeepers seized and blocked you, tackling you on the ground as you shouted, “I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER!”

As you stand up, you pushed the guards aside. “I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE!”

Their hearts stopped. The Reaping went silent as a grave, but the shock on their faces was haunting.

Meanwhile the Capitol, the students in the Academy murmured in an agitated anticipation as Coriolanus got his interest piqued. Not in years during the annual Games ever volunteered in the previous years. This has to be the first.

“Is she crazy?”

“She’s willing to take Lucy Gray’s place?”

“This is the first time I heard of volunteering.”

“She must be out of her mind. Suicidal much?”

“Either she’s crazy or brave. Or both.”

Coriolanus’s heart stopped, too, feeling like the world has ended on his part.

She…volunteered, he thought.

On the screen, you’ve been let go off and embraced Lucy Gray.

“See? I’m fine. We’re both fine,” you said, not minding the cameras. “You’re gonna be okay. Take care of yourself, okay?” you said with a bright smile, patting her shoulders.

Lucy Gray liked your bright smile, but her tears were dripping up close. She can’t cry, not in front of the cameras. You knew that she’s a strong soul to provide comfort within District 12 with her songs with The Covey.

She can’t go.

“Take care of my friend,” she whispered, quivering a little, she eyed on the stage regarding to address on watching her friend, Jessup Diggs.

You nodded with determination fired within you.

“Everything will be okay,” you mouthed as the Peacekeepers escorted you with brute force up on the stage. As you look back, Lucy Gray mourned, but she wasn’t showing it as she’s placed back into the row, safe and sound.

There, you met the Mayor, who was discontented at your sudden volunteer. So does the Mayor’s daughter, Mayfair. As for Lucy Gray’s ex-boyfriend, Billy Taupe, was shocked at the revelation, a changed course in destiny.

“What’s your name,” Mayor Lipp asked, he stepped back for you to take the stage.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”

Mayor Lipp is still displeased. His fists clenched at the folded paper—the once was once called now has taken its place to a different direction.

The crowd now knew your name. You weren’t just some nobody anymore. You’re the person who’s brave enough—or stupidly reckless—to volunteer in taking Lucy Gray’s place.

Meanwhile in the Capitol, in the grand ceremony in the Heavensbee Hall, everyone spoke of your name.

Nothing like the tributes since the first Games. Something stirred inside Coriolanus, and it made him felt…honorable and important. You made him powerful within an instant. He needed a strong presence and a strong conviction, and you were just a perfect tribute.

Maybe the Games won’t be terrible, after all.

As you turned around, Mayor Lipp still gave you a death glare before being escorted by the Peacekeepers. And there, you met a certain tribute named Jessup Diggs. Your head dipped into a bow, and gave him a brief handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jessup,” you said with a gentle smile.

Something’s never been seen before from a tribute. Not only she’s brave, but graceful.

Something out of the ordinary.

The students gossiped again. It was out of nowhere, and changing, as if your presence was welcoming and inviting.

Coriolanus was overwhelmed with a newly presence you’ve brought onto the stage. A duality. Again, is what he needed from his tribute. But you exceeded from his negative expectations. Perhaps this could be his chance to win the Games, and restore his family name to a proper glory. A proper welcome, a proper reputation and money.

Meanwhile, Casca Highbottom wasn’t pleased at your rebellious nature on taking someone’s place, but there were no rules on regarding to the Games. His gloomy eyes darted in subtle anger towards Coriolanus. Coriolanus knew he hated everyone, and despised Coriolanus the most. For what reason, he never knew why Casca despised Coriolanus. The minimal effort of glare told all stories.

Coriolanus, on the other hand, was enamored with the idea of winning the Games, as you were waving at the cameras farewell.

+++

After encountering with Casca Highbottom’s veil threats, Coriolanus spoke to Tigris.

“She’s friendly. She seems healthy. But she looks weak,” he said, pacing the room.

“Coryo, it’s not just about winning,” Tigris protested.

“Everything’s about winning,” he said. “She may wave and gave a handshake in front of the crowd, but she won’t win with friendliness in the arena.”

Tigris shook her head. “She’s brave. Braver than I thought. She took someone’s place.”

Coriolanus did not like her statement. “If there’s something I could pull out of her, maybe there’s a chance to have a great advantage.”

“I wouldn’t be friendly to you, if I was her. I wouldn’t do anything at all. Unless I could trust you.”

“She’s from the District, Tigris. She knows were against her, and her against us. How am I supposed to get her trust?”

“Imagine if it was your name that they pulled and you have been ripped from your home. I just want to know if somebody still cared about me out here. Don’t discount her just because she’s from District, Coryo,” she said to him dearly. “Who knows you might get along with her. And who knows she might bring the best in both of you and herself. She needed strength and confidence, especially from a mentor.”

The next day, Coriolanus examined the white rose in his hand as he waited at the train station.

By the time, it arrived, he has searched for you. And when you got down with the help from Jessup, you spotted Coriolanus and gave him a kind smile, watched as he extended the white rose towards you.

“Welcome to the Capitol,” he greeted.

You looked at the white rose before taking it. “Thank you, for your kind welcome, sir.”

His brow flicked.

“Please, call me Coriolanus,” he said. “No need for formalities.”

You nodded. “Thank you for the rose, Coriolanus.”

Then you offered a handshake. To his shock, he complied.

And nodded.

Then you both stood still, hands still folding with each other.

“Um, what are you doing here exactly?” you said, looking at his fancy school attire.

“I’m here to welcome you,” he answered.

You giggled. “I can see that. But then it feels like you’re here for some reason.”

“I shouldn’t, but I’m your mentor,” he said.

You whistled. “Quite a rebel, huh?”

Coriolanus cringed at the word “rebel”, a poisonous word and threat in the Capitol. He’d to think himself as a good and well-behaved top academic student who likes to seize the opportunity.

“I’m only doing my best to take care of you.”

Another tribute screeched, not wanting to participate in the Games, but everyone knows it’s already too late, still whining like a child.

“Thank you so much, Coriolanus. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” your smile shone brighter as the Peacekeeper escorted you to the truck with other tributes.

Soon, Coriolanus followed you inside the truck, and soon got attacked by Reaper. “I’ll kill you right now,” he threatened.

“He’ll do it,” Dill said, coughing. “Reaper killed a Peacekeeper back in 11.”

“Quiet, Dill,” Reaper warned.

The others were ganging up on him, after being shoved onto the wall.

“Do you guys have a death wish or something? If you kill him, Capitol will do worse than the Games. Don’t you want to at least think about that?”

“Nobody has to know,” the tribute told you.

“Killing my mentor would be a bad idea, dumbass,” you said to them, annoyed. “Unless you’re looking for a worst aftermath, then be my guest.”

The tributes were shocked at your profanity, but others begrudgingly released Coriolanus.

Coriolanus straightened his attire.

“How come you get a mender?” Coral said.

“Mentor,” Coriolanus corrected. “You each get one.”

“And we’ll just trust you on that,” she dared.

“I’m just here to help you,” he said.

“How come this lady in red have a special treatment? The other menders weren’t here.”

You looked at Coriolanus. “None of them are inspired, my guess.”

Then you winked at Coriolanus.

And he smirked at your confidence.

Then the truck tipped over and the tributes slipped down, while Coriolanus took your waist and stayed intact, trying not to let go of the rope. Then his hand slipped, and slid, rolling off with the rest and they were trapped in the Capitol Zoo.

Taglist: @onyxblackwinchester @kittendoll05 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @heavenly1927 @snh96 @httpsmenace @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @liannafae @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @jolixtreesunn @screaming-potato @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @crymeariversworld @elaratyrell @fun-loving-peach @jmliebert @ilikechocolatemilkh @20thcentwriter @sepherinaspoppies @venmondiese @snowprincesa1 @1800-fight-me @fan-goddess @persephonerinyes @anukulee @viktoriaashleyyx @lcolumbia1988 @ilikemintpeassss-blog @arcielee @hippiedippiekitty @bellaisasleep @lokiofasgard12 @barnes70stark @vipervixxen @f1girlieee @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9 @dixie-elocin @lionneee @peculiarlyayse

[apollognese]

'I Can't Hear It Now' feels more like a Jinx song for Silco than for Caitlyn and Cassandra. Hear me out.

The lyrics of the song are legit more in line with Jinx and Silco from the get go.

'There is an ocean so dark down below the waves,' is literally the first line (pertaining to Silco's water motif because who else has that specific link than the one-eyed rat). And in episode 2, what to do we see?? Jinx letting him go down into the dark abyss 'below the waves'.

The next line hits even harder: 'Where you watch while these dreams gently float away'.

Everything Silco built is in ruins, his dreams for Zaun is being torn apart to the bone by power-hungry Chem-Barons, and his daughter isn't too keen on officially taking the role of revolutionary successor even when she knows it's her right or that the Undercity insisted it.

'And there is a silence so soft it's only memory

Like the way your voice always sounds when you sing to me.'

'But I can't hear it now

Just tell me how to keep breathing while pretending I'm not drowning.'

As we know, Silco never became a voice in Jinx's head (except for that one time when Isha was captured, as well as during her incarceration) and she wants him to - might have even pleaded - based on what she says to his chair in episode 4.

Also, can I just stress how Jinx probably was never scared about her dad passing because, at least, her hearing voices would mean he'd still be there?? But he didn't, and he's not able to guide her anymore or pull her out of the waters she sank herself in.

'I just watched as the door closed for good

'Cause I couldn't keep it open.'

This part is a stretch, but it might be referring to the night it all fell apart. The open door was her waiting for Vi to take Powder. Then her instincts decided for her with Silco as collateral; and when she did, Jinx took the chair.

Now, is it "disrespectful" to take Caitlyn's ballad of grief and make it about Jinx? Yep. But it leads me to a second tangent point: I didn't say all this simply to put all the attention on our favourite blue haired rebel.

The fact that the lyrics reminds me more of Jinx than Caitlyn reflects well on how the latter's perception is so warped it can't see anything past the former. Everything Cait does is centred around Jinx. When she aims her gun, it's pointing at Jinx. When she she thinks about Cassandra, there's also Jinx. Vi even says she's acting like Jinx. When I listen to this song (again, meant for Cait), I think about Jinx.

Jinx "took" this song like she did to Cait's mother, her dignity, her sanity, her identity and everything else.

[fadedpiink]

beach

txt x gn!reader

genre: fluff / comfort / slice of life / soft boyfriends / established relationships. warnings: none

soobin — sunset & silence

you’re both sprawled on a giant towel, tucked close as the sun bleeds gold into the ocean. soobin’s hand is lazily tracing shapes on your back, his sunglasses tilted as he watches you talk about something random with your face half-lit by orange light. “you look pretty when you’re passionate,” he mumbles, barely loud enough over the waves. he won’t stop taking secret pictures of you, either—soft candid shots he refuses to show you until later. when it gets cold, he gives you his hoodie and buries his nose in your damp hair. “you smell like the sea,” he murmurs. “i think i wanna remember this forever.”

yeonjun — chaotic fun & flirting

yeonjun’s the loudest one at the beach, dragging you into the water, fake-drowning just for attention, and challenging strangers to volleyball matches while yelling “my baby’s my lucky charm!” he keeps lifting you by the waist like it’s nothing and flinging you into the waves, only to chase you down and apologize dramatically. when you’re drying off, he insists on applying your sunscreen himself and draws little hearts on your back before rubbing them in. “you love me more after today, don’t lie,” he teases, smug even with sand in his hair. and yeah, you probably do.

beomgyu — mischief & shared headphones

you both forget to actually swim. instead, you’re walking along the shore, flipping seashells at each other, sharing an old pair of tangled earbuds. he plays the most chaotic mix of songs—sad ballads, then trot music, then suddenly screamo—and laughs whenever you grimace. beomgyu starts digging a hole “to trap a crab,” but ends up accidentally burying his own flip-flop. later, you both lie under an umbrella with watermelon slices, and he keeps feeding you until you smack his hand. “you look cute when you’re annoyed,” he grins, brushing saltwater hair from your cheek.

taehyun — peaceful & intentional

taehyun brings everything: snacks, extra towels, water shoes, and even a portable speaker for a curated beach playlist. he’s calm as ever, swimming beside you with strong strokes and never letting you drift too far. “don’t worry, i’ve got you,” he says like it’s no big deal, but it makes your heart skip. after swimming, you both sit on the rocks, letting the sun dry you as you sip from shared drinks. he’s got one hand on your thigh and the other holding yours, and the world just feels still. “we should do this more often,” he says, voice low and warm. “you look happy here.”

huening kai — soft laughter & sea glass

kai is all about the little things—finding the prettiest shell for you, laughing when you get splashed, building a sandcastle with way too much commitment. he’s got sunscreen on his nose and keeps offering you sips of his juice box like a kid. “wanna collect sea glass?” he asks, eyes hopeful. you end up with a pocket full of green and blue pieces, and he gives you the best one like it’s a diamond. when the sky goes pink, he braids your wet hair and sings quietly under his breath, sitting knee-to-knee with you on a faded towel. “this is my favorite day,” he says without hesitation.

masterlist hope you enjoyed! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms!

© fadedpiink 2025

[heavensoutofsight]

halley's comet | b.e.

SYNOPSIS: the universe works in strange ways. sometimes you feel like it listens to you, other times it feels like you're purposefully being punished by it. but sometimes--just sometimes--it feels as if everything just magically comes into place.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

TAGS/WARNINGS: no major warnings, just fluff! also this is kinda like a soulmate au? if you squint maybe? 👀

AUTHOR'S NOTE: another short one. this is from august of last year lol. largely inspired by the hte tour and era! hope you guys enjoy, as always 🫶🏽

[taglist: @hannahluvsbillie, @bilssturns, @bla1rxoxo, @billiesrighthand, @weluvwbb, @belleishot, @natbelovasblog, @wilfdflwr8, @likefirenrain, @amara-eilish, @sevikasleftbicep ]

The roar of the audience was deafening; the music so loud that you felt the reverberation in your chest.

There were several strobe lights flashing, adding to the chaotic atmosphere and making the show all the more entertaining. The venue was huge, thousands upon thousands of people of varying ages immersed into the performance just in front of them. Some people screamed every lyric, some had tear-streaked faces, and others were calmly swaying or nodding their heads to the beat, calm and put-together. You were a little bit of everything, screaming and crying depending on the song. It was impossible to not lose your mind when the Billie Eilish was in front of you, owning the stage, everyone jumping up and down to the pulsating beat. You were lucky enough to have gotten floor tickets near the extended stage, where Billie frequently walked up and down, engaging with the audience, looking as many fans in the eyes as possible. 

During the later half of the show, Billie was performing Halley’s Comet, the sweet piano ballad making everyone turn on their phone’s flashlights. People were holding loved ones as they listened intently to the soft, melodic sound of Billie’s angelic voice. Billie’s singing had everyone fully engaged, some people experiencing more emotional responses than others for the duration of the song. You, on the other hand, were experiencing a different response. 

You were mouthing the lyrics, gently swaying your body side to side, until Billie had zeroed in on you. 

You looked at the other people around you, and then back at her, to confirm that you weren’t delusional and that she was indeed staring at you. She had removed the mic from its stand, holding it firmly in her hand, her gaze trained on your face. It felt as if there was no one else in the massive venue except for you and her. You’ve made eye contact with artists before at other concerts but it was never anything like this, usually it was only a quick glance, one that was so quick that you were unsure if they had even glanced at you in the first place. But you couldn't be more certain now.

Billie sung the final lyrics of the song, still looking at you, a wide smile plastered on her face:

“I’ve been loved before but right now in this moment, I feel more and more like I was made for you.”

You returned the smile; it started off small, hesitant, but gradually grew the longer Billie looked at you. You were lost in a deep, mesmerizing pool of blue, the stage lights reflected in her eyes; it reminded you of images of the sun being reflected on the surface of water, shiny and ethereal.

But what happened next was something you truly couldn't believe.

Still holding the mic in her hand, she spoke, “Will you sing this next song with me, ___?” 

Your eyes were blown wide as your heart dropped into your stomach; excitement and anxiety making your stomach do flips. You were so caught off guard that even the people around you erupting into cheers wasn't enough to ground you. How on earth did she know your name? And why, of all people, was she inviting you on stage?

You didn't know the answer to either of those questions and frankly you didn't care. This was something no one else had the opportunity to do. You'd be absolutely foolish to decline.

You seemed to have been taking a bit too long, still in complete and utter disbelief, because Billie urged you once more. “Yes, I'm talking to you. C'mon!” She spoke playfully. The people around you were cheering you on, encouraging you.

Next thing you know, you're out of the barricade, walking up the steps to the stage, still not feeling as if anything around you was even real. When you were finally on the stage, something strange happened; the lights went out, completely shrouding the audience in darkness, but you and Billie were illuminated by spotlights. With the way everything suddenly fell quiet, you quickly realized that there was no audience. You looked out, and didn't even see a single phone flashlight. It was like everyone had disappeared the moment you walked on, even though they were just there mere moments ago.

It was certainly odd, but all you could focus on, all you could care about, was the singer standing in front of you.

You looked at Billie, who was still smiling at you. She held out her hand. You took it.

“How about an encore?” She asked. “Just for you.” 

You nodded in agreement, feeling a familiar stinging sensation in your eyes, the looming threat of tears making itself known.

And then, right then and there, Billie began singing Halley's Comet yet again, completely a-capella. You felt chills over your entire body, listening to the way her voice rang all throughout the now empty venue. It was truly angelic; her voice made you feel like you were floating, like you were resting upon clouds.

On the last line–I feel more and more like I was made for you–the dam broke, and you lowered your head to let a few tears spill.

“Thank you, Billie,” you spoke softly, voice breaking a bit with pure emotion. “I.. I feel so honored, so lucky. It doesn't feel like any of this is real–” you raised your head to look at her again, but when you did, you were met with… no one. 

She was no longer in front of you.

You looked around frantically, feeling that anxiety come back, washing over you as you took in the reality of the situation. 

“Billie?” You called out, desperately listening for an answer–but you didn't get one.

What you did get, however, was a rude awakening when your alarm clock finally went off, blaring and ear-piercingly loud. 

You were not on stage anymore but in the comfort of your own bed, rolled over onto your side, hands still clutching your phone, which is where the alarm was coming from. 

You were quick to dismiss it, returning to the peace and quiet of the morning. You looked at the time—you had only about an hour to get ready for work. You sighed. 

You sat up, unlocking your phone to just scroll for a bit, but upon doing so it immediately opened up to your music app. You saw that the last song you must've listened to before falling asleep was none other than Halley's Comet by Billie Eilish. You let out a dry chuckle.

“Why does my brain do this to me?” You said aloud to no one.

Your gaze then moved from your phone to the “Happier than Ever” poster you had on the wall above your bedside table. 

“I was happier than ever, until now.” You grumbled to yourself, reluctantly getting out of bed.

________

Your day at the music shop wasn't out of the ordinary. You had only a few customers, and everything went fairly smoothly for the most part. It was largely uneventful. 

It was always pretty slow this early in the morning, and often it was a bit torturous trying to get through the beginning of your shift because of how understimulating the environment was. But at the same time, you weren't complaining too much, as you were quite pleased about getting to relax and listen to music behind the front desk, one earbud out to hear the little bell above the entrance when someone walked in.

You decided to listen to Halley's Comet again, closing your eyes, your mind drifting back to the dream you had just a few hours ago. You couldn't help but ask yourself what it all meant. You typically didn't think too much about the meaning of your dreams, because most of the time, they were so nonsensical that you didnt even bother with trying to understand them. But this one was not like other dreams you've had.

Maybe you were just reading too much into things, but it felt like your brain was trying to tell you something. What exactly it was trying to tell you was something you'd have to wonder about some other time, because eventually you heard the sound of that little bell, indicating someone had walked into the store. You paused the song, pulled out your earbud, and put on your customer service smile–but it very quickly dropped when you realized who the customer was. 

“Good morning.” Said the living, breathing, Billie Eilish. She was dressed casually, an oversized t-shirt hanging from her frame with her usual long, denim shorts and some sneakers. Her black hair swung behind her, collected into a high ponytail. She smiled at you. 

“Morning...” you replied quietly, still in shock. Billie just chuckled at you, immediately clocking that you were a fan.

“Nice shirt,” she said in response to the top you had chosen to put on this morning—it was, of course, a shirt from her merch store. Your favorite shirt.

You giggled nervously. “Um.. Thank you. I hope you find what you need. Let me know if I can… help...” you said, feeling your heart pounding against your ribcage, the sound deafening in your ears.

"Will do." She said, oblivious to the fact that you felt like you could faint.

You didn't want to come off as a weirdo, but you just couldn't help but watch Billie as she browsed through all the vinyl albums. Sometimes, when she was really looking hard, her brows would pinch together in concentration and she'd pull her bottom lip between her teeth, reading every title and analyzing the albums closely. Sometimes, she'd catch you in the act, not pulling a face or anything but just smiling back at you, and you'd always look away bashfully, pretending you were occupied with something else.

Eventually, she had picked out three albums. 

“Did you find everything okay?” You asked, trying to speak to her like a normal customer, but the shakiness in your voice made it difficult. 

“Sure did,” She replied. “You're really cute, you know that? You don't have to be nervous, it's just me.” She spoke gently, noticing the way your hands were shaking when you rang up the albums. 

A breathy laugh escaped you. “I know, it's just… I never thought I'd meet you here of all places, at my job. I've always wanted to meet you. It's just…you mean so much to me, as an artist and you've helped me through so much… I mean, ai literally dreamt about this—God, I'm saying too much, aren't I?”

Billie was quick to shake her head, endeared by your words. “No, not at all. Give me your hand?” 

You took her hand in mere seconds. She leaned in a bit closer to you.

“Thank you so much for saying those things, it's so touching. It means the world to me to hear my fans talk about how I've been there for them—ugh, I don't even like calling y'all my fans. You guys are just… my people, I don't know.” She said with a chuckle. 

You smiled. “You're truly amazing Billie.” 

“No, you.” Billie retaliated, and you both had a fit of giggles—thankfully there was no one else in line, because surely they'd be throwing a fit.

Soon enough, Billie's albums were bagged, but right before she left, she asked you: 

“Are you coming to my encore show in a few days?” 

You nodded excitedly. “Of course. I got barricade.” 

“Sweet. So I'll definitely see you, then.” She said with a grin. 

“Maybe,” you replied shyly. You cleared your throat. “I, um… I can't wait to see you perform Halley's Comet.”

“That your favorite song?” She inquired.

“Yeah. My all-time favorite, I think.” 

Billie put a hand over her heart. “I feel like I don't hear a lot of people mention that one. Means so much to me when they do. Thank you.” She said sincerely, sporting a warm grin. “Do you… want a photo?”

“Oh my god. Yes. Please.” You replied, and Billie chuckled in amusement at your eagerness.

She leaned in close to you over the desk, wrapping an arm around you and smushing your face against hers—you always loved how she took photos with people like she's known them her whole life. You were smiling ear to ear while Billie scrunched up her face cutely.

When the photo was taken, you handed Billie her albums, feeling a pang of disappointment hit you as you realized she did in fact have to leave eventually.

“Well, I should get going, got rehearsals and stuff. The show is gonna be fucking sick. See you there.” She spoke.

The smile remained on your lips as you waved at Billie, and she waved back. She pushed open the door, and you watched as she exited.

Grabbing your phone, you stared at the photo in disbelief. You immediately made it your lock screen and home screen. Later, you were definitely going to change all of your profile pictures on various social media platforms to the picture as well. You were going to be very annoying about the fact that you met Billie—you couldn't wait to gush about it.

You didn't notice this, but as Billie walked out, she glanced over her shoulder, throwing you one last glance. She saw your bright smile as you clutched your phone like it was a sacred object. She felt herself smiling as well.

Strangely, she felt as if she had seen somewhere. She didn't bring up it up to you while she was in there, but she remembers being overcome with a strong sense of familiarity upon seeing you. You had probably been to her other concerts—maybe she had seen you at barricade for those, too. Or maybe, when she lurked on social media on occasion, she saw your face somewhere online. Hell, maybe in a dream… she just couldn't quite put her finger on it. But for some reason, she felt this strange pull toward you. A connection, of sorts. Like the universe was trying to tell her something.

As Billie walked to her car, she mentally told herself that she'd keep you in mind—and that she'd look out for you in the audience during her upcoming concert, specifically during your favorite song, Halley's Comet.