#Song of Autumn in Springtime

[adventuresofalgy]

The nights were drawing in* rapidly now in the wild west Highlands of Scotland, and Algy knew that the months of darkness had arrived. And as the days grew shorter and dimmer, the physical world began to seem stranger and increasingly less distinct; when the light was low it was really quite common to see things that might – or perhaps might not – be there…

While out and about in the gloaming at this particular time of year, Algy had often noticed that eldritch shapes and forms seemed to loom up out of the twilight, or skitter about on the periphery of his vision, and wee flickering lights could sometimes be seen in the blackness of the long, dark nights, where no light should be shining at all. And he had generally found that it was quite impossible to determine whether these phenomena were real or not… whatever that might mean…

So when Algy discovered a patch of shiny red and yellow toadstools which seemed to have popped up out of nowhere overnight, and sat down to study them more closely as the day drew to a close, he was not particularly surprised to observe certain uncanny effects…

But while a fluffy bird may safely take these experiences in his stride – or indeed, in his flight – without undue concern, his human friends who inhabit the ancient lands of darkness are perhaps better advised to follow the poet's advice at this eerie and inhospitable time of year, and stay cosily indoors with their friends, beside a good, warm fire:

Now at our casement the wind is shrilling, Poignant and keen And all the great boughs of the pines between It is harping a lone and hungering strain To the eldritch weeping of the rain; And then to the wild, wet valley flying It is seeking, sighing, Something lost in the summer olden. When night was silver and day was golden; But out on the shore the waves are moaning With ancient and never fulfilled desire, And the spirits of all the empty spaces, Of all the dark and haunted places, With the rain and the wind on their death-white faces, Come to the lure of our leaping fire. But we bar them out with this rose-red splendor From our blithe domain, And drown the whimper of wind and rain With undaunted laughter, echoing long, Cheery old tale and gay old song; Ours is the joyance of ripe fruition, Attained ambition. Ours is the treasure of tested loving, Friendship that needs no further proving; No more of springtime hopes, sweet and uncertain, Here we have largess of summer in fee­ Pile high the logs till the flame be leaping, At bay the chill of the autumn keeping, While pilgrim-wise, we may go a-reaping In the fairest meadow of memory!

[Algy is reciting the poem By an Autumn Fire by the late 19th/early 20th century Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery.]

*Note: Algy believes that this idiom may not be widely used outside Britain, and therefore refers any reader who may be puzzled to this entry in the Collins online dictionary.

[oneforthemunny]

A song that reminds you of each of your Eddie's + reader- and GO!

ooh wait this is a fun one. ok i had to think about this one but i think i've found them:

boxer!eddie and reader remind me of somethin' stupid by frank sinatra and nancy sinatra. two little black cats in love, and the chorus "and have a drink or two, and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "i love you". i can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before. and though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never seemed so right before."

rockstar!eddie and nepobaby!reader will forever remind me of faithfully by journey. i mean, "and lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be. oh, girl, you stand by me. circus life under the big-top world. we all need the clowns to make us smile. through space and time, always another show. wonderin' where I am lost without you. i'm forever yours, faithfully."

this one is going to be so fucking corny and idgaf!!! but for modern!eddie and mean girl, idk why true love by p!nk always comes to mind. "at the same time, i wanna hug you, i wanna wrap my hands around your neck. you're the only love i've ever known. but i hate you, i really hate you, so much i think it must be true love. just once try to wrap your little brain around my feelings, just once please try no to be so mean."

cowboy!eddie and sweet girl have always and will forever remind me of love is like a butterfly by the one and mother fucking only dolly parton our lord and savior. "love makes your heart feel strange inside, it flutters like soft wings in flight. love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing. i feel it when you kiss me, it happens when you're with me, that rare and gentle feelin' that i feel inside. everyday is springtime, and i am only happy when you are by my side." tbh i could quote the whole goddam song.

bouncer!eddie and bartender!reader this is another corny as fuck on so hold on, but it's you shook me all night long by acdc lmaooo. sexual chemistry through the roof, so much that it's shocking and appalling?? "she was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. she was the best damn woman that I ever seen. she's one of a kind, she's just mine, all mine." idk it's silly and slutty and fun just like them!

for janitor!eddie and teacher!reader i've always felt like forever by the beach boys is their song. super sappy and romantic and devoted and that's how they are to each other <3 "if every word i said could make you laugh, i'd talk forever. i asked the sky just what we had, it shone forever. let the love i have for you, live in your heart and be forever. forever, i've been so happy loving you."

older!eddie and reader, this one was hard bc i felt like there was so many to chose from, but ultimately i went with the one song that always takes me back to them and that's chemtrails over the country club by lana. the more i listen, the more it's their song bc "go to the market, the kids' swimming pools. me and my sister just playing it cool, under the chemtrails over the country club. meet you for coffee at the elementary schools. we laugh about nothing as the summer gets cool. it's beautiful how this deep normality settles down over me. i'm not bored or unhappy, i'm still so strange and wild. washing my hair, doing the laundry. late-night tv, i want you only. it's never too late, baby, so don't give up."domestic and sweet.

this is also so silly and sweet and the best thing ever but for hockey!eddie and reader i fucking love the song hello, hello by elton john (yes from gnomeo and juliet lmaoooo). "never gonna find anything to change my mind, famous last lines of a fool. hello, hello. my, my, my, what have we here? sniffing all the flowers, running through an autumn shower, compare it to someone else like me." so fucking silly and so romantic like it's them. happy and silly and in love.

and i know you guys are making fun of me and i don't give one fuck bc i know you're about to do it again with this one bc it's coming completely out of left fucking field for these two!! for mafia!eddie and reader... babe i'm saying it, it's i see the light from tangled yes it fucking is. "all that time never even knowing, just how blind i've been. now i'm here, blinking in the starlight. and it's warm and real and bright, and the world has somehow shifted. all at once everything looks different, now that i see you. all those years living in a blur. if she's here, it's crystal clear, i'm where i'm meant to go." and listen, i could write a goddam essay on how this is them, both of them. living their lives before, thinking they're content, until they met the other and now they're confused how they were ever without the other. real ride or die shit.

for dom!eddie and sub!reader, i always think of i don't want to miss a thing by aerosmith lol. really bc they're a little chaotic but they really do love each other sm. true soulmate shit. "i could spend my life in this sweet surrender, where a moment with you is a moment i treasure. i don't wanna miss one smile, i don't wanna miss one kiss. i just wanna be with you, right her with you, just like this. and i just wanna hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine, and just stay here in this moment for all the rest of time." overly passionate and lovey and dramatic which is just their style.

[womblegrinch]

George Henry (1858-1943) - On the Banks of Allan Water : Winter

Oil on canvas. Painted in 1888.

43.75 x 87 inches, 111 x 221 cm. Estimate: £15,000-25,000.

Sold Lyon & Turnbull, Edinburgh, 26 Sept 2024.

Third part of a triptych to illustrate On the Banks of Allan Water, a popular song, the three works were installed in a mansion house and have not been seen in public before.

The triptych was sold privately prior to the sale for £237,650 incl B.P.

On the Banks of Allan Water When the sweet springtime did fall Was the miller’s lovely daughter, Fairest of them all, For his bride a soldier sought her, And a winning tongue had he! On the Banks of Allan Water, None so gay as she.

On the Banks of Allan Water, When brown Autumn spreads its store There I saw the Miller’s daughter, But she smiled no more. For the summer grief had brought her And her soldier, false was he; On the Banks of Allan Water, None so sad as she.

On the Banks of Allan Water, When the winter snow fell fast, There I saw the Miller’s daughter; Chilling blew the blast, But the miller’s lovely daughter, Both from care and cold was free; On the Banks of Allan Water, There a corpse lay she.

I've posted the other two paintings that were also in the sale.

[dontforgetukraine]

Thoughts away, you heavy clouds of autumn! For now springtime comes, agleam with gold! Shall thus in grief and wailing for ill-fortune All the tale of my young years be told?   No, I want to smile through tears and weeping., Sing my songs where evil holds its sway, Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping, I want to live! You thoughts of grief, away!   On poor sad fallow land unused to tilling I'll sow blossoms, brilliant in hue, I'll sow blossoms where the frost lies, chilling, I'll pour bitter tears on them as due.   And those burning tears shall melt, dissolving All that mighty crust of ice away. Maybe blossoms will come up, unfolding Singing springtime too for me, some day.   Up the flinty steep and craggy mountain A weighty ponderous boulder I shall raise, And bearing this dread burden, a resounding Song I'll sing, a song of joyous praise.   In the long dark ever-viewless night-time Not one instant shall I close my eyes, I'll seek ever for the star to guide me, She that reigns bright mistress of dark skies.   Yes, I'll smile, indeed, through tears and weeping Sing my songs where evil holds its sway, Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping, I shall live! You thoughts of grief, away!

—“Contra Spem Spero” by Lesya Ukrainka

[incorrectskzquotes]

General Music Asks:

A song you like with a colour in the title

A song you like with a number in the title

A song that reminds you of summertime

A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about

A song that needs to be played LOUD

A song that makes you wanna dance

A song to drive to

A song about drugs or alcohol

A song that makes you happy

A song that makes you sad

A song you never get tired of

A song from your preteen years

One of your favourite 80’s songs

A song that reminds you of autumn/fall

A song that is a cover by another artist

One of your favourite songs right now

A song that you would sing a duet with at karaoke

A song from the year you were born

A song that makes you think about life

A song that has many meanings to you

A favourite song with a persons name in the title

A song that moves you forward

A song that you think everyone should listen to

A song by a band you wish were still together

A song that reminds you of springtime

A song that reminds you of wintertime

A song that breaks your heart

A song by an artist with a voice you love

A song that you remember from your childhood

A song that reminds you of yourself

A song that is bittersweet

A song that no one thinks you would like but you do

Wildcard! A song recommendation!

[parchmentk]

My attempt at Cici

Shoutout to a Discord user who showed this pic which is probably our only reference of Cici

So anyway, I styled her

Items used

Hair - Daydream Sails (SR) [dye: solid purple] Hair Ornament - Fluttering Fantasy (SR) Earrings - Golden Butterflies (SR) Dress - Doggy Party (SR) Hosiery - Cloudy Dreams (SR) Shoes - Crafty Girl (SR)

Eyebrows - Smitten Daydreams (SSR) Contact Lens - Crimson Maple (SSR) Lipstick - Ukiyoe - Illusion (SR) Nail Set - Autumn Breeze Songs (SR)

First pose - Spring Ripples, BG Empty Dance Floor Second pose - Charming and Cool, Springtime Encounter, BG Third pose - Genki Outing, BG Sunbathing Heaven

Hope she gets a sprite because this is getting ridiculous, Paper Games, she's designed so many items we can use in game

[same-skies]

Dance of the seasons

Spring arrives with gentle grace,

Awakening life in every place.

Buds and blossoms, fresh and new,

A canvas painted in a vibrant hue.

Birds return with songs so sweet,

Nature's symphony, a rhythmic beat.

The world renews, a hopeful start,

Springtime whispers to the heart.

Summer follows with blazing sun,

Days of laughter, endless fun.

Fields of green and skies of blue,

A perfect warmth in every view.

Children play in golden light,

Stars adorn the quiet night.

The earth is rich, the harvest near,

Summer's bounty, full and clear.

Autumn steps in with regal air,

Leaves of amber, gold, and rare.

A tapestry of colours bright,

A fleeting beauty, pure delight.

The air grows crisp, the days grow short,

Nature's final, grand report.

Harvest moons and fireside tales,

Autumn's magic never fails.

Winter's breath is cold and still,

A quiet hush upon the hill.

Snowflakes dance in moonlit skies,

A world transformed before our eyes.

Frosty mornings, evenings long,

A time for rest, a time for song.

By the hearth, we find our peace,

Winter's calm, a sweet release.

Each season turns, a wheel of time,

A cycle endless, so sublime.

Spring to summer, fall to snow,

A dance of life, a constant flow.

Embrace the change, for it is true,

Each season brings a gift to you.

In every leaf, in every breeze,

The eternal cycle, nature's ease.

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 31: Sally's Song

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: What’s so wrong with Kakuzu playing around? It’s not like her affection will last. Nothing ever does.

Author's Note: I have a very strong attachment to this song. I try not to be *super* 1-1 with my personal experiences to what the reader analog "Takara" is supposed to be, but this one can't be helped. I love this song, it's the first song outside of church that I memorized, first song I sang for the purpose of wanting it to sound good. If Sally's Song has no fans, that means I am dead.

I really, really admire the Fiona Apple cover of this song especially, but for whatever reason it was removed from Spotify, apparently a couple of years ago. The rendition added to the fic playlist will be a music box instrumental by Music Box Rockstar. (Forgive me if I change my mind later).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And does he notice my feelings for him?

And will he see how much he means to me?

I think it's not to be

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Dappling light is a lot more awe-striking when you’re relearning how to see the world, the way it blots over each thing like flecks on a watercolor painting and makes you reevaluate its shape. The sun isn’t visible right now where the performer is, instead diffusing its rays through the fading foliage in this magical way. It’s fascinating, really, how in autumn so many plants seem to give one last hurrah by bleeding out all their bright colors before it’s time to die. There’s a similar reason why the performer is now stuck with her once favorite dress and sweater.

She wears both now, of course, as there is nothing else in her wardrobe. In the springtime with Hidan and Kakuzu’s initial company, it was quite fitting! White with pink and blue detailings, sort of like flowers fresh from the melting snow. Summer managed to fit still, sweater removable and sunhat appropriate. But now in fall, the warming hues of crimson, orange, gold, and brown make her miss a scarf she used to have with matching colors. The fiery rainbow refracts in her eyes until a cool-toned finger gently brushes up and down her arm. Kisame always oozes with a strange, contagious sort of vibrancy even though he doesn’t bounce off the walls like Tobi nor raise his voice like Hidan. It’s subtle, and though his color is blue, it’s an attitude that suits red maple leaves and yellowing morning glory vines that climb up old, moss-sodden lattice.

“Told you it’d be nice to get out of the place,�� he asserts, having figuratively dragged her from bed for this. And she beams up at him, as though the woman is bone-tired, he is still right.

“Hey!" 

…Someone shouts to get their attention. A head of spiked hair perks up with double the attentiveness for his ward who can hardly blink, shifting his shoulders to turn them both around. Once it's had, Hidan purses his lips and gives the fish a judging look; he lets it sink in before putting in his two cents. "You shouldn't be carrying her everywhere.”

The privacy is quickly shattered, the interrupting voice reminding the performer of how, exactly, she even managed to go outside: that Kisame only got her here by picking her up and taking the lady himself. He’s so strong that it became second nature for a few minutes, and the silly thing entirely forgot that she is a grown-ass woman that can suddenly be held like a toddler. Mute, she instantly shrinks closer to his cloak— which he now dons over his indigo tank top with the chiller weather— a redness on her cheeks. The taller man blinks with a frown at his sudden opponent with gray hair and righteous attitude. "It's better than her staying in one spot for too long, isn’t it?”

Hidan effectively scrunches one half of his face, corner of his mouth pulling up and the right eye squinting. He’s seen her move on her own; why not just let her? It doesn’t make sense! Will she forget how?! “Then have her walk!”

A whimper is all she’s got, hiding more into the dark cloth at the shark’s neck. Kisame defends, a snarl curling his upper lip: "She's enjoying it."

The shirtless grim reaper stares long and hard to verify this to no avail, rolling his eyes back up to the fellow Akatsuki. "She looks unhappy, asshole."

"Yeah, now that you're scolding her,” the swordsman parries, holding her just a little bit closer as if the arm of his cloak can shield the poor woman from misunderstanding cruelty. “Can you either get with the program or shut up?"

"What?!” Hidan, of course takes offense, redirecting his attention to the one he’s actually worried for. “Girlie, hey! Look over here!" To Kisame’s dismay, ever so slowly…she abides, and he notes the anxiety in her eyes. "You enjoying that?" A flush in her cheeks...but she nods. There is no way to deny that this is oh so very wonderful. The priest blinks twice in disbelief. “W—... really?”  

Hidan’s double down is about to knock her off her feet (metaphorically, too): 

"Then— then let me carry you, too!"

Kisame’s response is immediate: "...What the hell?" he blinks back with his own shock. His shaming doesn’t work on a man who has no shame to speak of.

"If you get to, so do I,” Hidan argues, folding his arms matter-of-fact. “Simple as that!"

...By technicality, that is true. The kiri-nin looks to her attached to his side for approval or lack thereof once more. "You don't have to say yes...” he reminds under his breath.

But the consideration is heavy, her soft eyes glancing over to the silver-haired man standing on this path outside their house. Is Hidan only asking because he's jealous? Does he even want to? They haven't really talked since they…you know. But the firmness there... Regardless of motive, it does seem to be a sincere want. But she has her own, in spite of how she misses him: "I don't...want to be a bother..."

To that he frowns, and his hands lower onto his waist in a sure, somewhat annoyed stance. "Yer not." His half-lidded stare alone dares anyone to ask why he wants this, including her.

Unable to formulate an acceptance as an apology...she just nods up to the shark to abide by the other man’s wishes. Kisame reluctantly, awkwardly passes her to him, muttering something about not fucking dropping her, and she’s unsure what to do with her own arms in this exchange—

"Come ‘ere."

So Hidan does the actions for her, careful fingers with a ring like dusty dry blood adjusting her hands to loop around his neck and the back of her knees to go over his cloaked arm. The way he looks at her...hooded eyes so close to her own... Geez, it's a bit more believable Kisame is so strong, being so very tall and less human looking. Hidan is just... a guy. But she gives him no problem whatsoever...!

She remembers abruptly how heavy his scythe was. Oh.

…

...

"Okay..." Hidan asks the swordsman after glancing her up and down, "Now what?"

It's Kisame's turn to raise an eyebrow this time. "...What do you mean,” he asks flatly.

"The fuck do you do next?"

Kisame squints so much harder that his actual eyes aren't visible, merely small black gills over a widening grimace. He is starting to regret this pass-off. "You...hold her...?"

"I'll do it, un."

Before Hidan can argue his place, a blonde takes her into his own sure, smooth grasp. Oh dear. He's even smaller than Hidan but picks her up like she's lighter than a kitten...! It shuts her up into pure, unadulterated silence with a stare as big as two dinner plates. "Hey, darling." The artist blinks, smiling still but brow curling, shy girl saying nothing to help alleviate tension. "...What are we carrying you for...?" Deidara inquires.

"That’s what I was asking! Now let her down, okay?"

"Why?” Deidara scoffs at Hidan, backing half a step away as the latter ninja approaches to grab her back. “You were the one holding her, un."

"You didn't ask!"

"...Did I need to?"

"Yes," both fish and Jashinist confirm in aggravated unison.

Ohhh my gosh. Her face hurts from blushing so much, eyes from being so wide. Kisame takes it as his cue and he tentatively steps up, reaching out to take her back from this problem he incidentally started. "Let me...just—...” he stammers, ready to rescue from a social faux pas. “Come here, Takara-hime—"

"Swoop!"

With a flash of black and orange, an unexpected fourth man slips between them and flees, pastel-dressed prize in his arms. He trots away with the speed of a child stealing from a candy store, reaction stagnated by shock just until his long, trailing scarf is out of sight:

“TOBI!”

“TOBI?!”

“TOBI, YOU GODDAMN COCKSUCKER!!!”

The chase begins, a whine at the back of the kidnappee’s throat that wavers with each bounce of his feet. “Heehee!” he laughs, “Takara-chan is mine, mine mine mine!” the jester teases, shit-eating grin surely behind the spiral he wears as he revels in the tight grip lovely fingers make into his clothes. The swift shinobi weaves around one corner of the house, speeding through a pile of leaves which scatter about like Tobi had stepped on coals of a fire, flying sparks and embers that crunch instead of crackle. “If—” he huffs an exaggerated breath, “—They can’t decide who has you—” Breath. Another corner of the house is rounded. “—Then—” Breath. He stomps through a couple-days-old puddle, water droplets splashing cold against her legs. “It’s gonna— be me!”

The thief twists around one more side of the ancient home lined in dead vines like a gold trim only to be caught by surprise. Abrutptly, he stops to a halt, seeing something before his dear Takara-chan can register the new danger.

“Oh?” One...Two...Three. Surrounded!

Kisame is grinning to the left, Hidan is frowning to the right, and a fuming Deidara is directly behind, sliding open the back door with Tobi’s name cursing from the back of the tongue within his head. She’s not even the one running and this is all making the traveler lose her breath. How the hell did they move so fast...?! It’s only been all of, what, ten fucking seconds?!

"Oh— guess you got me!” He's playing, the fellow performer can still tell. Something's up his sleeve. Okay...so what does that mean—? “Catch!"

It means she's not ready for what's next, not all.

“AAAAAAH-!”

The woman screams as she’s tossed unceremoniously up to the clouds, feeling the force of gravity first in the way that her body attempts to break it, climbing up and up and up with the power of his throw. A couple of times on roller coasters have prepared her instincts well: her stomach sinks in anticipation for the rest of her, just as the acceleration slows and the drop is about to begin.

“AAA—” … And she waits for a fall that does not come. “...Oh…?” The first thing in her vision is the bright blue sky in contrast to the vast forest. Wow...what a view. It’s open like she’s high above—

—Oh. Oh Jesus. Is she really two stories up in the air? TOBI?!

A heavy, heavy sigh is heard from an open window nearby, practically behind her ear. It wakes her up to look down, first at the guys staring up at her from the ground, then a bit closer to her own self. Black threads wrap around her body, around from her back and then loop over and over around her legs; it feels as secure as, well, if you somehow warped metal straight out of the flame to a custom fit just for you. The sight of herself is enough to swallow further shrieks, much to the relief of he who has rescued her from such reckless affairs.

Kakuzu leans down, open fist outside the threshold of the window pane with threads weaving out of rips in his skin that keep her in place. Menacingly, his glower rolls down to the ants below. "You...stupid motherfuckers."

"IT WAS TOBI, JACKASS!" Hidan quickly accuses, pointing to the culprit. A growl and a death glare is all it takes for the masked man to whine like a scared puppy. That’s good enough to appease Kakuzu. For now.

Ironically enough, it's his turn in this ridiculous game: "Come on, then..."

The three watch as the woman flies back into the house, a small eek on the back of her tongue and window promptly shut behind her with a slam. A moment of silence, all four men staring up to where she was spirited away.

…

…

“He’s going to kill you, you know,” Hidan states without any urgency, glancing over to the orange spiral. “He’s kind of famous for that.” And though Tobi fakes shaking in his boots very, very convincingly, everyone else still thinks he’d deserve it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

What will become of my dear friend?

Where will his actions lead us then?

Although I'd like to join the crowd

In their enthusiastic cloud

Try as I may, it doesn't last

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

What a mess, Kakuzu thinks. He exhales, fully undressed besides a pair of pants, no face covering nor shirt to cover his unnerving stitches. Thanks, Tobi. A small “oof” is muttered as the woman is set down on his bed without a second glance, man himself turning around to retain what little respect he has left. It's an opportunity for the performer to briefly gain her bearings. Kakuzu’s room, she vaguely recalls. Really has been inside it only once— no, not even inside . She’s only seen into it less than a handful of times. Frankly, it’s pretty...ordinary. It’s clean. It at first seems to lack hobbies. No piles of clay, no sword to polish (re-wrap??? Samehada is a stick of bandages, after all), no circle to pray in. But it becomes apparent that what he has instead of things to humor him is...finances. Receipts and bills are nicely organized or are in a pile waiting to be, a bingo book of wanted criminals open that perhaps may promise enough funds to keep this makeshift horrid fucking family alive another day. A couple of briefcases are neatly lined next to his desk, metal and heavy looking as if to transport valuables.

Her head shifts side to side. Grumbling, taking no heed, the treasurer has walked over to his closet in search of attire to make him better suited to be around a lady. He forgets so easily that the strangest thing about him isn't just the stitches but what they lead to on his backside…

"What...?"

Thinking this is about the metal threads, he looks over his shoulder as she finally looks to him and speaks. “They—” he begins. But, oh. Oh, no, it isn’t those her eyes are locked on; the threads have slunk back into his hollowed body already. What he sees, instead, is her pointing squarely at the masks. There's four of them, different animals and colors.

"Are those...attached to you?"

Ah. Right. Damn . He exhales yet again, not moving so she gets a good long look, ogles to her heart's content at the freak he is, get it out of the way. Guess it was inevitable she find out. "Yes." Then he reaches forward, a tank top chosen off the shelf with an open back for these creatures. It’s more comfortable, for one, and for another makes it easier to fight if they don’t have to pop through and ruin a perfectly good shirt. Never can be too prepared. Not too fast as to not scare, he turns his front back around despite his bare chest facing her. She looks so small, somehow, head hunched down and eyes angled up as she sits upon the edge of his own bed. How do they always get off the wrong foot when they don't even try?

"I'm sorry." Because of course she is. There’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

One thing is sure: "Don't be."

A thread drifts away from his bicep like an autonomous, thin tentacle, locking the door just in time to hear the nob shift futility and Hidan knock ever so impatiently to be let in. His head turns sharply, a snarl on his face. She notes how the way his eyes scrunch up is such a common expression above his usual mask; does he always frown like that when they do? "Give the girl ten damn minutes without your nonsense!"

Vague but clearly angry response muddles through the closed door, but Kakuzu's expression stays and so does his order. A moment of silence and gradually the arguing fades, something about promising to be back later. The hunter’s tense brow relaxes and so do the corners of his lips, and red and green eyes stop bulging. In. Out. He catches his breath and turns boiling rage to a simmer. For her sake. Calm down, for her sake.

The stitches on his face move with his cheeks, she can tell from where she grips the edge of the bed; they are, most certainly, not just burns or scars or face paint. His eyes catch hers, a challenge in them that regains a sliver of the anger he managed to beat back, daring her to call him a monster. Unnatural. Hideous. It’s all true, just get it over with. A flash of something else was before that, though, on his face. It's an emotion that feels familiar in her own chest.

Despite his expectations, she reaches out to him, slowly raising her wrist with a begging, upward-facing palm. He doesn't flinch, eyes starting at the woman’s fingertips, trailing up her arm and to her face.

"...What?"

How can she say it? Both palms, now, come back, gesturing together for him to come here. Out of pure confusion and desire to know what the hell she means, Kakuzu simply obeys.

Shaky hands go to the brown arm as he grunts with the unexpected contact, even as her touch is more gentle than he could have imagined. Maybe even especially so. As she sits on his bed, one hand goes under his palm to steady it in place while the other wanders up to explore, both visually and tactilly...

The bounty hunter…has two tattooed bands on his forearm. At first she assumed that's where they come from, but no, the actual stitches are higher up, unmistakable as the source of his eldritch-seeming threads. She traces up to the shoulder, then under his chin. There's even more of these lines on his torso, seen far, far too easily as he hasn’t yet slipped on his top in this unexpected intermission, and she can tell they all lead like train tracks to the masks embedded into his latissimus dorsi. Her eyes consume him, taste him, know him. She's far from the first to witness him like this, in battle or otherwise, and so he ignores the sense of novelty that washes over him and behaves with expectations that are tried and true. Something Kakuzu and his musician have in common is how they’ll insult themselves with the truth before you can turn it against them first.

"...I know. I know what I look like." But she acts like she hasn't . She's seen him before, though, the times she barged in at the peak of midnight...why is it different now?

Sometimes trauma heightens the senses, lets you take in things better than before. The quivering touch of the performer moves to reach further upon his skin, still. In awe, fingertips barely brush against his chest and most unbelievably, he doesn't stop her.

Tears well up on her eyes, which to his surprise turn up to his own instead of staying locked lower down on his ugly, deformed self.

"Does it hurt?"

...That’s not something he's been asked before. IF it hurt, yes, when “it” happened decades ago. If it does when hearts pump out of his back to attack and spew the elements at his enemies. Yes and yes, answers to both as well as if others have been so brave as to inquire directly to the bastard himself. But does he hurt now , merely existing with this curse? It's been so long with the aches stitched into him that he's forgotten, so he searches the numbness under his skin for what the answer may be.

"...Yes," he discovers, despite how it might make her cry. He knows she likes the truth. "...But it's better than before,” Kakuzu softens. In several ways. Better off with than without them. Better off than being fully human. Better off than being dead.

He sits down next to her and unbelievably, after rubbing the saltwater from her face, this woman shifts. Yes, yes, he is not mistaken; this woman now crawls onto his lap.

And he lets her. 

All hearts pounding in discordant, unmatched pulses, he lets her. Legs wrap around his side, thighs seated atop his own. She trusts him. Even after everything, even seeing him like this...—? Oh so delicately, with a hesitance that draws her away before curiosity pulls her back in, this soothing lady traces the metal woven into him. The way he is… It reminds her of something. Something distinct. A visceral sort of memory, one from long, long ago…

…Kakuzu notices before she does that his performer is humming.

It's a tune both sweet and melancholy, befitting a creature like her and somehow, too, the way she approaches a beast like him. His gaze softens, lips no longer a stern, stretched line, and he drinks her wonder in. Kakuzu missed the songs that used to always tinge her voice, and this is the first it’s come back since she has come back home to him, even if so, very small.

“...Oh…!” The woman pulls back, somehow both after too long and far too soon, and she...smiles up at him. This…who he is…makes her happy? “...You remind me of...a rag doll.”

…

Dark brown hair drifts past his face as he savors that nickname, elaborates to himself on the implications. He’s been called it before, yeah...usually just before deciding to detach the person by their arteries. How can it seem so... kind from those lips? So adoring…? She has an answer, and it’s silly just like her.

“When I was little…” the performer tries to explain with stilted words, as plainly as she can so as to not confuse, “...I loved a story. It had a rag doll...who...stuffed herself with leaves.”

The Frankenstein's Monster stays silent, does so regardless of if there’s more for her to add. The slightest, softest inhale and the humming begins again...this time closer to the singing the Akatsuki miss, just without words. Down, up, and up...down… Down, up, and up...down… Lovely indeed, whatever it is, even if simple and bouncy. It was, after all, one of the first melodies she memorized on her own volition. Idly, she traces him again, finding a spot just at his collarbone and right at her line of sight. The threads are stiffer than they look, less like woven fabric and more like surgical staples. How do they move with such lithe grace, so little effort?

As she ponderers this question, one of his own springs off Kakuzu's tongue like a diving board.

“...You never sang when you were alive?” To his relief, the humming doesn’t stop; it’s such a piece of her, this melody that she can do it without thinking. A free hand wipes her eye again, and despite the nature of everything, her tiny smile does not waver nor flinch away as she answers.

“...I wanted to,” she murmurs after a moment, voice light and wispy much the same way as she seems next to someone rough like himself. “I wanted to be a singer...a musician…” A guitarist, a keyboard player, a...star. A performer. “I...learned...to stop doing it...just because I felt I had to, and started doing it...for fun by myself.”

Eyes close, and she tries to identify these marks on him with touch alone, tries to narrow down exactly what he feels like skin on skin. Kakuzu wonders if she can feel how his pulse is stronger than one any normal person should have.

“You could have been.” And she is now, he reminds himself. Or at least she will be once this nonsense is said and done and she can get back to a nondescript civilian life. But...she shakes her head.

“Too scared,” the woman says, “Too shy.”

“How do you know that? Did you try?” Perhaps foolish to challenge; the thing she is surest in besides the persistent strength of humanity is the failures of her own making.

“I had the chance...I was offered...to be in a play…” The smile widens, showing teeth and hiding a grimace. “...I was too little and too scared. And I never…”

…

She doesn’t continue that thought.

“Why didn't you try again? You were just a child, right? Children are allowed to be wrong.” But as soon as he says it, he knows this isn’t true. He knows from experience. So does she. A long, painful silence...and then her eyes open. The humming continues, sweet and sad. She reaches up into his hair, delicately, to see if it feels as smooth as it looks.

"She falls in love with someone...who can't see his demise coming,” the woman explains of the rag doll with leaves. His brown hair is silky and soft. “She tries to help. In the end...it gets her in trouble. He realizes she's in danger and saves her." Kakuzu raises a brow, stitches at his mouth exaggerating a purse of his lips.

"What monster pairs with a living rag doll?" And to his surprise, she beams once more:

"A skeleton!"

...Oh. He grunts, his way of chuckling without being so vulnerable as to give off actual mirth, eyes hooding and smirk forming. "I know what you're going to say, Takara...that that’s like us."

The combing stops, big eyes blinking their befuddlement as the curled fingers pull away. "Excuse me?"

...Oh, dammit. She has never even seen Hidan's ritual form, and so Kakuzu feels his face flush at making the connection himself. Goddammit… As if Hidan could ever save him. It's always the other way around...

"Am...am I...a...a skeleton?" she stutters, not getting it.

"No,” he cuts in sharply. Too sharp, in fact— “I mean— ...never mind."

…

…

The now free hands of the woman fidget index fingers, pressing tip against tip. "There's another character...that's filled with bugs," she adds, as if this is helpful in any way whatsoever.

"…" Kakuzu answers, gaze narrowed and mouth in a straight line.

"I like bugs."

And so he exhales yet-fucking-again. "Takara, you're very fortunate I happen to be tolerant of the dumb shit you say." Hidan owes him for that, too, really.

"Oh." The woman on his lap doesn't need to say: she's sorry. She gets shy and withdrawn and her hands drift even further away. Exasperated, Kakuzu takes them into his own grasp.

"...But it's better than you never talking again."

He can't touch her with his own hands; surely he's too rough, both literally and figuratively. The threads come instead, strange and cold and inhuman. It only makes her remember what it was like to hold him by the fingers, though, as she did once when Kakuzu taught her how to read the stars.

"...Can I ask you something rude?"

What a weird thing to ask. He shrugs, just barely so not to shake her too much up and down as she sits on him. Is this fine? Is she safe so close to him? Is it proper for a man to let her do it? And yet he can’t bring himself to pull them apart. "Alright."

"Why is your skin... so...?"

It isn’t a sigh this time as he releases air from heavy lungs, but a chuckle. You can tell it comes from deep in his chest, even if quiet. "It'd be rude if you ignored it. That's just how I am now."

She blinks again, lashes fluttering. "You weren't... always...?"

"No. I was someone else a long time ago."

"Like me?"

…

He thinks about this, long and hard. This girl does, after all, remind him of who he used to be. So what does that mean of her before? He recalls her mentions of a life before a death, an existence riddled with agony, debt, and servitude. A broken loyalty to a system that felt nothing for her, and waking up to abandon it by any means necessary. …So, perhaps, they have switched lives. Silly boy to serious man. Serious woman to silly girl. Funny how life works out. They both had a death of sorts in between to make it happen, and here they are.

"Sure. Like you, I guess."

"Thank you," she responds inexplicably, despite the implications he sees, an emotion so bright dripping from her mouth like honey from a hive. There isn’t even a blush on her face; with the next action, it’s all whimsy and instinct and no thought whatsoever. It has to be, to be so silly.

The woman leans up and presses a kiss on his forehead, for once bare of the headband marked with his betrayal. A sensation tingles down his own cheeks, down his neck, into the depths of five dark hearts. Despite it all...he feels joy. It makes him tense up. Alas, this is so easy to pick up on with how close they are, and she jerks back immediately, crawling off his lap just as quickly as she got on. Now her face is red.

"Sorry…! I—... Sorry."

Sorry... That’s the right word for giving a guy like him the time of day, the warmth from a sixth blood-pumping organ somehow tied inseparably to his quintet. "It's fine,” he responds in calculation, choosing not to tell her how much he enjoyed it. “Just...be careful who you do that to. Alright?"

Instead of asking why, she simply says, unable to look him in the face: "I'm bad…" And calmly— oh so calmly compared to a moment ago— he retorts, his own voice murmured and already longing for her song.

"I didn't say that."

...

"I meant it,” the taki-nin elaborates, both as a comfort and an admonition. “We're all like this, Takara. ...If not outside like me then on the inside. Keep your wits about you. Save your affection for those who are deserving. It isn’t you that’s wrong, here. If someone has to be called 'bad'…" Childish worldview as it is, to be so black and white, the answer is undeniable. “...It’s us. They threw you, for god’s sake.”

"But...I...—"

"And if you can't," he adds selfishly, and the next is a whisper. "At least be tactful about it." The scariest part about what happens next is that he does, indeed, mull it over before it’s done. The outcomes are considered, the details poured over, and the fool still does exactly as he's warned her of.

A press of his world-weary lips comes from out of nowhere yet arrives so, so gently, just as soon pulling back before she can even tell what's happened. And though he isn’t brimming with sunshine like Takara can, this old man still can’t hide he’s making a silly, silly choice. "...Duckling."

And that’s it. There’s the slightest smirk on his face as he slinks backwards off the bed, visible until Kakuzu turns around and throws the signature cloak of his ilk over leathery-textured shoulders. The traveler gapes, what she thought as her mistake now his confirmation—

“Oi!” another guilty pleasure beckons impatiently behind Kakuzu’s locks. The bounty hunter huffs, allowing the woman one last opportunity to see a widening grin before the mask slips back on.

“Perfect timing.”

Before she knows it, another, paler set of arms come around the performer, Hidan complaining with his chin upon her head of her terrible, unforgivable absence for all of ten minutes. It really is over so very, very quickly. It has to be, lest the choices grow poorer and poorer between a half-naked man and a lady not even back to herself.

But he hums the lonely rag doll’s song back to himself all the same in private the rest of this day, up through dinner, in the bath, hell— maybe even in his sleep. It somehow sounds just fine on his old, gravely tongue as a mind re-walks the life it’s led just to work up to something as stupid and risky as this. Dead leaves fall down past the window where the zombie scooped her into his waiting lap, and he wonders what it would be like to stuff them underneath his patchwork skin.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And will we ever end up together?

No, I think not, it's never to become

For I am not the one

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[lilcupio]

AroAce Playlist of songs in Spanish

Clarification: I know that these songs were not created to be aroace, but this is MY OWN PERSONAL INTERPRETATION, MINE, FROM ME AND ONLY ME.

And yes, I am a hopeless romantic (and cupioromantic), so my AroAce experience is somewhat pessimistic??? ig

Let's go with the playlist:

The arromantic song par excellence. Simple and direct.

1.- Abducida por formar una pareja | TRONCO.

"When I think of the way you talk

Of Menorca, of the weather and of your cat,

I imagine I make you a proposal

And I ask you if you'd like to be my boyfriend.

But no, because I don't want boyfriends

Or girlfriends or anything else susceptible.

To be lied to, to be convinced.

To be abducted to form a couple"

2.- Enamorado tuyo | El Cuarteto de Nos.

Ah~ the endless debate about what the true meaning of this song is. Some say it's a love song, others say it's about denial. The good thing about ambiguous meaning is that you can play with the words as you wish, and for me, this song is lit me.

"If you think that I feel love

Please don't make regret

Don't comment with your people

About our affair.

Hardly anyone ever says

That I'm in love with you"

3.- Desechable | Mon Laferte.

The lyrics of this song reflect an internal struggle. When I first discovered my arromanticism, it was hard for me to accept it. I wanted so badly to experience falling in love and being loved differently, I wanted to be and have that special person in my life. If I can't be special to someone else, then I will always be one of the crowd.

"I'm just one more, just a maybe

Something disposable, expendable.

I'm just another number, just another piece.

I am irremediable, invisible.

Behind my shield there is skin.

Behind the bitter there is honey.

You will see that there is light behind the black shadow"

4.- Primavera | El Cuarteto de Nos.

An Aro Allosexual song, LET'S GOOOOO

The story is simple, a man thinks he's in love, but realizes he's just horny. I especially love the spring metaphor; I like how it tries to hide the horniness under a layer of romanticism and fake poetry.

"It's summer and I'm hot, but I thought it was

Because of my sudden outbreak of love, in the middle of spring.

Your laughter, in my distraction, made me think it was spring.

Your laughter, in my distraction, made me think it was spring.

It's autumn but deep inside, I still think it was

For the fact that I'm horny, full springtime.

Your laughter, in my distraction, make me think it's spring.

Your laughter, in my distraction, made me think it was spring"

5.- Bailando solo | Los Bunkers.

Yep, a song that talks about loneliness, I have nothing more to say.

"Dancing alone in the dark

You'll get used to it

To watching all of life go by.

Like a promise at dusk,

You can dissolve

On the edge of a crystal glass.

Now that you're here

And the future hides from you

You've already scratched the floor

And the walls of your room"

6.- Paramar | Los Prisioneros.

The lyrics suggest that to love requires a series of sacrifices that distort the essence of the person. There is nothing more arromantic than feeling uncomfortable in a relationship, that you are not really being yourself, you are only forcing to act as society says you should.

"Love, love, where did I hear that word before?

I redid my schedule for you

And buy more calendars.

Passed me a 3 dimensional video,

With a happy ending.

I tried to inject myself with my old optimism,

But that one that turned out

Was still me, ready to love.

I never thought that just this winter, Would be the coldest I've ever seen.

I'm no good for love"

7.- Sexo | Los Prisioneros.

This song is a critique of the hypersexualization of society and the use of sex to get the attention of the masses. It also talks about the pressure to be sexually active and how sex is needed in order to be an “adult”. Pretty ace to me.

"There's nothing to blush about,

It's everywhere, you see.

Now virginity

Is a medieval thing.

It's your maturity card,

Your passport to adulthood.

She is not a woman to love

But an enemy to be subdued"

8.- Estar solo | Los Prisioneros.

Can you tell I love Los Prisioneros? They are one of the most important Latin rock bands for a reason.

I remember being 17 years old, going to school and seeing my friends with their boyfriends, coming home and watching my parents kissing, turning on the TV and find a romantic movie. In those days, when I was not in my best mood, all I could do was lock myself in my room and listen to this song with swollen eyes. This song represents the ultimate expression of my internalized aphobia. Although I have now accepted my identity and sexuality, this remains one of the songs I have identified with the most in my life.

"Something that is always there.

Something that is neither lie nor truth.

Bad habits, bad destiny.

A single path

That I can never deny.

There's something wrong inside of me

A kind of program with an error,

A tendency, a demand.

Many differences

That I can never deny.

To be alone.

To be alone.

The months go by, the years come together

And everything doesn't matter.

The fantasies, the movie scenes,

Have a bad ending.

I'm fine I feel fine

But this is too big a planet to be alone.

To be alone.

To be alone.

I'm fine I feel fine

But it's too big a planet to be alone.

To be alone... there's something wrong inside of me.

To be alone... something that's neither true nor false.

To be alone... bad habits, bad destiny."

PD: I'm sorry if there is a bad translation or some parts are difficult to understand :c

[jindallaebe]

I'VE GOT YOU 조진달래 → 스티비

the drive to gyeonggi wasn't bad. in fact, jindallae's convinced that it'll probably be one of his favorite parts of his their day, even if it's just the prelude to it. he enjoyed the peace of being able to focus on the road, he liked listening to stevie talk, and he especially loved discovering more about him from the songs he'd play. before they met up, he told him to build a playlist for them to jam to, and every song caught his ear in one way or another.

overall, it was nice to slow down like that for a little while. that's not something that happens for jindallae that often, and he appreciated stevie's company during that moment.

now, though, they're standing in the adventure zone of a sports monster—a place he's always wanted to share with someone, and he has a hunch stevie will be the perfect person to experience it with. every time they've gotten together, they end up doing something physical; adventurous. they spent all day surfing in the summertime, skateboarded all afternoon in the springtime, and hiked aurulent mountain trails in autumn, so he figured planning something mirroring those memories would feel the most natural.

while he wants this to feel like a date to stevie, jindallae thinks it's important to ensure that they have fun, too, so as he turns to stevie, he gazes down at him and grins. "now you can see why i told you to wear gym clothes," he quips, his sights sweeping through their surroundings; the technicolor layout vibrant and energizing.

"i thought we could start with one of the rock-climbing walls, but if you have any other ideas, i'll follow your lead. i have a feeling we're gonna be here for awhile anyway, there's so much to do." thankfully, it's not that packed with people either. the cooler weather must have people staying home, which he's more than fine with. "though, i will admit, part of the reason why i think the rock-climbing walls would be fun is because i think you'll look super cute working your way up to the top."

hopefully his teasing remark isn't taken the wrong way. he'd hate himself for making things awkward so soon into their day. "you think you're up for the challenge?"

[cosmorice]

Lie

Pairing: businessman!eren jaeger x reader

Genre: angst

Tw: sad, no happy ending

Wc: 1.7k

Song rec: Lie by Nessa Barrett

November 10th, 2023

The yellow-hued leaves crinkled against your thickened boots as you strolled down the bustling streets of New York. Autumn here was quite beautiful, although you did prefer springtime, where the green and full trees glistened against the sun. The cold air tickles your face before your movements come to an abrupt halt. A tall man cowers above you, emerald green eyes sparkling as he profusely apologizes. You manage to give him a small smile and wave off the accidental mishap. It was rush hour after all. People have jobs and lives. You manage to get a better glimpse of him. His broad shoulders were covered in a black business suit, complimenting the loosely done bun that his brown locks were in. He seemed to be well established. You hoped to maybe, just maybe, bump into the handsome stranger once more.

November 13th, 2023

Heading home after another boring day at the office was a pain in the ass. You were not looking forward to being on the jam-packed trains. But here you were, waiting for the next train to take you home. Oh how good that sounds right now to just be snuggled in your warm bed. After about 5 minutes of watching rats crawl through the tracks, the loud train comes to a screeching halt as you begin to board. Grabbing onto the first railing you spot overhead, you notice a familiar loose bun in your peripheral view. 

“Hey, you’re the guy that bumped into me the other day.” You laugh, as he turns to face you. Those damn emerald eyes catching your gaze, as his face heats up in a light shade of crimson.

Stand clear of the closing doors please.

What were the odds that you’d see him again? Maybe god answered your prayers? Who knows. What you do wish now though, is that you never encountered him. Ever again.

December 31st, 2023

A month goes by. A month of movie dates, sleepovers, late night calls, traveling to the inner depths of the city for pizza, before he decides to make things official. It was you and Eren against the world. He began opening up about how his family resided back home in Tokyo, a family that consisted of a stay at home mom, his adopted sister Mikasa, and his now deceased father. 

The past month was a whirlwind to say the least. You fell hard and fast, along with Eren. He was charming, intelligent, humorous, and everything that you envisioned in a dream man. You could say that you were in love. 

The music was booming, as the clock struck 11:00PM. Your friends sky rise apartment overlooked the city, and lucky for you all, you got a pretty kickass view of Times Square. You were radiant the whole night, excitedly chattering away and introducing Eren to all of your friends at the gathering. Everyone adored him, some even compared him to your last boyfriend, Levi, who ended up cheating on you with some bimbo you can’t even remember. Of course Eren knew about this. Conversations flowed so freely between the both of you, and as you explained the hurt and pain that Levi caused, Eren made a promise that you were his & he was yours. Forever.

The countdown began as a drunk Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen graced the gigantic television screen in the living room. Everyone who was oh so casually buzzed, joins in obnoxiously.

5…you turn and meet with those emerald eyes, those eyes that caught your attention that fateful November day

4…the butterflies begin to swirl, or maybe it’s the alcohol

3…eren’s beautiful smile entrances you as he takes a step forward

2…a loose strand of hair falls from underneath the beanie that dawns his head

1…his soft pink lips trap in between yours as the party erupts with joy

What a way to ring in the New Year.

June 7th, 2024

8 months since you met your other half, or so you thought. Everything happened so quickly, and maybe that’s why you both were reaching a slow burn now. It’s been weeks since he last grazed your skin. Weeks since you last felt his lips passionately overlapping yours. Now whenever he returns home, it’s nothing but a small exchange of,

“Not tonight love, I’m headed to bed. Work has been exhausting.”

The sudden disruption in your relationship was all too familiar. You dealt with this once before. He wouldn’t cheat right? Eren was one of the chairmen for a well-known party company, and it was summer which was the peak for their business. You sigh as you pour a glass of wine and linger around the living room for a moment, contemplating what your next move should be. Grabbing your phone, you shoot a text to Eren’s sister, who you’ve only communicated with via. FaceTime calls and texts.

Y/N: SOS

Mikasa: What’s going on? Just woke up

You forgot about the time gap that filled in between New York & Tokyo. Did you really want to bug Mikasa so early on in her day with this bullshit? Yes. Yes you did.

Y/N: Eren’s been acting off recently Mikasa: Explain further Y/N: He hasn’t really, done much with me in weeks. I’m not really a priority for him anymore. It’s strange how distant he’s become. Mikasa: Hmm…if it gives you peace of mind, maybe talk to him?  Y/N: Alright, I’ll keep you updated xo

Did you truly want to talk to him? Of course, but you couldn’t shake off the gnawing feeling that was telling you to look through his phone. That was the one thing that would give you peace of mind. So that’s exactly what you decided to do. Eren’s light snores filled the shared bedroom that you once held countless passionate nights in for the past two months. Tip toeing ever so gently, you swipe his phone from the nightstand before returning to the living room.

❛The hardest pill to swallow,

Is knowing that tomorrow you’re not mine❜

Your blood runs cold as a singular tear leaves a trail of moisture and warmth down your cheek before nestling in between your quivering lips. There was another woman. You instantly knew you couldn’t compete. You shouldn’t have to. If he truly loved you, he wouldn’t go astray. Not like this. Her bare breasts graced the screen, along with her toothy smile, in one of the many pictures that were exchanged between them. Who was she? A co-worker? The stereotypical secretary sleeping around for a better position? 

❛If I don’t get to have you,

Thank God our matching tattoos last for life❜

You glance down at your marked arm. In a whirlwind and drunken night out with Eren, you both decided to get matching tattoos. You remember the shocked expression that took over his face as you slurred the words ‘Let’s get tattoos’, but he agreed nonetheless. You both laughed and ran through the crowded nighttime streets of New York and headed into the tattoo parlor. As cheesy as it was, the tiny heart appears to taunt you as regret instantly clouds your mind. You knew that this wasn’t worth fighting for. What happened to him. The promise he made you. Why did he do this.

You continue to torture yourself as you scroll through more of their steamy message exchanges. The living room light emitting a faint buzzing sound as your salty tears gently tap onto the phone screen.

❛I know I can’t help,

If you meet someone else❜

Life was full of surprises. This being one of them. Although unpleasant, you knew you couldn’t control his emotions, as much as you had wanted to. The mascara dries along your reddened cheeks as you pour another glass of wine.

❛You can take her home,

She can get you high❜

You suddenly heard the heavy patter of feet behind you as you saw a picture of the two casually smoking together, Eren’s arms wrapped around the mystery girls waist with smiles plastered across their faces.

You knew Eren smoked every once in a while to help with his anxiety, and you could only assume that the two were at a party as a purple hue dawned their joyous faces.

“Y/N what are you doi-,” Eren stops dead in his tracks, hair messily displayed as he awakens from his slumber. He was caught. Red fucking handed. The tension could easily be cut with a knife as no words are spoken between the two of you. You can’t even look him in the eye as he takes a seat next to you. The fucking audacity of this man. “Listen, I can explain,” You tune him out, hearing nothing but muffled noise. You were in a daze.

❛You can hold her heart,

Even after you broke mine❜

The next few weeks were filled with Eren trying to win you over once again, only for him to be met with cold responses. Your friends were in the midst of trying to get you out of there. Why did your lovestruck ass have to sign a lease with him so quickly? Well, that’s all in the past now. If he wanted her, he can have her.

A bouquet of roses? You threw them in the trash.

A reservation to your favorite restaraunt? You didn’t bother to show.

Bringing back the daily routine you once had of him giving you a kiss and twirling you when he comes home from work? Eh, I don’t think so.

❛You can tell her that you love her,

As long as it’s a lie❜

The night when you first found everything on his phone, you saw the exchanges of ‘I love you’s’ between the pair, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You prayed silently it was just the lust talking, and he didn’t truly love her. But what difference would it make? The damage had already been done.

Eren was broken. He felt like his world came crashing down right before his very eyes. His heart shattered inch by inch with each attempt proving to be a failure in his aim to win you back. 

July 2nd, 2024

Eren was speechless to come home with you nowhere in sight, was this just a bad dream? No. It couldn’t be. You had left. No goodbye, no note. Nothing. The apartment was cold & empty. He knew he lost you for good now. Was a quick fuck worth losing someone this important to him? His once green and dazzling eyes were now dark and gloomy, tears threatening to spill out at any given moment.

Your heart was broken in two as you sat in your new apartment, nestled in the heart of Manhattan. You wanted so badly to text Eren, but you knew in your heart, that you deserved better. Much better. Your phone vibrates beneath you.

"Shit." You hiss, forgetting to block his number.

Eren: Please, can we talk?

[razorsadness]

Then the trip to Chicago. It was a day of moments of synchronicity, a day of the perfect songs playing at the perfect times; it was a day of new memories layered upon old memories layered upon even older memories. The now layered on top of 2014 on top of 2013 on top of 2010 on top of 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004, 2003, 2002, 2001, 2000, 1999, 1998. (Layers and layers of ghosts.) It was a day of writing new poems in my head while being reminded of things I’ve written in the past.

It was so good just to be on a train again. October train, to Chicago! Chicago! I once wrote that it seemed I was always on trains in the springtime, but oh, there have been so many autumn trains. My rail-riding has its seasons, just like anything. Metras and Amtraks in the autumn, freight trains in the spring. (Though, of course, as soon as I wrote that, I remembered all the autumn freight rides and the springtime commuter trains.)

The trip down was streaks of blue sky, white cloud, autumn leaves crimson & scarlet, orange & gold, giving way to smears of redbrown brick, gray cement, rainbows of graffiti. I listened to a Wilco playlist, and “Via Chicago” came on just as the train breached the city limits, and there was this low-hanging layer of gray clouds cracked through with October morninglight and the whole skyline glowing and Jeff Tweedy singing I’m coming home, and I was, I was.

[from a journal entry, October 30, 2022]

[windermeresimblr]

OC Obscure Associations Tag

I was tagged by @treason-and-plot! Thank you, Pru! Of course I chose Alasdair.

Animal: Badger. Colors: Green, blue, and red. Month: May (he's a softie and loves to see flowers blooming and the world returning to life, shhh.). Songs: I always associate him with the Master and Commander version of "Musica notturna della strade di Madrid," because it's just such a lovely piece and he originally began life in my head as a companion to Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin. (And perhaps one day he might play a duet with a certain Spanish bluestocking…) And--this is a touch self-indulgent--"Chì mi na mòrbheanna", specifically for a loose translation of one line that goes "in the hunts of the deer shall I roam." Never mind that poor Alasdair doesn't like deer! Number: 8. Plants: Tulips. Smells: I'm hopeless at smells, so consider this a freebie! Gemstone: Freshwater pearls. Time of Day: Early morning. Season: Spring. Places: The loch by the McCarrics' house; his mamma's townhouse in London from when he was a boy; in the forest when sun shines through the canopy. Food: White soup, as in Pride and Prejudice. Drinks: Mulled wine. Element: Earth. Astrological Sign: Aquarius. (This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius / Age of Aquarius / Aquarius…) Seasonings: Mustard, ginger, marigold blossoms Sky: Dawn breaking through the clouds, followed by a wild stormy sky. Weather: Clear and bright; whether sunny and mild in the springtime or brisk and chill in the autumn, he doesn't have much preference. Magical Power: Time travel, of course! (Also he has some psychic ability…he is a very, very good guesser.) Weapon: A claymore. Social Media: He doesn't have one. If he were in the modern era, he'd have an Instagram focused solely on his beloved, spoiled rotten Scottie dog Wee Lassie and her antics, where he would make appearances only as a hand giving her treats or petting her. Make-up Product: None, though as a teen his mother would hold him down and wash his face with all kinds of concoctions to "fix his pimples." This did not work, but fortunately our Alasdair is a handsome man anyways! Method of Long-Distance Travel: Ship. Art Style: He's in the weeds of the 18th and 19th-century Academic style, but I think he'd like the Preraphaelites. I think he'd also love the Fauvists. Fear: Deer (though he'd never admit that), losing control (sorry buddy) Mythological Creature: Centaur. Piece of Stationary: Sealing-wax. When he was a child he would play with bits of sealing-wax, rolling them into balls, squashing them, etc. More than once he burnt his fingers trying to melt it. Three Emojis: He's from the Regency. Modern Alasdair: 🦡🐴🐶 Celestial Body: The Pleiades.

[womblegrinch]

George Henry (1858-1943) - On the Banks of Allan Water : Autumn

Oil on canvas. Painted in 1888.

43.75 x 41 inches, 111 x 104 cm. Estimate: £20,000-30,000.

Sold Lyon & Turnbull, Edinburgh, 26 Sept 2024.

Second part of a triptych to illustrate On the Banks of Allan Water, a popular song, the three works were installed in a mansion house and have not been seen in public before.

The triptych was sold privately prior to the sale for £237,650 including B.P.

On the Banks of Allan Water When the sweet springtime did fall Was the miller’s lovely daughter, Fairest of them all, For his bride a soldier sought her, And a winning tongue had he! On the Banks of Allan Water, None so gay as she.

On the Banks of Allan Water, When brown Autumn spreads its store There I saw the Miller’s daughter, But she smiled no more. For the summer grief had brought her And her soldier, false was he; On the Banks of Allan Water, None so sad as she.

On the Banks of Allan Water, When the winter snow fell fast, There I saw the Miller’s daughter; Chilling blew the blast, But the miller’s lovely daughter, Both from care and cold was free; On the Banks of Allan Water, There a corpse lay she.

I've posted the other two paintings that were also in the sale.

[theravenchild]

Our dearest Hellendil, has anyone ever asked you what your favourite season is and why?

Hmm, I suppose not, but I'll most certainly answer for you, my dear! My favourite season is definitely Spring. I just love when the weather starts to turn warm and everything is in bloom. The birds begin greeting us each morning with their songs and everyone starts wearing such beautiful colours. I'm also one to enjoy spending time outdoors, hiking or taking a walk through the woods, so springtime is wonderful for that.

Honestly, I quite enjoy Autumn as well because of the similar weather and getting to see my friends again at school, but I'm still most fond of Spring. Thank you for asking, my friend!

[notaguidinglight]

Eras Tour Imagery - Fearless/evermore transition

The gold glitter of the Fearless set transforms into water droplets.

The water droplets give way to a scene of ice melting on leaf-covered ground. The leafs we see are red and orange in color.

We see more images of ice melting. Here, it's icicles on a ledge or a roof.

A forest is revealed, and it appears to be sunrise. Trees start to emerge from the stage.

The forest scene is set with the stage beginning to be enveloped by fog and an orange glow.

Interpretation:

This is possibly my favorite transition on the tour. Not only because evermore is my favorite album, but because I think the transition is very revealing.

The transition begins with the motif of ice melting on ground, which brings to mind early springtime. To me this feels wrong when you first remember evermore was released in December. So shouldn't the snow be falling? I think the melting, the thawing could have more to do with what evermore represents. A thawing out of certain feelings, or the idea of transitioning to something new. Evermore has both of those themes. Returning to an old lover, and becoming ready to step to the next phase of your life. Taylor has also used the theme of being frozen and frozen ground multiple times in her songs.

"My, my love had been frozen" (Dancing With Our Hands Tied)

"This has frozen my ground" (hoax)

"A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground" (the lakes)

"He's got my past frozen been glass" (it's time to go)

"Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?" (right where you left me)

"Soldier down on that icy ground" (The Great War)

Is the real Taylor slowly unfreezing? Is her muse, her love thawing out with her?

The denotation of springtime also sets us up to go on a journey through time during the evermore set. As we will see in the next songs, the scene continually changes until we have reached winter.

The red leafs on the ground also spark thought of Red the album. Very autumnal vibes. At first glance it makes sense that autumn leafs are being revealed under the snow in spring. But another connection to the Red album, which Taylor keeps pointing us back to (e.g. the Wildest Dreams glitch video). Is the Red muse becoming unfrozen? Autumn leaves were also seen under the willow tree in the Willow music video and all over the Spotify Global Top Artist image.

In the forest, we see that it's sunrise. The dawn of a new day. We saw the addition of daylight in the new Lover house, and we see it here too. "But the monsters turned out to be just trees/When the sun came up, you were looking at me."

The trees the come out the stage are interesting. They look most similar to Mediterranean cypress trees because of the smaller diameter and the height of the trees. There are some on the screen in the very foreground as well. Mediterranean cypress have symbolism for mourning, cemeteries, and the underworld. They are also linked to Roman goddess Diana. "I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones/In a faith-forgotten land."

Video image credits: Liu Andy/Youtube, Taylor Swift/Youtube, Spotify/Youtube