#Yours is the most romantic song ever I will take no discussion

[dulcidyne]

Tagged by the wonderful @kirschewine! <3 Thank you! <3 I'm pretty happy with this shuffle, not 1 but TWO Metric songs plus Chvrches and Purity Ring. Pretty good sampling imo.

Rules: Shuffle music library, list 10 songs, tag people, woo!

[brunchable]

LAZARUS SERUM || Steve Rogers x Enhanced!FReader

FINAL

Part One | Part Two | Part Three Words: 10.4K Themes: Drama, Lovers to Enemies, Enemies to Lovers. Warning: Nothing really? Sneak Peak: “I can’t believe they had this,” he says, his voice tinged with nostalgia as he carefully places the vinyl of ‘You Belong to Me’ by Jo Stafford on the turntable. The record crackles softly as the needle touches down, and soon, the sultry, smooth sound of a saxophone fills the room. A/N: This is probably the most romantic thing I've ever written, to me at least. Up to you if you want to hear the Song played in this story. Anyways Last Part, definitely enjoyed giving some life into this, I will miss this story now that it's over. Brb I'm going to cry.

Tags: @haruvalentine4321@strepsils123@realifelamb@needsleep3000@vicmc624@i-can-do-this-all-dayy@mrs-jjmaybank @nesnejwritings @feelinthefic@niffala@fantasyfootballchampion@thefandomplace @bellajean9-blog

Steve could hardly bring himself to watch as they treated your body with a clinical detachment that made his chest tighten. He knew this was protocol—you were government property now, subject to the rigorous examination and eventual autopsy that all enhanced individuals faced in death. Despite the protocol, the medical team was ordered to delay the autopsy until all Hydra officials are cleared out.

Steve sat by your side, holding your hand. It was cold now, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. The room was filled with the faint beeping of machines monitoring nothing at all. They were just there, another part of the procedure, keeping track of a body that showed no signs of life.

He barely left the room, and when he did, it was only because someone—Natasha, Tony, or Sam—forced him to. He didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, just sat there, his mind replaying the events that had led them to this point. The sound of Pierce pressing that button echoed in his head, a constant reminder of what had been lost.

Days passed, each one blurring into the next. The doctors kept their vigil, waiting for the required period to pass before they could begin the autopsy. For Steve, those days felt like an eternity. He refused to leave your side, clutching your cold hand as if it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. He whispered to you words that even he wasn’t sure he believed—words of love, of regret, of apologies for not being able to save you.

Natasha checked on Steve regularly, bringing him food that often went untouched. Tony lingered at the door more often than not, wanting to offer comfort but unsure of how to bridge the growing chasm of grief that separated Steve from the rest of the world. Sam tried to talk to him, tried to get him to rest, but Steve was a statue.

On the fourth day, the medical team began to prepare for the inevitable. The necessary observations had been made, and there was no sign of any changes. The protocol was clear—they would move forward with the autopsy. 

Steve felt the weight of the world pressing down on him as he overheard the quiet conversation between two of the doctors at the door, discussing the next steps. It was like the final nail in a coffin that had been closing around him for days.

He had known this was coming, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. The thought of them cutting into you, of them treating your body like just another subject in their endless quest for knowledge, made something inside him twist painfully. But he didn’t stop them. He couldn’t. This was beyond him now, beyond anything he could control.

Finally, the lead doctor approached Steve, her expression one of professional sympathy. “Captain Rogers,” she began, her voice gentle, “we need to start the procedure. We’ll take care of her… with the utmost respect.”

Steve nodded numbly, his throat too tight to form words. He stood up slowly, his legs heavy as if they were made of lead, and leaned down to press a final kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against her cold skin for a moment longer than necessary.

“I love you,” he whispered.

No answer.

With a heavy heart, Steve turned and walked out of the isolation room, the door closing softly behind him. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. Every step felt like an insurmountable task, his body weighed down by a grief so profound that it was all he could do to keep moving.

As the door sealed shut, the doctors began their work, the room’s sterile lights flickering as the gravity of the situation settled over them like a shroud. 

Outside, Steve leaned against the wall, the sterile corridor around him a blur. He felt Natasha’s presence beside him, her hand gently resting on his arm, offering silent support. But there were no words that could heal this wound, no comfort that could ease the pain of losing you. . .for real.

Inside the room, the lead doctor took a deep breath and steadied her hand as she reached for the scalpel. The cold metal glinted under the sterile lights as she positioned it above your chest. The other doctors stood ready, watching closely, their expressions grim behind their surgical masks.

With a calm, steady motion, the doctor pressed the scalpel down, expecting the blade to cut through the skin with ease. But instead of the familiar sensation of metal slicing flesh, the blade stopped short, bending as if it had struck something impossibly hard.

“What the—?” the doctor gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she lifted the scalpel. She examined it closely, her heart pounding in her chest. The blade, which should have cut cleanly, was bent at an unnatural angle, as if it had been pressed against solid steel instead of skin.

The room went still, a heavy silence descending as the other doctors leaned in, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

“What happened?” one of the nurses asked.

“I don’t know,” the lead doctor replied, her voice unsteady. She cautiously reached out, placing her hand on your chest, feeling for any sign of movement, of life. The skin beneath her fingers was cold and unmoving. Before she could pull her hand away, you grabbed her wrist, your eyes snapped open, wide and unseeing, and you drew in a sharp, ragged breath.

“AHHHH!” The lead doctor jumped back with a scream, dropping the bent scalpel as she stumbled into a tray of instruments, sending them clattering to the floor. 

The other doctors recoiled in shock, their faces pale with disbelief as they watched your chest rise and fall, your breaths shallow and erratic.

Your eyes were wild and unfocused, your mind struggling to make sense of what was happening. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive with a burning sensation that tore through you. You tried to move, to sit up, but your limbs feel heavy, uncooperative.

Outside, Steve heard the commotion and felt his heart leap into his throat. He pushed the door open, his breath catching in his chest as he saw you—alive, gasping for air.

“Y/N!” Steve shouted, rushing to your side. He reached out, his hand trembling as he tried to steady you, to offer some comfort. But you flinched at his touch, recoiling as if his hand had burned you.

When you looked at him, there was no relief—only confusion and fear. You yanked your hand out of his grasp, your body tensing as you scrambled to push yourself up. Your movements were jerky, uncoordinated, survival instinct kicking in.

“Where… where am I?” you gasped, your voice a mixture of confusion and alarm. “What’s happening? Steve—what did you do?”

Steve’s heart sank. He knew the signs; the serum had done more than just bring you back to life—it had reset your mind, made you relive old traumas. To you, it was as if the breakup had just happened, and the trust you had rebuilt was shattered once again.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” Steve said gently, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. “You’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you.”

But his words only seemed to fuel your confusion. 

“Stay back, asshole!” you shouted, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the machines, the sterile environment. You felt trapped, cornered.

Before Steve could react, you launched yourself at him, your movements quick but disoriented. You swung at him, your fists connecting with surprising force as you fought to defend yourself from what you perceived as a threat. Steve caught your wrists, trying to restrain you without hurting you, but your strength was fueled by the fear coursing through you.

“Y/N, stop!” Steve pleaded, his voice strained as he struggled to hold you back. “I’m not going to hurt you! Please, just listen to me!”

But you were beyond reason. The serum had done its work too well, resetting you to a time when trust had been shattered and your emotions were raw. To you, Steve was the enemy, the one who had broken your heart. You fought with everything you had, your punches wild but powerful, driven by your fresh emotions.

Steve didn’t fight back, only defended himself, his heart jumping with every strike you landed. 

“Y/N, please,” he said, his voice cracking as he managed to pin your arms down, his face inches from yours. “I’m not your enemy. You’re confused… the serum… it did something to you. But I’m here to help. I’m here for you.”

You continued to struggle. Desperate to make you stop, to get through to you, Steve did the only thing he could think of. He leaned in and possessed your lips with his soft ones, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss—his love, his regret, his longing. Steve kissed you like he was drowning and needed the air. 

Your eyes widened in shock, your naked body stiffening as Steve took you by surprise. For a moment, you fought against it, your mind screaming at you to pull away. But the intensity of the kiss, the raw emotion behind it, started to break through the fog of confusion. Your struggles began to weaken, your fists unclenching as you slowly stopped fighting.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel the kiss, the familiar warmth of his lips on yours, and the emotions it stirred within you. The walls you had built up began to crack, and you leaned into him, letting your guard down.

But just as quickly, the reality of the fractured relationship hit you like a freight train. The trust he had broken, the pain he had caused—it all came rushing back. Your eyes snapped open, and a surge of anger flared within you.

With a burst of strength, you shoved Steve back, your eyes blazing with fury. 

“This is for breaking my heart!” you hissed, driving your knee into his crotch with brutal force.

Steve gasped, doubling over in pain, but before he could react, you struck again, your voice laced with venom. 

“And this is for making promises you can't keep.” you delivered a second, equally vicious kick, sending him to the ground.

Steve collapsed, clutching his midsection, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to recover from the blows. He looked up at you, face red in terrible pain. 

“Y/N… I’m sorry…” 

You stood over him, your chest heaving with exertion and emotion, but your resolve wavered. You had wanted to hurt him, to make him feel the pain he had caused you, but seeing him like this, the man you still loved despite everything, made you falter.

You took a shaky step back, your anger beginning to ebb, replaced by confusion and exhaustion. Your head was spinning, the effects of the serum still clouding your mind, making it hard to think straight.

Steve slowly pushed himself up, wincing with every movement, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. He could see the conflict in your eyes, the struggle between your anger and the love you had once shared. He knew he deserved every bit of your wrath, but it didn’t change the fact that he needed to reach you, to help you through this.

“Y/N…” he started, his voice soft, filled with regret. “I know I hurt you. And I’m so sorry. But I’m not going to give up on you. I’m here now, and I’m not leaving.”

× × × × 

Tony Stark wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when he made his way to the medical wing of the Compound. Ever since your death, the atmosphere had been oppressively heavy, with Steve barely leaving your side. The team was on edge, everyone handling their grief in their own way. But Tony knew something had changed—he had caught wind of the commotion in the medical bay, and his curiosity, mixed with concern, got the better of him.

As he approached the door to the room where you were being kept, Tony could hear the faint sounds of a struggle—a thud, followed by muffled voices. His brows furrowed in concern. Steve had been in there for days, practically refusing to move, and now…what the hell was going on?

He quickened his pace, just in time to hear your voice, filled with unresolved anger, though it was shaky and weak. Tony couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable—this was bad.

Tony reached the doorway just as your knee drove into Steve’s crotch with brutal force. The sight made him stop in his tracks, eyes wide as Steve crumpled to the floor, clutching himself in obvious pain.

“HOLY SHIT,” Tony blurted out, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. He had seen a lot in his time as Iron Man, but this…this was something else. He instinctively stepped back, half-expecting to need to intervene, but also too stunned to fully process what was happening.

Before Tony could react further, other medical staff rushed into the room, alerted by the commotion. They immediately moved toward you, trying to cover your naked body. You were visibly disoriented, your chest heaving with exertion. “Ma’am, please, you need to stay calm,” one of the nurses said gently, trying to approach you with caution. “We’re here to help you.”

But you, still caught in the confusion of your reset mind, saw the medics as another threat. 

“Stay away from me!” you shouted. As one of the nurses reached out to check your vitals, you ripped off the telemetry wires attached to you, the monitors emitting frantic beeps before falling silent.

“Y/N, it’s okay,” another medic tried to soothe, but you were having none of it. 

Your movements were erratic as you swatted their hands away, “I don’t need your help!”

Tony watched, half in awe, half in concern, as you continued to resist the medics’ attempts to care for you. He knew better than to get in the middle of it, but he couldn’t help but step in with a bit of his usual Stark charm.

“Whoa, whoa, guys,” Tony said, raising his hands in a calming gesture as he moved forward. “Let’s give her some space, alright? She just came back from the dead—probably needs a minute.”

The medics hesitated, looking between Tony and you, unsure whether to back off or insist on providing care. 

Tony gave them a wink that said, ‘Trust me on this,’ and after a moment, they reluctantly stepped back, keeping a watchful eye on you from a safer distance.

Now free of the wires and the medics’ touch, you stood shakily, your eyes darting around the room as you tried to make sense of everything. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed and vulnerable in the sterile environment. 

Tony passed you a hospital gown, his eyes looking everywhere except your body.

Steve, still recovering from the brutal knee to his groin, slowly pushed himself up from the floor. He was in pain, both physical and emotional, but his concern for you overrode everything else. 

“Y/N,” he said softly, trying to reach you without spooking you further. “Please, just listen to me.”

Tony, sensing the delicate balance of the situation, decided to break the tension with a bit of levity. 

“Okay, let’s take a breath here,” he said, stepping between you slightly, though careful not to put himself in your direct line of fire. 

“Steve, buddy, we really need to work on your situational awareness. You’ve got the super-soldier strength, the reflexes… but somehow, you’re still a magnet for knees to the jewels. Twice in one day? Seriously?”

Steve, still wincing in pain, shot Tony a pained look. “Not the time, Tony.”

Tony, completely undeterred, shrugged. “I’m just saying, next time maybe lead with the shield. Protecting America’s ass is important, but protecting America’s future generations… Now that’s crucial. I can even add some extra padding to your suit. Think about it—‘Ballistic Protection’ could be the next big thing.” 

Steve gave Tony a look that was part exasperation, part grudging amusement. “Thanks, Tony. I’ll… consider it.”

Tony smirked, clearly pleased with himself, but his tone softened as he turned to Y/N. “And you, welcome back, Y/N. Hell of a return. But, uh, maybe take it easy on the guy, huh? He’s not as indestructible as he looks.”

You blinked, your anger dimming slightly as Tony’s words cut through the haze. You looked at him, then back at Steve, the fight slowly draining out of you. 

“I… I don’t know what’s happening.”

Steve, still wincing in pain but determined to help, took a tentative step closer. “You’re safe now, Y/N.”

Your eyes filled with tears. You wanted to believe him, but the fear and confusion made it hard to know what was real.

Seeing you distress, one of the medics stepped forward again, this time more cautiously. “Ma’am, please, let us help you. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

You looked at the medic, then back at Steve. The fight had left you, replaced by a deep exhaustion. Slowly, you nodded, allowing the medics to approach you more carefully this time.

Tony watched as the medics gently guided you to a chair, their movements slow and deliberate, ensuring you felt safe. He caught Steve’s eye, giving him a small nod of encouragement. “She’s tough, Rogers. She’ll be fine.”

As the medics began to reattach the telemetry wires to you, Tony took a step back, giving them space to work. He turned to leave, but not before giving Steve a pat on the shoulder. 

× × × ×

6 months later.

The late morning air is crisp and cool as you step out of your father’s old home—well now yours. The grand house sits tucked into a forested valley, surrounded by towering pine trees that stretch toward the sky, their branches swaying gently in the cool mountain breeze. It’s a place untouched by the outside world, a small haven carved out in nature’s embrace. The air is filled with the scent of earth and pine, a sharp contrast to the steel and smoke of the life you left behind.

This has become your sanctuary over the past six months—a place where you can try to make sense of the world. A place where the world slows down, where you can finally allow yourself to exhale. Here, in this secluded corner of the world, you’re not defined by the battles you’ve fought or the name you carry. You’re simply… you.

You’ve been brought up to speed on everything you need to know, who you've become, the details of modern life, but no amount of information can change the fact that you feel like a relic of the past. The government knew where you were though, Steve fought in preventing you from going into The Raft and the outcome was putting a tracker in your arm, indefinitely.

You know your name will always be painted red, no matter what you do, and you’ve accepted that. So, you’ve chosen to lay low, to live quietly, far from the chaos that once defined your life.

As you prepare to run your errands—simple tasks that help you maintain a sense of normalcy—you step out onto the porch, pausing as you catch sight of a familiar figure leaning casually against a motorcycle in your driveway. 

Steve Rogers.

Steve stands there in his usual effortless style, somehow managing to make even the simplest outfit look undeniably charming. He’s wearing a navy blue Henley shirt that clings just enough to show off his broad shoulders and strong chest, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the toned muscles of his forearms. His worn, dark-wash jeans fit perfectly, comfortably broken in from years of wear, sitting low on his hips. 

A brown leather jacket is slung over the seat of his motorcycle, its aged texture adding a rugged element to his otherwise clean look. His boots—scuffed, but sturdy—are planted firmly on the gravel of your driveway, completing the look of someone who is always ready to hit the road at a moment’s notice. 

His hair, slightly tousled by the breeze, catches the light, and his blue eyes are the kind that seem to cut straight through any walls you’ve tried to build.

You feel a familiar tug in your chest, a mix of emotions you’ve tried to push aside for months. Despite everything, despite how often you’ve pushed him away, Steve never misses a chance to show up. He’s determined, and no amount of rejection seems to deter him. It’s something that both infuriates and touches you deeply.

Steve looks up as you approach, a warm smile spreading across his face. His blue eyes, as clear and sincere as ever, meet yours, and for a moment, the world around you seems to fade into the background.

“Morning, just stopping by to check on you.” he greets, his voice soft, but with that unmistakable tone of affection that always makes your heart skip a beat.

“Stopping by?” you reply, raising an eyebrow with a touch of sarcasm. “You seem too far away from home.”

“Guess I couldn’t stay away,” he admits, his smile not fading. 

“You’ve been stopping by a lot lately, Rogers.” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to maintain your guarded demeanor, though the small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth betrays you. 

“Yeah,” he says, his tone more serious as he takes a step closer. “I guess I have. I can’t help myself.”

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” You sigh, shaking your head.

Steve’s smile softens, his eyes filled with a sincerity that makes your chest tighten. “I just… wanted to see you. Make sure you’re doing okay.”

You look at him, really look at him, and see the sincerity in his eyes—the same sincerity that has always been there, even back in 1940. He’s changed, of course, as you all have, but in some ways, he’s still the same Steve you knew all those years ago. The one who would go to the ends of the earth for the people he loves.

You shake your head, more at yourself than at him, and let out a soft sigh. “Your persistence is maddening, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Steve’s smile widens, that boyish, heartwarming grin that always seems to disarm you. 

You glance down at the checklist for your errands. “I was just about to head out. Got some things to take care of in town.”

Steve nods, not missing a beat. “Mind if I tag along? I promise not to be too much of a nuisance.”

You hesitate for a moment, weighing your options. You could send him away, as you’ve done so many times before, or you could let him in, even if just a little. The latter option is the more dangerous one—dangerous to the walls you’ve built around yourself—but it’s also the one that tugs at your heartstrings the most.

With a resigned sigh, you nod. “Alright, fine. But if you’re coming with me, you’re carrying the heavy stuff.”

Steve grins, that familiar spark in his eyes. “Deal.”

As you walk toward your car, Steve falls into step beside you, his presence a comforting, albeit persistent, reminder that you’re not as alone as you sometimes feel. You reach your car, and you hand him the keys without a word.

“You drive,” you say, giving him a sidelong glance. “I’ve been told I’m too reckless.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You both climb into the car, and as Steve starts the engine, you lean back in your seat, trying to suppress the fluttering in your chest. It’s just a drive into town, just a few errands, but with Steve, everything seems to carry a little more weight, a little more meaning.

× × × ×

The road winds through the mountains, the late morning sun casting a warm, golden light over and trees that line the way.

Steve drives one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift. You steal a glance at him, taking in the way the sunlight filters through his golden hair, the way his brow furrows slightly in concentration, and how his lips curl up in a faint smile whenever he notices something beautiful in the scenery around you.

You don’t realize you’ve been staring until Steve catches your eye, his smile widening just a bit as he notices the slight blush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly look away, pretending to focus on the road ahead, but your heart betrays you, picking up a beat or two.

“You like what you see?” Steve begins, his voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

“You mean the scenery? Of course I do.”

Steve’s smile widens, the corners of his lips tugging upward in that knowing, playful way that makes your stomach flutter. He doesn’t press the point, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he caught your deflection. At this point, he finds your avoidance adorable, the way you pretend to be unfazed by his presence even though the subtle pink in your cheeks betrays you. It’s a game you’ve both been playing for months now—his persistence, your careful distance—but he never seems to tire of it.

His amusement lingers, as if he’s letting you have this small victory, even though you both know he’s winning the larger war. You can feel the weight of his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turns back to the road ahead, content to let you believe you’ve dodged the question, at least for now. He smiles to himself. He’s enjoying this quiet dance, the slow pull that keeps bringing you back to him closer each time, even if you don’t quite realize it yet.

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes your chest tighten—you know exactly what it is, but you’re not sure you’re ready to confront it yet. But before you can dwell on it too long, Steve reaches over and gently places his hand on yours, his fingers warm against your skin.

You freeze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat as you feel the heat of his touch seep through you, spreading warmth through your entire body. You glance down at your hands, intertwined so easily, so naturally. 

Steve’s thumb brushes over your knuckles in a slow, soothing motion, and you realize he’s not letting go. He doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t have to. His touch says everything. It’s a silent promise, a reassurance that he’s here, and he’s not going anywhere.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the feeling overwhelming and yet somehow comforting. It’s a feeling you haven’t allowed yourself to experience in a long time—too afraid of the consequences, of the pain that might come with it.

× × × ×

The small grocery store in town is cozy, with wooden shelves lined with fresh produce, locally made jams, and all the essentials you’d expect in a quaint countryside market. The bell above the door jingles as you and Steve step inside, the familiar sound bringing a sense of warmth and nostalgia that makes you feel more at home than you’d care to admit.

You grab a basket and start weaving through the aisles, Steve trailing just a step behind you. The store is quiet, with only a few other customers browsing, giving the place an intimate, almost serene atmosphere.

“So, what’s on the list?” Steve asks, his voice light as he catches up to you.

You glance at him, pretending to mull it over. “Well, just the usual vegetables, dairy. Nothing too fancy.”

Clearly on board, he nods. “Anything in particular you want me to grab?”

“How about you handle the vegetables? Think you can manage that?” You give him a sidelong glance, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

“I think I can handle a few vegetables, yeah.”

Steve rolls his eyes playfully but nods, heading toward the produce section.

As he walks away, you can’t help but watch him for a moment, noting the way he moves with that effortless confidence that always manages to draw your attention. You shake your head, pushing the thought aside as you focus on gathering the other stuff on your list.

You pick out a loaf of fresh bread, some deli meats, and cheeses, carefully placing them in the basket. As you do, you can’t help but notice an older couple nearby, both of them smiling at you and Steve with a knowing look. You quickly avert your gaze, feeling your cheeks warm slightly. They probably think you’re a couple, and for a split second, the idea doesn’t seem so far-fetched.

You’re rummaging through a bin of ripe tomatoes when Steve returns, holding up a bunch of bright green spinach and some carrots with a triumphant grin. 

“Got the veggies. Anything else?”

You raise an eyebrow, giving the produce in his hands a critical look. “Spinach and carrots, huh? What about some cucumbers? Maybe a bell pepper or two?”

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll go get the cucumbers. Anything else while I’m at it, Your Majesty?”

You suppress a laugh, trying to maintain a straight face. “That should do… for now.”

Steve gives you a mock salute and heads off to fetch the cucumbers. You can’t help but smile as you watch him go, feeling a warmth settle in your chest. This is nice—this easy banter, the lightheartedness of it all. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this comfortable, this… happy.

You move on, grabbing a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice when Steve reappears beside you, holding the cucumbers and adding them to your basket. 

“Anything else, boss?” he asks, his tone teasing.

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the grin that tugs at your lips. “I think we’re good. Let's pay before you start shopping for the entire store.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he says, following you to the register. “But if you want to take charge, I’ll gladly step back.”

You glance at him, playfully bumping your shoulder against his. “You’re just saying that because you know I’d out-shop you any day.”

Steve laughs, a warm, genuine sound that makes you feel giddy. “I have no doubt.”

At the register, the cashier, a friendly older woman, gives you both a warm smile as she starts ringing up your items. “You two make a lovely couple,” she says, her tone sweet and sincere.

You open your mouth to correct her, but Steve beats you to it, flashing her a charming smile. “Thank you,” he says smoothly, casting a quick wink in your direction. “We’re working on it.”

The cashier chuckles, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, from where I’m standing, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

Steve laughs softly, his boyish charm on full display. “I’ll take that as a good sign, then. Can never have too many votes of confidence, right?”

The older woman laughs heartily, clearly enjoying Steve’s playful banter. “With a smile like that, young man, I think you’re well on your way.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. Steve’s ability to charm his way through just about anything never ceases to amaze you.

You shoot him a look after though, fighting the blush that threatens to creep up your cheeks. “We’re… just friends,” you clarify, though your voice doesn’t sound as convincing as you’d like.

The cashier’s smile widens, and she nods knowingly. “Well, take your time, dear. These things have a way of working themselves out.”

You hand over the money, trying to keep your composure as the cashier finishes bagging your groceries. Steve is still grinning as he picks up the bags, and you can’t help but playfully swat at his arm.

“Careful, Rogers,” you warn, though there’s no real heat in your words. “Don’t get too cocky.”

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Who, me? Never.”

After finishing up at the grocery store, Steve wanted to look around town since he's never gotten the chance before. The town is small and quaint, with narrow streets lined with charming shops and cafés. There’s a buzz of activity as locals go about their day, giving the place a lively, yet relaxed atmosphere.

You glance over at Steve, who’s holding the grocery bags with one hand, the other casually resting at his side. 

“So,” you say, tilting your head slightly, “You want to be dragged out here, and now you’re not in a rush to leave. . . what’s the plan, Rogers?”

Steve grins,“I thought maybe we could explore a bit. It’s been a while since we’ve just… wandered.”

“Wandered? That doesn’t sound like you.” You raise an eyebrow, amused by the idea.

“Hey,” he says with mock offense, “I’m perfectly capable of wandering. Besides, it’s a nice day. Thought it might be good to stick around for a while. Unless you’ve got something better to do?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Alright, fine. But you’re buying if we stop for coffee.”

Steve chuckles, nodding as he shifts the grocery bags to one hand. “Deal. Let’s drop these off in the car first.”

After placing the groceries in the trunk, you and Steve start down the street, falling into an easy rhythm as you stroll past the various shops and boutiques. The air is filled with the scent of fresh flowers from a nearby florist, mingling with the aroma of baked goods from a bakery a few doors down.

“This place reminds me of the old neighborhoods back in Brooklyn. Quiet, but with character.” Steve glances around, taking in the sights with a relaxed smile.

You nod, feeling a similar sense of nostalgia. “Yeah, it’s got that small-town charm. Easy to see why people like it here.”

As you walk, you come across a small bookshop with an inviting display in the window. Steve stops, his gaze lingering on the rows of books stacked inside. 

“Mind if we take a look?”

You follow his gaze, surprised by the request. “Didn’t peg you for a bookworm, Rogers.”

“I’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Besides, you never know what you might find.” Steve shrugs, a sheepish grin on his face.

Curiosity piqued, you agreed, and the two of you stepped inside. The shop is cozy, with shelves that reach the ceiling and the comforting scent of old paper and ink. It’s quiet, with just a few other patrons browsing the aisles.

You wander through the store together, occasionally pointing out titles that catch your eye or laughing at the odd, outdated book covers. Steve seems particularly drawn to the history section, naturally, and you can’t help but tease him a little.

“History books?” you ask, leaning against a nearby shelf as he flips through a volume on World War II. “Seems a bit redundant, don’t you think?”

Steve glances up, chuckling. “Maybe. But it’s interesting to see how things have been written down. What they got right, what they didn’t. Helps me understand where we’re at now.”

You nod, understanding the sentiment. “I guess that makes sense. I’ve always thought you were a bit of a history nerd.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admits, slipping the book back onto the shelf. “But I’ve got other interests, too, you know.”

“Oh, really?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”

He gives you a playful look, and wiggles his brows, “I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Before you can respond, the shopkeeper approaches, a friendly smile on her face. “Can I help you find anything?”

Steve shakes his head politely. “Just browsing, thank you.”

The shopkeeper nods and leaves you to continue your exploration. As you move further into the store, you come across a small section dedicated to old records and vinyls. Steve’s face lights up at the sight, and you watch with amusement as he starts flipping through the collection.

“You’re really into this whole retro thing, aren’t you?” you comment, crossing your arms as you lean against a nearby shelf.

Steve looks up, a grin on his face. “It’s not retro for me. This was the stuff we grew up with.” He pulls out a record and holds it up for you to see. “Ever heard this one?”

You glance at the album cover, recognizing the classic design. “Once or twice. My parents were into it.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head. “I’ve got to introduce you to some real music, then.”

You roll your eyes, though you’re secretly enjoying the easy banter. “Please. Like you’ve got anything on my playlist.”

“Careful,” Steve warns playfully, tucking the record under his arm. “I might just take that as a challenge.”

You spend the next couple of hours exploring the town, visiting a few more shops, including a small bakery where Steve insists on buying you a pastry to share. 

At one point, you find yourselves at a small park on the edge of town, where children play on swings and an older couple feeds the ducks at a nearby pond. You sit on a bench, the comfortable silence between you filled with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant chatter.

Steve stares at you as you get lost deep in your thoughts. He takes note of the way your eyes seem to shimmer from the soft sunlight, the way you absently run your fingers through your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. The soft breeze ruffles your hair, and Steve watches as you close your eyes, breathing in the peaceful air of the park.

He can’t help but admire how much you’ve changed—stronger, quieter, more reflective—but still undeniably you. The way you sit there, unguarded, seems almost surreal to him, a glimpse into a version of you he hadn’t seen in so long. 

You shift slightly, pulling your knees up onto the bench and resting your chin on them, your eyes still far away, watching the ducks but not really seeing them. 

“You always think this hard?” Steve finally says, his voice low and playful, though there’s an undeniable softness to it.

You glance over at him, a small, almost shy smile pulling at the corner of your lips. “Sometimes. It’s hard not to when things actually slow down.”

He nods, understanding. “Yeah, I get that.”

There’s something unspoken between you, something that lingers in the air, but Steve doesn’t push it. Instead, he leans back on the bench, content to sit in the quiet with you, enjoying the simplicity of just being there. 

× × × ×

The sun has dipped low in the sky by the time you and Steve return home, the bags of groceries now resting on the kitchen counter. The day’s warmth lingers in the air, a gentle reminder of the easy, carefree hours you spent together wandering through town. 

You begin to unpack your ingredients for dinner, while Steve’s eyes catch your father’s old turntable.

“I can’t believe they had this,” he says, his voice tinged with nostalgia as he carefully places the vinyl of ‘You Belong to Me’ by Jo Stafford on the turntable. The record crackles softly as the needle touches down, and soon, the sultry, smooth sound of a saxophone fills the room. Its deep, rich notes float through the air, warm and lingering, wrapping themselves around you like a gentle embrace.

The saxophone’s melody is soft and slow, each note a whispered caress that draws you in closer. It feels like the sound itself is breathing, pulling you into its rhythm, evoking a feeling of quiet intimacy. The low, honeyed tones swell and dip, painting the room with a romantic warmth, setting the perfect mood for what’s to come. As the saxophone fades into the background, Jo Stafford’s voice soon follows, adding to the song’s haunting beauty. 

See the pyramids along the Nile...   Watch the sunrise on a tropic isle...   Just remember, darling, all the while...   You belong to me...

You freeze mid-motion, the knife hovering over a bell pepper as the first notes of the song play. The melody tugs at something deep inside you, pulling you back to another time, another place. A time when the world wasn’t as complicated, and when you and Steve were just two people who found solace in each other’s arms.

The music wraps around you like a warm blanket, and before you can fully process it, you feel Steve’s presence behind you. His hands gently slide around your waist, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your shirt as if seeking permission before pulling you closer. You can feel the steady, comforting beat of his heart against your back, its rhythm syncing with the music.

He leans in, his breath warm against your neck, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “Do you remember?” he asks, the words soft, filled with memories of late nights and whispered promises.

You nod, your throat tightening with emotion. “How could I forget?” you whisper, setting the knife down on the cutting board, your hands trembling slightly as the music washes over you, bringing with it the bittersweet memories of the life you once had together.

See the marketplace in old Algiers...   Send me photographs and souvenirs...   Just remember when a dream appears...   You belong to me...

Steve’s arms tighten around you, and slowly, gently, he begins to sway to the rhythm of the song, guiding you in a dance that’s as familiar as breathing. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear as he hums along to the lyrics. The sound of his voice, so close and so familiar, sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself leaning into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped by his warmth, his presence.

“I’ve missed this,” Steve murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you surrender to the moment, the memories of your past flooding back with every note of the song. The nights you spent dancing in dimly lit rooms, the way he’d hold you close as if he was afraid to let you go, the way you’d fit so perfectly in his arms—it all comes rushing back, as vivid as if it were yesterday.

Without thinking, you turn in his arms, your hands coming up to rest against his chest. His blue eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best possible way. The song continues to play, the lyrics speaking of distant lands and the longing of two lovers separated by time and space, and it’s as if the song was written just for the two of you.

I’ll be so alone without you...   Maybe you’ll be lonesome too... and blue...

Steve’s hands move to your waist, holding you gently but firmly, his hand holding yours firmly above his heart, and he begins to guide you in a slow dance, his movements fluid and unhurried. There’s something so achingly familiar about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, and you realize that despite everything that’s changed, this—this—feels the same.

You let out a soft, shaky breath as you settle into the dance, your bodies moving together as if no time had passed at all. You’re no longer in the present, no longer in this kitchen, but back in those simpler times, when it was just you and him against the world.

“You’re still a terrible dancer,” you tease, though your voice is filled with affection rather than criticism, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Steve chuckles, the sound vibrating through your chest where it’s pressed against his. “At least I had a pretty good partner,” he counters, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mix of amusement and adoration.

You roll your eyes, though your smile widens as you lean into him, resting your head against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear is a comforting lullaby, grounding you in the here and now, while the music transports you both back to the past.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane...  See the jungle when it’s wet with rain...   Just remember till you’re home again...   You belong to me...

As the lyrics weave their way into your heart, you feel a lump form in your throat, emotions swirling within you that you’ve tried so hard to bury. But here, in Steve’s arms, it’s impossible to keep them at bay. The song’s gentle melody tugs at your heartstrings, each note a reminder of what you once had, what you lost, and what you might be able to find again.

Steve’s hand gently tilts your chin up, and you find yourself staring into those familiar blue eyes—eyes that have seen too much, but still hold a depth of love and understanding that makes your breath catch. He’s so close, his face inches from yours, and you can see the unspoken love in his gaze, the promises he’s made and the ones he’s ready to make again.

“My love for you has never wavered,” Steve whispers, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “Not for a single heartbeat, not even when I believed you were lost to me forever.”

Your heart clenches at his words, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel again, of letting him back in, but here in this moment, it’s impossible to deny the truth. 

“Steve, I…” you start but you’re afraid, terrified even, of opening up again, of risking the pain that comes with loving someone so deeply. But as his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

Fly the ocean in a silver plane...   See the jungle when it’s wet with rain...   Just remember till you’re home again...   You belong to me...

Steve leans in, his forehead resting against yours. It’s just you and him, swaying to the music, breathing in sync, hearts beating as one. The song fades into the background, but the melody lingers in your mind, echoing the sentiment that has always been there, even when you tried to ignore it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve says quietly, his voice a promise, a vow. “I lost you once, and I’m not going to let that happen again. We can take it slow, one day at a time. I’m here, and I’m not giving up.”

You search his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all you find is love—the same love that’s always been there, even when you tried to push it away. 

You nod slowly, allowing yourself to lean into his touch, to let him hold you a little closer. “One day at a time,” you repeat, your voice steadier now. 

Steve smiles, a soft, relieved smile that makes your heart flutter. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Oh, you belong to me...

The final notes of the song fade into silence, but neither of you moves. You remain in each other’s arms, swaying to a rhythm only the two of you can hear. It’s a moment of pure, unadulterated connection—one that feels like it could last forever.

Steve presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as if sealing the vow he’s just made. “I love you,” he whispers against your skin, the words soft but full of conviction. 

Your breath hitches at the confession, and you feel the last of your defenses crumble. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, your heart pounding against his as you finally allow yourself to speak the words you’ve been holding back for so long.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but full of truth. 

Steve’s eyes light up at your words, the relief and happiness that wash over his face making your heart swell with emotion. He cups your face in his hands, his touch tender as if you’re something fragile and precious. He looks at you like you’re the only person in the world, his eyes tracing every feature of your face as if committing this moment to memory.

Steve’s smile is soft and full of love, his thumbs brushing away the tears that have gathered at the corners of your eyes. 

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your emotions start to lift. The years of distance, the pain of separation, it all seems to melt away in his arms. You don’t know what the future holds, but at this moment, you know that you’re ready to try.

When you open your eyes, Steve is still looking at you with that same unwavering love, and you can’t help but smile—a real, genuine smile that feels like the first in a long time.

He bows his head, giving you every chance to pull away, but you don’t . His fingers tightened on your  waist. You rose onto your toes to kiss him. He met you halfway, unable to contain his groan as he hauled you against him, lips finding yours in a kiss that is soft and slow. It’s like coming home, a feeling of rightness that you didn’t know you were missing until this very moment. 

The kiss deepens, his arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you against him as if he’s afraid to let you go. You kiss him back with the same fervor, pouring all your emotions into the connection—your love, your longing, your hope for what’s to come.

When you finally pull back, breathless and slightly dizzy, Steve rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a look of pure contentment on his face.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, his voice a mix of awe and gratitude.

“I know,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as if grounding yourself in the reality of this moment.

Steve opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours, and you can see the promise of a future there—a future that’s bright and filled with the kind of love that can withstand anything.

He doesn’t say anything more, just holds you close, swaying gently to the memory of the music that played. The world outside could be crumbling, but in his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and loved.

As you continue to sway together, you let yourself sink into the feeling, knowing that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

Because for the first time in a long time, you’re not just Y/N, and he’s not just Steve. You’re you and him, together, just as it was always meant to be. And this time, you’re determined to hold on tight and never let go.

The day fades into night, the record continues to spin on the turntable, the needle caught in the loop of silence, but it doesn’t matter. The only sound you need is the steady beat of his heart against yours, and the whispered words that pass between you, promises of a love that’s been rekindled and is ready to burn brighter than ever.

× × × ×

2 years later

The sky above is a pale blue, streaked with soft wisps of clouds, as the rhythmic sound of waves gently crashing on the shore fills the air. The late afternoon sun hangs low, casting a golden hue over the entire beach, warming the sand beneath your feet and making the water sparkle like diamonds. The beach is quiet, save for the occasional call of seagulls and the laughter that bubbles up between the three of you.

Steve stands a little distance away, his feet sinking into the soft sand, his arms stretched out with an encouraging smile on his face. The wind tousled his hair, and there’s a light in his eyes that speaks of pure joy—something you’ve both learned to treasure over the past few years. 

You’re on the other side of the beach, standing behind your 12-month-old son, who wobbles slightly on his unsteady legs, holding onto your fingers for balance. His tiny toes curl in the warm sand, and you can feel the soft tremble of excitement coursing through him. He’s learning, taking his first independent steps, and the world ahead seems so vast and new.

Steve crouches down, his voice warm and filled with love as he gently calls out, “Come on, Zac. You can do it. Walk to Daddy.”

The baby giggles, his joyful laughter filling the air like music. His wide eyes are bright with curiosity and delight as he looks from you to Steve. With your gentle guidance, he lets go of your fingers, standing shakily on his own for a moment before his legs take their first wobbly steps forward. The tiny footprints he leaves behind in the sand are scattered, small, and sweet—each one next to the larger, steady prints that mark your path.

Steve’s encouraging words fill the space between you, his hands outstretched, waiting with uncontainable pride as your son inches closer, his baby steps unsteady but determined. “That’s it, buddy. You’ve got this!”

Another burst of laughter escapes the little one as he toddles forward, his arms swinging with each step, and the beach feels alive with the shared joy. The warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze, and the soft sand beneath your feet make this moment feel endless, a perfect snapshot of happiness.

When your son stumbles, landing softly on his bottom, he lets out a surprised squeal before bursting into laughter, as if falling is the funniest thing in the world. You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of his unbridled happiness.

Steve chuckles, walking over to scoop him up into his arms, his own footprints mingling with yours and the tiny ones left behind by your son. 

“You did great, buddy,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Look at how far you went!”

The baby babbles happily, reaching up to tug at Steve’s hair with a bright, toothy grin, his cheeks flushed pink from the excitement and the warm breeze. You step closer, watching the two of them with a fond smile, your heart overflowing with love.

Steve’s gaze shifts from the tiny, joyful bundle in his arms to you as you walk toward him, the soft sand shifting beneath your feet. His smile grows, gentle and full of love, as he watches you approach, the golden light of the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow around you. There’s a quiet admiration in his eyes, a look that speaks of everything he feels but doesn’t need to say.

As you reach them, Steve cradles your son in one arm, his other hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch is soft, tender, and his eyes linger on yours for a moment before they drop back to the baby, who is still babbling in Steve’s arms.

“You two are my whole world,” Steve says quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He pulls you both closer, and for a moment, everything feels perfectly aligned—the sound of the waves, the warmth of the sun, and the three of you standing together in the sand, surrounded by nothing but love.

× × × ×

BUCKY'S THEREABOUTS : UNTITLED SEQUEL TO LAZARUS SERUM 

(3 months after disappearing)

As he neared the farm, he heard raised voices cutting through the calm. Bucky slowed his steps, his instincts kicking in. Y/N was standing near the barn, facing off with a man—a tall, well-dressed figure, clearly angry. Bucky hung back, observing the heated exchange.

The man’s voice was loud, sharp with frustration. “I’m done with this place, Y/N. I’m not sticking around for another second.”

Y/N’s posture was stiff, her arms crossed defensively, but Bucky could see the hurt behind her steady gaze. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

The man threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t owe you anything. I’ve wasted enough time here, pretending this farm and you meant something to me.”

The words hit hard, Bucky could tell, but Y/N didn’t flinch. She stood her ground, even as the man turned and stormed toward the road, where Bucky stood in silence.

“Move,” the man barked, shoving Bucky’s shoulder in a fit of anger as he passed.

Bucky didn’t move an inch.

The man paused, his face twisting with irritation as he sized Bucky up. He shoved again, this time harder, as if expecting a reaction—something he could work with. Still, Bucky didn’t flinch, his body rigid, his eyes locked onto the man with a cold, steely glare. 

Don’t, Bucky told himself, his fists tightening at his sides. The Winter Soldier instincts flared instantly, sharp and reflexive, urging him to retaliate. To end this man’s feeble attempt at intimidation with one swift move. He could do it. He could make him crumble, and the urge to let that side of himself out—to let the man feel just how much danger he was in—was strong.

But something stopped him.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to Y/N, standing a few feet away, watching. Her expression was unreadable, but she was watching him. Waiting to see what he would do. He could feel her presence like a weight on his chest, grounding him. Reminding him that this wasn’t about him. This wasn’t a fight he needed to win.

Slowly, Bucky released the tension in his fists, his knuckles relaxing as he forced the cold, calculating side of himself to retreat. He blinked, his eyes softening just enough to pull back from that edge. This wasn’t worth it. The man wasn’t worth it.

“What the hell is your problem?” the man spat, taking a step back. His face reddened as he realized Bucky wasn’t intimidated—wasn’t even acknowledging his threats.

Bucky said nothing. He didn’t need to. 

Embarrassed, the man shot a glance back at Y/N. “So that’s it, huh? You already found yourself a new man? Was this the plan all along? You throw me away, and you’ve got this—this guy waiting in the wings?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No, it’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the strain of his embarrassment. “I should’ve known! You were just waiting for me to leave so you could run to someone else.”

Y/N stepped forward, anger now coloring her words. “You’re the one walking away. Don’t blame me for your insecurities.”

The man sneered, glancing back at Bucky with a bitter laugh. “Good luck with him. Hope he’s everything you wanted.”

Without waiting for a response, the man sped down the road in his car, disappearing around the bend. Bucky watched him go, his expression unreadable, before finally turning his attention to Y/N.

She stood frozen for a moment, her arms still crossed, her face flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation. When she met Bucky’s eyes, she sighed, her tough exterior softening just a little.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said quietly, though there was no real anger in her voice.

Bucky shrugged, keeping his gaze steady. “Didn’t do anything.”

Y/N gave a small, tired laugh, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, well… thanks for not doing anything, I guess.”

There was a beat of silence between them before Bucky spoke again, his voice low but certain. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitated, then nodded. “I will be.”

Bucky didn’t push her for more, but something in her eyes told him this wasn’t the first time she’d been left to deal with someone else’s mess. He glanced down the road where her ex had disappeared, then back at her.

× × × ×

Later that evening, the farmhouse was warm with the smell of roasted chicken and vegetables. Bucky sat at the kitchen table, his eyes observing the space while Y/N finished setting out plates. It was a simple, cozy setup, but it had been a long time since Bucky had felt comfortable enough to sit down and share a meal with someone.

Y/N placed the last dish on the table and took her seat across from him. She glanced at him for a moment, studying his calm demeanor before digging into her food.

“Figured you earned this after all your help today,” she said with a small smile. “Didn’t think you’d stick around.”

Bucky shrugged slightly, his voice low as he spoke. “Didn’t see a reason to leave.”

They ate quietly for a few minutes, the clatter of forks on plates the only sound between them. Y/N glanced up at him again, noticing how quiet he was, his face always unreadable, as though there was a world behind his eyes that he kept hidden. 

She took a sip of her drink and finally broke the silence. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

Bucky paused, meeting her eyes for a moment before looking back down at his plate. “Not much to say.”

Y/N chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re an odd one, James. Most people who come through here have plenty to say, but not you.”

Bucky looked at her, his expression neutral but with a hint of curiosity. “That a bad thing?”

She shrugged, smiling as she stabbed at a piece of chicken. “Nah. I don’t mind. Just not used to the silence, I guess. But… it’s kind of nice.”

He gave her a small nod, appreciating the fact that she didn’t push for more. The conversation lulled again, comfortable and easy. It was rare for Bucky to find himself in a situation like this—quiet, but not tense. Peaceful, almost.

“So, how’s Seamus treating you?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence once again.

Bucky’s lips tugged into a faint smile. “Seamus is fine. Grumpy, but fine.”

Y/N laughed lightly, the sound filling the kitchen. “That’s his charm. He’s stubborn, but once he likes you, you’re stuck with him.”

Bucky nodded, the ghost of a smile lingering on his face. “Sounds familiar.” referring to himself.

They continued eating, talking about the day’s work and the rhythm of life on the farm. As the last bit of food disappeared from their plates, Bucky stood up and gathered the dishes without saying a word, walking over to the sink. 

Y/N watched him for a moment, her eyebrow raised. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”

Bucky just shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

Y/N stood up, grabbing a towel as she moved to his side. “Alright, but if you’re washing, I’m drying.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, Bucky washing the dishes with a quiet efficiency while Y/N wiped them dry and placed them back in the cabinets. Every so often, she glanced at him, still curious about the quiet man who seemed to carry so much on his shoulders.

“You know,” she said, breaking the silence, “there’s something calming about all this quiet. Feels... different.”

Bucky didn’t look up, but there was a softness in his voice when he finally responded. “Different’s not always bad.”

Y/N smiled at that, feeling a strange sense of connection in the simplicity of their shared silence. As they finished the last dish, Y/N leaned against the counter, towel slung over her shoulder. “You’re a good guy, James. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

Bucky looked at her then, his eyes shadowed with something deeper, something unspoken. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I’m. . . trying.”

She nodded, not pushing for more, and turned to head back to the table. “Same time tomorrow?”

Bucky gave her a small nod. “Yeah. Same time.”

As he made his way toward the door, Y/N called after him, her voice softer. “Goodnight, James.”

Bucky paused, turning back to meet her eyes one last time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

With that, he slipped outside into the cool evening air, the door closing softly behind him.

[doodle-pops]

House of Feanor | A Maia Reader is Interested in Them (Pre-Darkening)

Request: Hey Mina! If you’re ok with it, could you write your headcanons for the house of Feanor having a Maiar interested in them romantically? Pre or Post darkening is fine, whichever is most interesting to you. I know canonically it’s basically unheard of for a Maia to marry an Elf but I think about it frequently because the Ainur fascinate me 💀 - Anon

A/N: I wanted to do post-darkening, but then I realised how angsty I would have made that, so I bailed, plus I was in the mood for fluff. Enjoy!!

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Feanor

Feanor being the ever so passionate and intriguing figure is more interested in you than you are in him. Furthermore, it wasn’t shocking for him when he discovered that a Maia was interested in him.

He’s literally spending all his time in Aule’s forges, what else to expect? His presence would have you hooked from the very start. The charm, the charisma, his voice, features, everything about him.

The only thing you and he would clash on numerous occasions for, is your love and appreciation towards the Valar, considering them beings who can do no wrong, and his pride and impulsiveness.

Apart from that, you and Feanor spend hours engaging in deep, philosophical discussions about the nature of the world and the secrets of creation. You would even extend your knowledge in creating towards his crafting.

The one thing you would constantly have to put up with (just like Nerdanel) is his fiery temper and hatred towards the rest of his family and Indis. You will forever have to temper his harshness and vocalisation, but also prepare yourself for being shown off and rubbed in his brothers’ faces.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Maedhros

When the both of you are together, walking about and basking in the joys of each other’s presence, no one can tell the difference between who is elf and Maia. You both appear as two Maiar due to the ethereal beauty and grace you exert.

He does find solace in your calm and serene presence, given his elder brother’s duties being too much at times and dwelling in a noisy household. With you, he is able to drop his guard and be himself without the need to be on edge.

Most of the time, you spend moments getting to know each other better and explore the realms of emotion and touch since it may be uncommon for you. Maedhros finds joy in teach you how to hold hands or fingers and express your elation, the same way you teach him.

At the same time, you would offer him knowledge, support, and guidance on taking the role of being a leader and role model to his younger brothers. Though, it would take a copious amount of time before you ever get introduced to his family.

He finds your ethereal and otherworldly presence not worth being among his family yet, wants to be a bit selfish and have you to himself for the great part of learning you. Plus, he knows it will be a huge talk around Valinor and his father would talk everyone’s ear off.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Maglor

It would only be fair that you and Maglor became interested in one another due to your common love for the arts, your poetry or storytelling and the music. The perfect duo, matchmade in heaven Valinor.

You have been interested in hearing his voice up close and in person which triggered a plethora of emotions, urging you to pursue the minstrel. And now, you both spend your time singing tales and writing stories in your free time, teaching him how to incorporate more magic into his songs.

Being around him means being his inspiration in his art and encouraging him to express his deepest emotions. His household has never known peace since the day you met him and became a frequent visitor.

Maglor holds a deep respect for you as his muse and person of interest, though, he can be partially nervous around you because of your differences and the breath-taking voice you emit which surpasses him. You got a little grumbly Maglor sulking in a corner.

At the same time, he is proud to call you his and dies on the inside with you call him yours. Due to your interactions with him, you are quickly able to navigate emotional and physical intimacy with him, smoothly transitioning into your relationship.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Celegorm

He’s loud and hollering that a Maia is interested in him. “Like have you not seen me? I’m the hottest thing since the light of the two trees. Of course they’d fall for someone with irresistible charm like me.”

Seriously, Tyelko is smug at the realisation that he managed to not only be an apprentice of a Vala and have a Maia as an animal companion, but also managed to impress one to have them like him.

It’s hard for him to shut up about how ecstatic he is about you liking him and wanting to be with him. Most of the time you and Tyelko would be alone, which means Huan would also depart, so he can impress you with his charm and knowledge while he takes you on hunts.

This doesn’t mean that he’s going ignore the fact that you are more intelligent than him. Tyelko will drink up every word that pours from your lips like sweet nectar. He will value all the lessons you give him and all the magic you teach him.

At the same time, be prepared to hear him complain about you and Huan always spending time together and ignoring him because he forgets that Huan and you are similar.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Caranthir

Initially, he is aloof before he slowly opens up to your patient and understands the nature of wanting to get to know him better. Moryo is stunned that you managed to notice him among the crowd of six other brothers, thus it makes him more appreciative.

With his desire for peace and tranquillity, he would easily find himself in your presence more often than he expected as time graduates. It’s quite an adorable sight to witness you and Moryo navigating with expressing your emotions.

He is grateful your for peaceful presence being about stability due to his love for quiet support. Most of your time spent will be away from his home and more among nature where he can observe you in your element, likewise the same with him.

With his love for fabrics, he would love when you show your interest by accompanying him to shop or gathering unique patterned clothes for him to work with, even expressing an interest to learn.

The most you would have to deal with are his quick outbursts when displeasure kicks in. As a Maia, you would have seen the Valar distraught before, but witnessing it with someone you were interested in brought new waves of emotions. At least you were gentle to guide him to relief.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Curufin

You’re probably a Maia of crafts or one that surrounds the elements of this world capable of being moulding into tangible objects. Hence your fascination with Curufin the moment you laid eyes on him.

Like his father, he too is fascinated by the nature of you and your knowledge of lore and craft, seeing a potential ally in his pursuits. Your presence would be of great assistance when it comes to offering insights that would enhance his skills.

Many occasions you two can be found working together on projects as you continue to learn more about each other. And you would come to realise that when engrossed in his craft, you can barely squeeze a response out of him.

He too, has his cold temperament that you would come face to face with on numerous occasions, as well as his ruthless ambitions, which would require you to guide him towards a more balanced goal.

One thing to note is his pride when it comes towards your interest in him; he takes it seriously and prays that what you two have develops into something more. It’s not often he opens up to people, so you coming along like the sunshine in his life is something he would cherish, silently.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Amrod and Amras

Let’s say you’re a Maia of adventure, one whose spirit is wild and yearns for tales of far-off places. Amrod and Amras are going to love your presence more than ever, each tailing behind you with eyes and hearts yearning for more.

Together, you and Amrod or Amras would embark on adventures across Valinor into the deep woods and over the mountains, under the hills and around the river bends, telling tales as you go, and teaching them magic tricks (which makes their pranks all the more daring).

Whichever of the twins you are dating, you still get the opportunity to teach them about independence and being their individual, helping them find their identity and take a stand against those who only view them as the same.

There will be lots of fun and playful moments shared between the two of you, while they teach you how to be mischievous so you can play pranks on your fellow Maiar when you return to your sanctuary.

All your time spent around Amrod or Amras will be filled with experiences and endless days of learning new forms of fun. Your relationship will be as though you are two peas in a pod.

˖ ࣪ . ࿐♡˚. Celebrimbor

Like his father and grandfather (because let’s pretend that another Maia wasn’t also interested in him) Tyelpe would be profoundly grateful to learn that a Maia was interested in him and his craftsmanship, wanting to teach and learn alongside him.

You both would spend hours and even days locked up in the forge tinkering to create new majestic pieces of art (please don’t go making the Silmarils 2.0 or the rings, enough people died for those). Plus, you would have the opportunity to bless the objects.

He is deeply grateful that such a divine entity like you would find great interest in him and is willing to openly spend time with him, apart from crafting, to get to know him better. He probably died and was reborn in that moment.

You will be a massive foundation in his life, driving him to pursues his passions and dreams, providing support and respect. Though, as much as you’re a rock in his life, he would probably hide you from his father, wanting to silently be with you.

During those moment, your vast knowledge would be shared and generously absorbed like a sponge because Tyelpe isn’t missing the free opportunity to learn about the world before and around him.

Masterlist

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[sourholland]

based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → part two!! how this played out was debated for awhile honestly. i hope you guys enjoy and start to understand a little more of the dynamic we’re looking at here. as always, feedback is heavily heavily appreciated and let’s me know you want more. let me know to be added to the taglist! ALSO - a lot of people who commented on part 1 to be added to the taglist don’t have it turned on in settings where i’m able to tag them, so i couldn’t. i won’t be going back through several parts to find your @ so you’ll need to fix it and comment again if you want to be on the taglist in the future.

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → alcohol use, strong language, nsfw content

word count → 3.3k

remember to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

Ever since the spontaneous car hookup earlier in the week, things had been a sort of comfortably complicated. Joe had driven you to pick up your car, half hard watching your legs cross so delicately as if he hadn’t just ripped your panties off in the backseat. It was more than a turn on for him.

It was a still silence all the way back to the practice facility. He kissed your cheek and told you to have a goodnight, then you grabbed your cheer bag and had gone home. Joe waited to see if he’d hear from you, wanting to see where you stood on the matter before he pushed his way into your space. He was giving you an out if you wanted it.

You wanted to want it.

It was so wrong. You were breaking the biggest rule imposed on you. Yet, you couldn’t. So you didn’t. It took until mid-afternoon the next day when you texted him to get his actual phone number, the texting exclusively through instagram private message felt a little middle school. He happily obliged, not wanting to pressure you into anything.

The conversation was casual, nothing pertaining to the subject of you fucking in the backseat of his Porsche. The only discussion of that was via Venmo, when he sent you money for a Plan B without question. You hadn’t even requested the money, he just let you know through the transaction that he didn’t want to act entitled to knowing if you were on contraception.

He didn’t know why he was so enamored by you. Joe had a very fuck boy-ish college career, he’d done his fair share of sleeping around and having women throw themselves at him. Some would say this has given him a big ego, he partially agreed. It was never about the hookup culture, though. It was more so just what he thought was right for a college athlete, it was what all his friends had done. He’d broken some hearts, for that he wasn’t proud. It was a time in his life that he was focused on two things: football and partying.

It was pretty obvious that you were the opposite to him. He had done a little social media stalking to find out a little more about the so-called rookie Ben-Gal. Just through instagram he saw that you were a very spirited girl during high school, it seemed like you had a serious boyfriend through most of those four years. He sort of disappeared when you came to the University of Cincinnati.

He wondered if he was your first love. Joe hadn’t ever been able to recall a first love for himself. There had been plenty of girls, he just didn’t ever feel like it was love.

He saw that you had maintained the good girl persona through college too. He was shocked that you’d never joined a sorority. Joe came to realize that you really were just a dedicated student athlete through and through. How you ended up as a Bengals cheerleader? He wasn’t sure.

Joe: What’re you up to tonight?

He typed the message out without thinking much of it, it’d been days since you’d last been together. He hadn’t pushed anything since the car incident. He hung back after practice and watched you rehearse the dance choreography for the preseason that would begin in a few days.

Y/N: Not sure yet

Y/N: Why?

He didn’t really know why. Joe wasn’t so selfish that he wanted to get you in trouble for hanging around him. He just wanted to see you.

Joe: I want to see you.

This was a surprise to you. Not that Joe seemed like the type to sleep with a girl and ghost, but he did kind of seem like the type of guy to do that. He was so charming, though. Everything he said to you sent your stomach into somersaults.

Y/N: Do you?

Joe: I really do

Joe: How do you feel about dive bars?

Y/N: LMAOO

When he didn’t respond to that, you realized he wasn’t kidding when he asked you that. Without thinking much, you laughed and began to type again.

Y/N: Oh shit, you’re serious

Y/N: Can’t say I’m very familiar with the scene lol

Joe: Really?

Y/N: I mean, I just turned 21, I don’t really go to frat parties at school. I really only drink with friends. Haven’t been to many bars.

Joe: Fair enough. I know a spot outside of Cincinnati. It’s pretty small, usually pretty deserted. The crowd is older.

This made you nervous, being in public and easily spotted with Joe made you nervous. It wasn’t the fact that anyone would know who you were, being an NFL cheerleader didn’t make you a celebrity. It was more so the possibility of someone snapping a picture of Joe with you in it, Joe is a celebrity and he’s extremely recognizable.

Y/N: Joe, I really don’t want all this to get back to my coaches. It only takes one person to fuck this all up for me before the season even starts..

Joe: I get that. I’m telling you, nobody here is going to be a problem.

-

In between finishing up your hair and adding a red lip tint, you heard a knock on your apartment door. That would definitely be Joe. He’d insisted on coming up to grab you when picking you up, something about being raised decent.

You’d slipped into a navy blue miniskirt and white ribbed tank top. It seemed like the simplest thing for going out to a hole-in-the-wall bar.

“You’re punctual,” you laughed as you opened the door to reveal Joe in a pair of khakis and t-shirt.

“You look,” Joe began, scanning your figure. “I mean you look really great, Y/N.”

He couldn’t help but think about your reddened lips. He didn’t know where the both of you stood on a lot of things, this made him hold back some of what he wished to say.

“Thank you,” your face flushed at his comments.

Both of you just kinda stood there in the doorway for a moment, grinning like high schoolers after their first kiss. Joe’s cheeks were pink, his hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you retrieve your clutch. His eyes fell to the way your ass looked in that skirt on more than one occasion, or more specifically what it would look like out of that skirt.

“Ready?” You asked.

Joe nodded and you headed down to the complex’s garage. It was a comfortable walk, filled with you having the inability to tear your gaze from his toned arms and back. He definitely noticed you staring, grinning each time he caught you from the corner of his eye.

He opened the passenger side door for you, walking around and getting in himself. He looked so fucking good. There was just something about an attractive guy driving, but Joe took it to a whole different level. He pushed his hand through his hair and backed out seamlessly.

Some A$AP Rocky song was playing in the background as you looked out the window at the lit up city. Joe drummed along the steering wheel. It was obvious every time he attempted to slyly glance at the skirt riding up your thighs.

“How do you think this game in a few days will go?” You said softly.

“Hard to say,” Joe replied. “It’s preseason, so technically it doesn’t matter. To the team it matters, though. Losing these early games give guys like Skip Bayless a reason to rip us apart before the season even starts.”

“You listen to stuff like that?”

“It’s hard not to, they practically shove it down our throats the entire season. Last season was tough, not winning the Super Bowl.”

“You made it, though,” you said. “Counts for something.”

He looked at you, smiling softly and glancing at your lips briefly. Once his eyes were back on the road, you took the opportunity to brush a hand over his arm. He let a deep breath out, chuckling a little. The tension was thick, both of you tiptoeing around the fact that you wanted so desperately to rip the other’s clothes off.

He let you touch him, obviously enjoying it. Maybe he wanted to see how far you’d take it, maybe you wanted to see how far you’d take it. Letting your hand fall to his thigh, you used your thumb to brush over the fabric softly. His breathing became a bit unsteady, eyes flickering to you every few seconds.

When you inched closer to his erection, you gave him a look as if to ask for permission. He nodded, groaning soon after you began to palm him through his pants. He was hard, aching for anything you would give him. You felt yourself heating up, surprised by your own actions when you began to undo the button on his pants, unzipping them and assisting in pulling them down ever so slightly.

He was still driving, eyes very focused on the road now. You let yourself begin to palm him through his briefs now, watching him yearn for your touch more and more.

Joe was driving down a long stretch, the road was deserted and only occupied by him as far as he could see. High beams on, he wondered if he should pull over and fuck you then and there. Or maybe he should see where you were going with this.

“Is this okay?” You asked him, looking up.

“Yeah, more than okay,” he breathed out.

Pulling down his briefs, you tried to maneuver your body into a comfortable position. He was hard in your hand, precum gleaming at the tip. As you let yourself take him in your mouth, he let out a guttural moan. With one hand on the wheel, another found the back of your head and weaved its way into your hair.

This was definitely unsafe.

With your knees bent towards him, your ass was in the air as he started to steadily pace you. He thrusted into your mouth, telling you not to stop. Using your tongue to your advantage, you used your hand to pump where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl, fuck,” he praised you. “Just like that, I really don’t want to crash this car.”

Trying to push him to the back of your throat, you made sure to take it slow. While this was incredibly hot and sexy, Joe was right. One wrong move, he’s crashing you both into a tree.

Letting yourself release him from your mouth, you used your saliva as a lubricant and pumped your hand over top of his shaft. He was breathing hard, letting you gain composure before your mouth was on him again. He couldn’t take it, the way you swirled your tongue to hit every single nerve. It was only when he began to enter the small downtown area that he realized he’d have to forfeit this without finishing.

Pulling up, you wiped your chin and helped him to get his pants done up. This was a space with a decent number of other cars and stoplights. Last thing either of you needed was someone snapping a picture of Joe receiving a blowjob at a red light or something.

You both laughed a little, Joe still very worked up and giving you the side eye. Pulling down the sun visor, you looking into the tiny mirror and realized your red lip had become all smudged. You went into your clutch and grabbed the tint stick out, applying it evenly.

This only turned Joe on more, watching you as he drove down the tiny street. There seemed to be a lot of brick buildings, some people out and about. It was late, though. He pulled into a small side lot, saying this was it.

Stepping out of the car was a breath of fresh air, it had been very hot and sticky after you decided to blow him. Joe adjusted himself, rolling his eyes when you smirked at him. He held a hand out to you, making your cheeks heat up ever so slightly. Then he pulled you down some cellar like set of steps, pushing a heavy green door open to reveal a dimly lit bar. It was a room of purple hues, lights strung up with music playing. There were a few older people, like three or four. All of the bar seats were empty.

“Come sit,” Joe brought you over.

The bartender was easily seventy, she had red hair that was pulled back tightly and an apron tied to her waist. She smiled at you, the tag on her shirt read ‘Jenny’.

“What can I get you tonight?” She asked, looking at the two of you.

“I’ll have a Blue Moon,” he told her.

“I’ll just have a vodka tonic.”

The woman didn’t ask for any ID, she just nodded and smiled. Joe glanced at you, looking around the space and chuckling. You leaned against the bar, taking a sip of your drink as she placed it down. Joe followed suit, talking to you mindlessly about practice.

“Oh my god, it’s Maggie May!” You said over the music, eyes wide when you grabbed Joe and pulled him to the empty space at the middle of the bar.

“What’re you doing?” He laughed.

“We’re dancing!” You smiled, letting him take you by the waist.

He was laughing as you swayed around, spinning in his arms and singing the lyrics as if you were performing them for him. He eventually gained the courage to take your hands and go back and forth a little. The few people occupying the bar watched and whistled, clearly not used to the display.

Taking you in his arms, Joe kissed you sweetly. Watching as you gallivanted him around a little, trying very hard to spin him yourself. Didn’t work very easily when your dance partner was 6’4.

“Oh Maggie I couldn’t have tried anymore! You led me away from home, ‘cause you didn’t want to be alone! You stole my heart, I couldn’t leave you if I tried,” you sang the 70s ballad at him with a large smile.

“You’re beautiful!” He told you over the music.

You both swayed for a moment or so, flustered and laughing at yourselves. Once the song ended, the three or four people watching chuckled with you. Talking about how they remembered when that song had come out.

When you returned to you seats at the bar, you both drank for awhile and made small talk about life. Joe brushed a piece of hair that had fallen in your face back, making you smile and lean in to press a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I like hanging out with you,” you confessed.

It felt like such a small statement, something a sixteen year old would utter to her crush. It was how you felt, though. Joe lit up some suppressed youth within you, he made you feel like a young girl just coming into herself. He was older than you, more mature, well established. It made you question what he saw in you in the first place.

“I like hanging out with you too,” he said in almost a whisper. “I’ll be right back, I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”

Nodding, he walked to the back of the bar. He left his phone face up. His wallpaper was a photo of him and Ja’Marr Chase at the Super Bowl last season. It was sweet, they seemed very close.

A minute or so passed and his phone went off with two texts, one after the other. It felt disrespectful to glance and read them, but anyone would’ve. He left his phone when he could’ve easily grabbed it.

Ava: Missing you.

Ava: Come over?

There was a sudden lurching in your stomach, like you were going to be sick or something. The feeling lasted for a few seconds, leaving you to pull out your own phone and open the Uber app.

“How much was the tab?” You asked the woman, handing her your card and signing all within the span of about a minute.

“You alright, honey?” She asked, watching you grab your clutch to leave.

No.

“Yes, I’m alright.”

Walking out the same way you came in was easy enough, the Uber would be a few minutes so you’d have to wait outside. You were angry, of course, but more so just hurt and upset over the fact that you thought he was actually interested in you.

This was your fault. Your own naive stupidity. This was a twenty five year old NFL quarterback, what the fuck would he want with you? Sex, clearly. That much was obvious. In the end, Joe wasn’t your boyfriend. Not at all, not even a little bit. He was some guy who you barely knew, some guy you’d maybe even misjudged a little bit.

Leaning against the brick of the building, you felt the tears begin to well up. How could you be so fucking stupid?

“Y/N?” Joe came up the steps. “What’s wrong? What’re you doing?”

“Fuck you, Joe,” you sighed into your hands. “I mean seriously, what the fuck do you get out of stringing me along while you’ve already clearly got a girlfriend or a fuck buddy at least!”

He looked confused, a line forming between his eyebrows when suddenly realization washed over him. He got sort of pale all of sudden, embarrassment flushing his face.

“Y/N, it’s not like that. I promise you, it’s not like that with her. There’s more to the situation—”

“Go to hell, Joe,” you sniffled. “Or better, go see Ava. She misses you.”

He stood there silent for a moment, unable to find the words to express how sorry he was for how he made you feel. He could see through the yellow hue of the streetlight that you were crying. His fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm, cursing himself for not bringing his phone into the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re sorry I saw,” you spit back. “Get the fuck away from me, Joe. I’m taking an Uber home.”

“Let me drive you home, at least. If you never want to speak to me again after that, okay. Just let me take you home.”

When you said nothing, he knew that was it. He’d have to accept defeat there. Anything he said would make it worse, seeing as there really wasn’t a way to make the situation better. There was no excuse, no way to make you see his point of view.

The silence between you was hard and rigid, the only sound being the ambiance of the outside and your occasional sniffling. The worst part was that he’d led you to believe he liked you. That was why it hurt so badly.

The sleek black SUV pulled up and you pushed off the wall you’d been leaning against. Not being able to bear giving Joe a second glance, you went straight to opening the door and hopping inside.

Joe didn’t try and stop you. It wasn’t his place. He only stood there under the streetlight, watching the car drive off and eventually disappear. He felt horrible, running a hand through his hair and walking towards the brick you’d just leaned against. Pressing his forehead to the cold structure, he tried to bring himself to some conclusion.

“Fuck,” was all he muttered.

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let me know to be added to the taglist

[hyunverse]

hiiiiiii eren baby HAPPY 5K AGAIN 💖💖💖💖💖💖 you deserve itttt!!!!!! i was thinking of my ideal date while walking home today TO TELL U UR EVENT HAS BEEN ON MY MIND… anyway, it deffo involves going to a museum because talking about the art works and interpreting them with someone is the most fun and it tells you a lot about how they think.. then, a stroll by the beach while eating ice cream is always nice (and romantic 😁) then sushi!!!! always my fav food, just a really chill date that allows deep convos to flow nicely hehe have funnnn with this!!! i love U congrats again <333

— the cupid's heard your wish, your match is hwang hyunjin .ᐟ

note: hi sahar bae <33 YOU'RE SO SWEET THANK U T_T sending you so much love 💞

playlist...

baby i'm yours by arctic monkeys ・ sweet creature by harry styles ・ my kind of woman by mac demarco ・ i want to hold your hand by the beatles ・ moonlight by ariana grande ・ can't take my eyes off you by frankie valli

trope...

what if. What if. sahar what if i give u. nerd hyune. nerd x popular trope!!! hyunjin's like super surprised that the cool girl he's been admiring from afar likes art just like him and plans the best date ever <3

headcanons...

picture this. nerdy hyune who'd stare at you from afar, blushing everytime your eyes meet in a lecture.

at one point, he stirs up the courage to finally talk to you and he's pleasantly surprised that you like art like him too!!

once you start dating i feel like he'd bring you to see all the exhibitions he wants to see. hyunjin loves the way you'd stare at the artworks with sparks in your eyes, loves discussing about each piece with you.

lots of picnic dates too!!! count on him to bring you your favourite food.

omg trying to make homemade sushi with him would be funny too. ends up failing and y'all will just eat the ingredients.

can and will draw you all the time. a lot of the pages of his sketchbook has little sketches of you. he's an obsessive boyfriend tbh he'll make his entire personality about you.

the kind of boyfriend to bring you up in every conversation. oh my girlfriend taught me this, oh my girlfriend likes that brand, oh my girlfriend showed me this meme. all the time!!!

100% gushes about you to his friends. you'll meet changbin one day and he goes, "oh yeah how was the new cafe you tried out?" like hyunjin will tell his friends abt you so much that it's like his friends are now yours too.

you're forever his muse. whether it be the inspiration to his paintings or his songs, you're on his mind always.

[storiesofleftoverghosts]

dating RE2R!Leon Kennedy... and what Taylor Swift songs it would be like

pairings: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

warnings: just your typical canon violence mentioned, Leon's trauma is discussed.

requested?: nope!

word count: 2343

a/n: guys i'm sorry for being gone for so long! i said i was gonna post this on sunday but i have commitment issues. so yeah this is my take on Leon Kennedy. specifically RE2R!Leon. i want to do all eras (if you will) of Leon but i'm nervous that i'm gonna like...BUTCHER his character. so sorry if he's out of character or anything! also this is a long one so buckle up.

also if you're new to my blog then these are headcanons mixed with Taylor Swift inspired blurb type of thing at the end.

okay being honest y'all

dating Leon before and after Raccoon City are way two different experiences (because duh trauma and all that good shit)

so let's start with before Raccoon City

a common thing I see is that he's like a puppy dog which ok yeah

but I'd like to put my own spin on him ok?

anyway

even before Raccoon City, Leon is definitely traumatized from his family yknow…

being brutally murdered

which makes him hesitant to get into a relationship

but when he first meets you, he’s already absolutely smitten

I picture Leon to be a very awkward yet sweet lover

like sure he's had partners before you but I think you'd be the first person he sees a realistic future with

he doesn’t want to ruin anything with you

he may be a 21 year old man

but romance and being in love makes him feel/act like a blushing high school girl

what can he say? he's a hopeless romantic

he's the type to remember small anniversaries at the beginning of y'all dating

and makes somewhat of a big deal out of them

"happy 4 months babe! I got us dinner reservations at (your favorite restaurant) :)"

oh yeah he loves to use pet names

babe and honey are the names he uses the most

chivalry isn't dead when it comes to Leon

always holding doors for you

getting you "just because" flowers

definitely is the type of guy to wait for you to tie your shoe while everyone else is walking ahead

his love language receiving is physical touch and giving love language is words of affirmation

knows you can stand up for yourself but won't hesitate to put someone in their place for you

taking things super slow because he doesn't want to rush into things

didn't actually kiss you until the fifth date

and he asked for permission of course

holds your hand every time you guys go out together

his favorite types of dates would be walks through the park and picnics

it's cheesy sure but classic and he loves to hear you talk

also loves to make you laugh

one of his favorite sounds to exist

has tried to cook a romantic dinner for you once

but got distracted by how beautiful you are and almost burnt the place down

yes he almost died from embarrassment but eating take out and cuddling with you was worth it

mans is such a supportive boyfriend and your #1 fan

he loves to imagine your guys’ future together

when he gets into the police academy he's a bit worried about the relationship

but when he sees your eyes light up and the way you squeeze him once he tells you the news

he wants to laugh at himself for having doubts in the first place

dating while he was in the academy was tough but y'all made it work

was shocked when you agreed to come with him to Raccoon City

but happy nonetheless

wow! everything he's ever dreamed of is coming true

your guys relationship is stronger than ever and you both are on the path to success

what could go wrong??

...Raccoon City is what could go wrong.

so your relationship after the events of Raccoon City is... different

you weren't there with him during that unfortunate night in Raccoon City

he thanks God or whatever higher being for that

truthfully you were one of the things that got him through that fateful night

whenever it felt hopeless, he thought about your smile and the way your eyes crinkle when you do

that kept him going throughout the horrors he saw

also just the fact that he wanted to tell you “I love you” one last time

trying not to throw up when you hear about Raccoon City

not being able to get ahold of Leon was one of the worse things you'd ever been through

finally getting a hold of him and the both of you sobbing into the phone

"I thought you were gone and I was going to be alone-" "I would never leave you. Never in a million years."

when you finally see him, you give him a long hug

you were careful about touching his shoulder of course

he's not exactly the Leon you knew before

the light that used to sparkle in his eyes had been put out

but he still looks at you like you hung the moon in the sky

being there by his side during nightmares and calming him down

helping take care of his shoulder wound for a while

studying up on PTSD to understand him better

squeezing his hand when he gets that faraway look in his eyes

patience and understanding becoming your best friends

doesn't open up right away with what happened in Raccoon City

if/when he does, it's a loooong night of him slowly opening up and talking about it

and you of course listening

holding him and being gentle with him when he eventually breaks down

sometimes he lashes out at you when he's in that headspace

but he immediately apologizes after and that brings him out of it

constantly reassuring him about things

the date nights y'all have now consists of ordering take out and cuddling on the couch

binge watching cheesy sitcom series becomes another way of spending time together

it’s a way of trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy between you two

he feels bad about not being ready to go out in the world yet but again you reassure him it's okay

embarrassed that you take care of him because he thinks it should be the other way around

he was already protective of you before Raccoon City

but he becomes even more protective after

mans is like a guard dog okay?

he's not trying to be overbearing, he just wants to know where you're going out to incase something happens

reminiscing on his favorite memories with you before everything happened

having you by his side helps ground him when he feels a panic attack coming on

communication becomes more important than ever (even if it's the hardest thing he can do sometimes)

him thinking you deserve better than him

yet being so in love with you that the thought of losing you makes him physically ill

makes sure to tell you that he loves you at least once a day because that’s all he could think about during Raccoon City

no he doesn't tell you about how the government threatened yours and Sherry's lives if he didn't join

that isn’t your burden to shoulder

he tries to do his best with keeping certain details from you

mostly because it makes him sick to think about and he doesn’t want you to worry more

you're the last thing he has from his life before Raccoon City

he wouldn't dare dream of letting you go

can't imagine his life without you

Okay so this was a bit tricky for me! I personally think that Fearless (from Fearless (Taylor’s Version)) and The Great War (from Midnights) fit RE2R!Leon the best. For those who aren’t familiar with Taylor’s music, Fearless is about the start of a relationship and the fearlessness of falling in love. I think that it’s a happy and upbeat love song and perfectly fits RE2R!Leon before Raccoon City. The Great War is about a couple having a rough patch in their relationship, but promising each other they’ll stick together throughout it. Which if that doesn’t scream post Raccoon City Leon then I don’t know what does.

…

Leon may have physically survived that devastating night in Raccoon City, but mentally, huge pieces of who he was had died. No longer was he that bright eyed rookie ready to help change the world. Now he was an ex cop who got an unwanted promotion that only reminded him of the horrors he witnessed.

Hopelessness was something that hung in the back of his mind every day. His smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore. It had only been two months, but he was still constantly on his guard. Even when he attempted to get some sleep, he couldn’t allow himself to relax. Nightmares of what happened in Raccoon City had constantly plagued his dreams. Sometimes he swore he could hear that monster’s loud footsteps down the hallway in the shared apartment.

One of the only things that seemed to keep him pushing through the dark was his partner. Being around you helped calm his racing mind. You were like a warm blanket in the cold darkness his mind had been in the past month. No matter what, your hand was the thing he had constantly been reaching out for.

Small things would trigger unpleasant flashbacks which made his stomach turn. A week ago you had accidentally dropped a pan you were reaching for, and the loud bang sounded too much like a gunshot for comfort. One moment he was in his apartment and the next he was back in Raccoon City. He could smell the rotting flesh and hear the groans of the undead. His breathing had quickened, and he immediately got ready to defend himself from monsters that Guilt ate at you as you attempted to calm him down.

"Leon honey, it's okay. You're at home with me. You’re having a flashback." Your honey coated voice reminded him. This wasn’t the first time he had an episode and it wouldn’t be the last. After a few minutes of reminding him to describe his surroundings and breath, you finally managed to coax him out of that state of mind. It had become second nature for you to remind him that nothing from Raccoon City could get to him anymore. When he finally was able to calm down, he immediately reached for you. Tears had brimmed his eyes and seeing that broken look on his face crushed your heart. Why must good people like him go through the worst things?

The worse thing for Leon is when he would unintentionally lash out at you. He couldn't stop the venomous words that accidentally left his mouth. Punishing for things you never did left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Jesus Christ, just leave me alone for a moment!" He'd snapped the other day when it had been particularly hard to get out of bed. You had been asking him questions about how he was feeling, and if he needed anything. Just being a caring partner. God the look of hurt that had flashed upon your face was one he could never forget. Apologies had never escaped from him faster than that moment. It was like putting Band-Aids over bullet holes (no pun intended) and he knew that these outbursts of his weren’t fair to you.

You were an angel sent down from heaven, this was something he was sure of. Why did he have to keep flying off the handle over the smallest things? Realistically he knew that you were only human and made mistakes. He knew you were just trying to take care of him. Dark circles had begun to form under your eyes from the lack of sleep you had been getting. That was because of him and his night terrors. His heart ached for you, and he had never hated himself more for that.

Leon was so caught up in his thoughts about you and everything that he hadn’t noticed you enter the small living room. The first thing you had noticed was that faraway look in his eyes. You had called out his name before making your way to sit by him on the leather couch. Hearing your voice made him come back to earth, and his thoughts grew quiet once he saw you.

“Hey love. You alright?” Your voice was gentle as you reached for his hand. He hadn’t hesitated to grab it. Of course you knew he wasn’t okay. Leon usually wore his heart on his sleeve. Your thumb gingerly rubbed his knuckles as you waited for his response. Leon was hesitant to tell you everything he had been thinking. After an internal debate, he figured it’s the least he could do as your boyfriend.

“I’m…sorry for snapping at you the past couple of months.” He finally responded after a moment. You furrowed your eyebrows in response. As much as you had appreciated his apology, it felt like it came out of nowhere. What the hell had triggered this?

“I’m sorry about being the reason you haven’t slept well, and just sorry in general. You deserve better than me.” Words were overflowing from his mouth before he could stop it. He squeezed your hand as he continued. “I don’t know why I’ve been so… awful towards you and there’s just-“

“Leon stop.” You interrupted him. For a moment he seemed like his old self as he looked at her with those puppy dog eyes of his. “Look, I appreciate your apology. But you also just went through a traumatic experience. You’re not gonna just bounce back.”

Scooting closer, you wrapped your arms around his waist. Your head rested on his chest and you could hear his heartbeat. It was a soothing sound, reminding you that your boyfriend was alive and here in your arms. His arms fell into place on your back.

“I don’t care if you think I “deserve better”. You’re what I want, no matter what. I will always be yours.” Pulling yourself back, you cupped his cheeks into your hands. Hearing you vow your love to him like that made his heart flutter. Leaning forward, you planted a soft yet tender kiss on his lips.

Yes, Leon knew that there was no way in hell you guys could return back to the way your relationship was before. He wasn’t the same person as before, but he was slowly realizing you weren’t the same person either. In this moment with you, he knew you guys would survive this war zone inside his head.

He would make sure of it.

[musicalmoritz]

Funniest headcanons?

Okay wow I have so many crack headcanons so prepare yourself. Take every negative thing I’ve ever said abt fanon and throw it out the window, this is about to get so unserious

• Hanako is a fudanshi. This applies to the whole Toilet Gang (except Nene would be called a fujoshi), they’ve got a little book club. Hanako is the most insane about it tho

• Aoi and Akane are a himejoshi/himedanshi couple

• Lemon and Akane smoke weed together on a regular basis (throw back to the time I looked up “slang words for marijuana” for my Terukaneaoi fic and ended up sounding like Skyler White)

• I feel like an average conversation between the Toilet Gang is the most insufferable, out of pocket middle school humor you’ve ever heard in your life. Those four make South Park look like a kids show

• Akane has a random lock of Aoi’s hair on a shelf in his room

• Since the Minamoto father is absent and the mother is dead, Tiara just kind of assumes Teru and Akane are her parents. Instead of correcting her on this, Akane decides to be the dad who stepped up

• Akane is one of those filmbros who does NOT play abt Pulp Fiction (me) (that’s the second time I’ve mentioned that movie in relation to Akane today)

• He’s also the type to ask you to name three Nirvana songs if he catches you wearing one of their shirts and if you even so much as think about saying Smells Like Teen Spirit, he’ll shoot you in the head

• Hanako is lowkey mad Kou and Mitsuba started dating without him

• In the TBHK universe, Mei is the one who drew the Miku Binder Thomas Jefferson image

• Nene writes reader insert fan fiction

• She’s also a BookTok girlie (not one of the really bad ones, just cringy. As in she would unironically love the book boyfriend audio)

• Sakura is rly into disturbing movies and they make Natsuhiko watch them with them just to make him nauseous

• Hanako and Kou jokingly flirt with each other and it makes Mitsuba and Nene genuinely mad. Like Hanako can ruin Mitsuba’s day with a single “I can take your man”

• Yk that one image of Cheryl Blossom wearing an “I ❤️ Boys” shirt? Teru owns that shirt

• Akane is the type of dude to raise his hand during a class discussion and say “I’d like to play the Devil’s Advocate”

• Aoi flirts with waitresses very poorly and it gives Nene severe secondhand embarrassment

• Once a week, Natsuhiko challenges Teru to a fight. She loses every single time

• Nene has one of those traumatic hamster death stories

• Mitsuba’s hair is dyed so whenever he’s being particularly annoying, Tsukasa tells him his roots are showing

• Kou and Nene have had one of those awkward “I have a crush on someone🤭 And it’s someone you know veryyyy well👀” moments

• Sumire used to climb to the highest places she could find to get Hakubo’s attention, and it gave him a mini heart attack each time

• OG Mei had a fursona. It was a dragon

• Yk in Spongebob when Squidward was confirmed to be the most miserable person in all of the Bikini Bottom?? In the TBHK universe that’s Akane except it’s for all of Japan

• Teru has given the “I’m vengeance, I am the knight” speech while exorcizing supernaturals AT LEAST once

• The Minamotos frequently watch Cinderella together bcuz Tiara is obsessed with it, to the point that it’s become Teru and Kou’s favorite movie as well. Teru drags his friends to watch it with him too but Kou refuses to admit he likes it

• Kou chews with his mouth open

• Mitsuba has cheesy romantic fantasies about Kou the same way Nene does about her crushes (I credit this one to one of my TikTok mutuals @/mads)

• Natsuhiko has an ASMR account (just like they do in the Monster Nursery au)

• Tiara doesn’t quite understand the premise of being gay or coming out so every day she congratulates Kou on being bi

• Kou straight up lies to Tiara about things, it’s an older sibling canon event. Teru does the same to Kou. For example I once told my sister you could dilute chocolate milk into regular milk by pouring water in it. And she believed me.

• Despite the fact that Kou’s been friends with them for many years, Teru regularly forgets Yokoo and Satou’s names

• Aoi and Nene’s mothers have a bet on when the two of them will reveal they’re secretly dating

• Mei is one of those ppl who’s allergic to almost everything. You order a plate of shrimp beside her and before it even hits the table she’s like “Keep that FAR away from me”

• Kako was homophobic until meeting Akane. A “I don’t support that lifestyle” kind of homophobe. Before meeting Akane’s baseball bat

• It’s okay tho he supports his bisexual son now!! He goes to pride parades and everything

• Mirai braids Akane’s hair when she’s bored

• Tsuchigomori has never felt the touch of a man

• If you say one bad word about Teru around Kou, you better be prepared for a full monologue. Stan Twitter wishes they could be as dedicated as Kou (Yokoo: I want to kms / Kou: Wait until the next student council election we can’t lose votes)

• To avoid tarnishing her popular girl image by coming off as rude, whenever Aoi wants to leave a conversation with someone she doesn’t like she pretends to faint

• Mitsuba breaks up with Kou every other day

• When Aoi and Nene are having trouble communicating their feelings verbally, they find a wrestling ring and box their feelings out

• Aoi and Nene apply to every job together, they are a package deal

• Kou is the designated bug killer for the Toilet Gang

• Yako can talk to other foxes. But only foxes, no other animals so the power isn’t all that exciting

• Natsuhiko hasn’t picked up on Mitsuba being gay yet so he keeps offering to set him up with girls

• Sakura has been involved in at least (1) unethical psychology experiment in the past. They administered those shocks for Milgram with a completely straight face

• The hands in Mitsuba’s boundary reflect his feelings so every time Kou comes to visit, they jump around him like overexcited dogs

• Tsukasa had a very intense Alvin and the Chipmunks phase

Okay I have homework that’s due in like 2 hours so I’m gonna have to end it there. I hope my terrible sense of humor amused some of you

[lemons4u]

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧 ➜ 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

notes ! i wanted to write something sweet like this before i published pt 4 for the alhaitham thingy. also ayato’s part is really short bc i felt lazy

scaramouche ☆

this guy takes forever to realize he’s fallen in love with you.

like he’ll start to realize that your CONSTANTLY on his mind, and he’d be so annoyed. he despised you for constantly appearing in his mind. he thinks your wasting his precious time.

when he realizes that he’s actually in love with he is flustered asf. he doesn’t believe that he can love someone, not after all the pain he went through.

but here you were.

after months and months childe (his secret wingman) finally convinced him to confess to you.

and he’s straight up like that song that goes, “i’m gonna confess to you valentine’s day.” and it’s already a confession.

once you tell him it’s already a confession he is so flustered, like his whole face is flushed red and he tries avoiding you for the rest of the day.

he didn’t even give you the time to tell him you return those feelings, he already thinks you rejected him and he’s whining like a little girl in his room.

eventually though, childe forced you two in a room and you two are both are forced to confess 😭

it’s awkward but sweet.

all scaramouche really cared about was the fact that you actually loved him.

it made something in his chest feel tingly.

alhaitham ☆

he realizes it quickly, he starts to notice how he feels happy in your presence. he noticed how you make his heart do jumping jacks.

yeah he’s fallen for you.

at first he just simply puts it off as some stupid “crush” or whatever, but eventually he realizes his feelings are deeper than that.

he wants to be yours. and you to be his.

he wants to make you smile everyday.

so one day he pulled you aside to puspa’s cafe to chat. and at first you were scared, but you accepted.

when he confessed he said it in the most formal way possible, which made you almost laugh.

“[name]. i want to discuss an important topic with you.”

“i believe i have romantic feelings for you. i fully understand that you may not return them but please hear me out.”

literally smiled when you told him you also loved him.

you were a little shocked but you couldn’t help but you completely melted as soon as you saw him.

he didn’t even try to hide the fact he was happy.

cyno ☆

you kind of figured he liked you before he found out himself.

he made it a little obvious.

one. he was always clinging around you.

two. he literally could not stop telling you jokes and he was actually eager to talk to you. (as an introvert too)

three. he always got jealous whenever you hung out with kaveh or tighnari.

and if you were ever with alhaitham… he would straight up try to drag you away.

“no… [name], don’t talk to alhaitham. he’ll make you go crazy.”

low key kind of clingy but it was cute so you didn’t mind it.

secretly, you kind of also had a little bit of a crush on him… okay… a big one.

and soon those feelings developed into love, and you were sure cyno felt something for you too — but surely it was just a crush, nothing more. he couldn’t actually love you.

however, cyno was madly in love with you as well. and he was going to confess.

how exactly? a cheesy love letter.

yes he would definitely write a love letter, because he’s too embarrassed to tell you himself.

and this lover letter would contain the weirdest romance puns that made you cringe slightly.

it was fine though, the attempt was cute.

the next day you practically had to chase cyno down to tell him you felt the same. (he was just embarrassed guys, don’t make fun of him)

“y-you feel the same?”

very flustered.

ayato ☆

i feel like he’s really straight forward with his feelings, like he’s able to organize his thoughts REALLY well.

so it didn’t take long for him to realize he’s fallen in love with you.

and once he did find out he automatically started acting different, always coming to your aid right away.

he wanted to assist his love in any way possible.

of course, you noticed he was becoming a little protective so you grew curious, and you decided to ask about it.

“oh? it’s nothing really… i’m just in love with you.”

with this you became instantly flustered and he teased you to the point where you had to also confess your feelings.

“stupid bastard…” you muttered to yourself.

you couldn’t help but love him though.

[dreamcaught]

There have been so many of these posts, and what looks like an entire website pretty much dedicated to this topic, but nevertheless here I am adding to the mix.

Thoughts on Buffy Season 6, Sex and Seeing Red

This is long and only kind of edited. Content warning below.

CW: Discussions of abuse, addiction, and rape.

Let me just start out by saying: Spike is my favourite character in Buffy. I love him completely. He is contrary and interesting and if there is anything I would do to improve the show it would be to add more scenes with Spike. But, unlike a lot of Spike girlies – and especially many of my favourite fanon creators – I don’t think Spike is out-of-character in Seeing Red. There are some serious problems with it, but I think it’s an important scene.

My reason for saying this comes from the claim that Buffy and Willow are the main villains this season. Well, no, to be fair: in season 6, the main villains of the show are the internal villains within the characters, specifically Buffy and Willow, expressed through their actions of addiction and abuse. The Trio is a red herring Big Bad; they’re pretty much just there to provide laughs and move plot. They’re not like the Master, or Angelus, or Adam, or Glory – there isn’t ever a “gather the troops, we’ve got an apocalypse on our hands” attitude toward defeating them… because they’re just human people, making human mistakes and causing human havoc. (Much like how Buffy and Willow would be if they weren’t already saturated in the supernatural.)

Buffy and Willow’s stories run parallel in this season. They are both dealing with the aftermath of Buffy’s resurrection: Buffy is majorly depressed to the point that she feels essentially soulless, whereas Willow is guilty to such degree that the only way she knows how to cope with herself is through control and the overuse of magic.

Tangent about Sex Because That’s How I Roll:

Before we go further to discuss this, just, briefly, let’s take note that this show does not do justice to sex. In both cases, Buffy and Willow’s “addiction” is to, essentially, use sex like a drug to (sort of) feel, but more accurately numb themselves. Buffy’s use of Spike is blatant, but we must remember that Willow and Tara’s first prominent romantic/sexual connections were initially all linked to their use of magic.

It’s made clear that this idea of magic = sex between the two is continued even in season 6, as exemplified in the Once More with Feeling song Under Your Spell lines: “You make me complete,” which are cut off at the most deliciously appropriate time – and if you haven’t noticed that until I’ve pointed it out here, then well done, you!

Here there is a bit of a problem I have with the show’s messaging because it’s essentially saying that sex is bad. Tara asks Willow to stop using magic (yikes, imagine asking your lover to please stop sexing so much, babe, it’s bad for you) – and at the same time, in the parallel story, Buffy feels the need to hide her sexual tryst with Spike because it’s wrong to want to feel good.

I think it’s important to note that Buffy isn’t really upset about it being Spike, specifically. She makes a big deal of saying that he’s “everything she’s supposed to hate” and “soulless” and “evil,” but Buffy had every opportunity to have this affair with literally anyone else – in fact, she could have very easily gotten her rocks off with a different, random person every night, but chooses to use Spike. And here we can move back to the main points –

Miscommunication

Buffy and Spike’s relationship is abusive, but hardly for the reasons they make it appear on the show. At this point, Spike is a soulless demon. That he doesn’t just kill her as soon as he realizes that he can hurt her is a testament to how much he loves her, despite this. But, because he is a soulless demon, he does try to take advantage of Buffy’s attention to him by trying to convince her that she should be with him. He plays on her fears of being soulless/evil/demonic. Other than trying to persuade her to stay with him, this is the full extent of Spike’s abuse of Buffy.

At no point in their physical relationship does Spike ever abuse Buffy’s consent.

Between Spike and Buffy is a travesty of miscommunication. Need I say again: Spike is a soulless demon. From the moment he realizes his feelings toward Buffy, he is constantly trying to figure out what she needs from him, because he simply does not understand. (“What’s it take?”) He actively tries to learn what Buffy wants and how to respond to her desires. From their passionate kiss in Once More with Feeling: “The day you suss out what you do want, there'll probably be a parade,” to literally his last lines of the show, “No, you don’t,” Buffy and Spike’s communication is the worst!

And this is all Buffy’s fault, by the way! She absolutely, stubbornly, resolutely refuses to talk – to most people! It’s practically a miracle that Spike understands Buffy at all – and to that end, I truly, fully, completely believe that Spike is the best partner for Buffy, simply because he’s the only one who does.

Their first time together, Buffy is verbally telling him it’s never going to happen while at the same time ripping off his clothes. At nearly every encounter between them during their affair, Buffy says it will never happen again, it will be the last time, it was the worst thing ever. These are outright lies, and Spike learns through conditioning to see right through them. When she says “Stop,” he doesn’t have to stop – because that is not what she means. He learns through the complicated, complex, contrary Buffy Talk what she actually wants and then proceeds to give it to her.

Up to Seeing Red, Buffy’s consent has always sounded like: “No.”

Buffy the Villain

Buffy has chosen Spike as her lover because he already loves her. He is emotionally invested in their relationship. He takes care of her. (“I can get money.”) She can be herself with him. (“I can be alone with you here.”) She is safe with him. (“Dawn is safe with Spike, so I can stay as long as you need.”)

During their affair, Buffy takes everything that she’s feeling about herself out on Spike. She calls him soulless, she calls him nothing, she says he’s empty; she beats him up, she kicks him out, she refuses his affection and forces him to hide his own. Spike takes it because he is loyal and in love with her, and this is the extent that Buffy abuses him. She conditions him to think that she can’t love him, she conditions him to think that saying “No” means “Yes,” she conditions him to think that her abuse of him is kinky and will lead to sex.

Buffy’s goal is only to feel something. She wants Spike to take advantage because it makes things a lot easier for her to deal with. If she says “No,” that means that she’s tried to stop him, despite it not being what she really wants or expects of him.

Because of this abuse, in a very real way, Buffy is the one who destroys the safety that Spike represented. Her abuse of him corrodes their trust, but she doesn’t know that. Buffy, despite denying it or acknowledging it, still believes in Spike’s loyalty. And not only that – by this point, Buffy has fallen in love with him. The bathroom scene in Seeing Red happens, in part, because she’s pushed Spike too far – and she’s not ready to admit to anything, because she refuses to acknowledge that she was an abuser.

The events of Seeing Red are the culmination of Buffy’s actions with the complete absence of honest communication. It is because she tells Spike to move on that he sleeps with Anya. It is because she expected his loyalty that Dawn talks to Spike. It’s because she trained Spike to do the opposite of what she says that he tries to connect with her physically to make her happy.

It is because she refuses to acknowledge not only her abuse of him, but also her love for him, that he chooses to show her instead. Because Buffy doesn’t talk – she only acts, and that’s what Spike tries to do, in the way that she taught him – from the start of their affair to the explicit events in Gone, all the way to this scene, Buffy has told Spike that sex is how to get close to her.

The Bathroom Scene

A lot of people have been traumatized by this scene. It is very difficult to watch, since we’ve got these two beautifully complicated people trying so hard to communicate and failing so badly at it. Buffy, finally, is saying what she means, but Spike can’t hear it. Spike is, as he’s been taught to do, servicing her to show her his devotion. These two people are in love with each other but are deeply hurt. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Buffy is hurt by Spike’s actions while he’s hurt by her words, since these are the languages they understand.

If done well, this scene could have been healing. They could have finally come together in grief of their broken relationship and tried to fix it to something healthier. But instead, they were using the scene to push Spike into getting a soul, so he had to go too far, and she had to say too much.

I don’t think that Spike is out of character. I think that both Spike and Buffy act exactly within their character consistencies. Spike would totally seek Buffy out if he thought she was hurting – especially if he had any hope at all that he was the cause of her hurt. Buffy would completely deny, deny, deny any emotional attachment to Spike and take no responsibility for having hurt him. She’s still stuck, here, projecting her own numbness onto Spike with the false idea that he can’t love because he’s soulless.

Because of the constant, completely screwed up ideologies within this show about sex (that sex is bad, that too much sex is bad, that kinky sex is wrong, etc.) and because of the cumulative events that arise from their abusive sex=closeness relationship, the only way they could think of to make it even worse was to escalate to rape.

I know why they did it, because it makes sense within the story of their physical affair. It’s The Worst Thing you can do to someone else. We have to remember that Buffy doesn’t care about being killed, because she sort of wants to die. Also, Spike would never want to kill her. The only other thing he might want to do is turn her, but, to Buffy, that’s the same thing as being killed. Since her belief is that a demon takes over the human host, she might even welcome being turned as much as she would welcome death.

But importantly: there is the significant and completely intentional reverse of their villainousness actions here. In this scene, Buffy can’t be the villain anymore. It doesn’t matter how much she’s abused Spike, it doesn’t matter that their relationship was murky and confusing. Because it is rape, the only villain is the person committing the act of rape.

Spike must be made the villain here because anything else is victim blaming. It was the only action the writers could take to give the title of villain back to Spike away from Buffy. Spike has to end this season being the Big Bad because he must absorb all the hurt, the pain and the soullessness that was entangled with Buffy and incorporate it into himself (“You think I like having you in here? Destroying everything that was me, until all that's left is you, in a dead shell. You say you hate it, but you won't leave.”)

He takes Buffy’s pain and heals them both by – after these events – getting his soul.

The Problem

The writing staff knew their characters (for the most part). They knew that Spike was soulless and needed something drastic to instigate his search of a soul. Hurting Buffy this way did make the most sense in the framework of their affair and in the framework of making sex akin to drugs. But attempted rape was too, too far for the viewers. Talking about sex is already difficult for society, especially at the time this show was made. Talking about and explicitly showing attempted rape caused trauma to viewers and made a lot of people turn away from the otherwise very beautifully complicated relationship between Buffy and Spike.

People against Spuffy use this scene as the ultimate fodder against Spike, but doing so is disrespectful to the story, the lore and the characters. Spike loved Buffy enough soulless, but she was only strong enough to accept that once he went out and got one. In addition to that – Buffy forgives Spike for what he did that day. She admits to her side of the abuse, acknowledges that what they had was real, and doesn’t blame Spike for his actions. This conversation exists in bits-and-pieces in the Buffy comics – it would have been incredible to see it on screen in season 7, but I guess by that point the writers didn’t want to bring it up again and had way too many other things to deal with (which is another topic altogether).

I like the bathroom scene in Seeing Red. I think it’s horrible, and raw, and terribly authentic. The portrayal of hurt and betrayal by both actors is one of the strongest scenes in the show. I do wish, though, that they hadn’t taken it quite so far.

My Problem

Season 6 of Buffy is my favourite season. It is powerful and painful. But, if I could change it, I would have changed the messaging that sex is bad, because it isn’t, and both Spike/Buffy and Willow/Tara deserved something better.

[whoahoney]

hey!! could i request some fluff with josh kiszka? i'm going through a tough time and i would like him to lay on top of me while we watch his favorite weird artsy films and he enthusiastically explains what makes them so special <3

Ugh I’m sorry you’re having a rough time, my love! I hope this helps 🤍

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It hadn’t been long since you and Josh Kiszka started spending more alone time together, a few weeks of late night calls, sporadic text updates about your days, and generous amounts of spotify recommendations exchanged and discussed.

Every moment you managed to snag alone with him, time seemed to stop as you fell deeper and deeper into conversation and your fascination grew into deep admiration.

It began with Sam introducing you to his older brothers, a smug smirk on his lips as he watched Josh take you in, appraising you like his newest fixation as you spoke with an unmatched shine in your eye.

That very same night, Josh managed to find you alone—and without a drink! Which he fixed right away.

You’d sat outside beneath the stars and listened happily as he talked about what began as his influences, then quickly evolved into his inspirations, his passions and then never ending questions about everything that ever had to do with you.

The reasons you wake up in the morning, the songs that turn your day around, the foods that make your tastebuds sing, and your family and their whereabouts.

Soon you were the one caught up in a monologue about why your time in school was hard and how it affected your outlook on relationships of any kind, about how Sam was one of the first friends you’d made when you’d moved to town out of pure luck. The guy had really pulled you out of your shell and is a big part of the reason you have friends here in the first place.

Josh would be a liar if he said he didn’t worry about his chances with you based on how you spoke about his brother, but was quickly assured that you hadn’t found him to be romantically interesting, but a close platonic bond.

Before you parted for the night he was prompt to ask for your phone number, and you’d been talking ever since.

He’d invite you on late night drives, or hikes before brunch at his house, sometimes calling you up in the morning to make a spontaneous plan that almost always began with him fondly greeting you by name, melodic and mischievous, “… You got any plans today?”

And today was one of those days.

The sky was a calm downpour. The clouds a wool blanket of gray, and the lightning lit up the sky to amethyst purple with a mighty crack every now and then.

Josh’s living room had a perfect view to his backyard, a rolling green hill with spectacular trees fringing the area. The spring blooms had just blossomed and the grass was still long and thick from the lack of yard work done for the sake of the butterflies. He’d decided that morning when he opened the curtains that he needed to spend the day with you on the couch.

And who were you to refuse?

“I can be there in 20 minutes?” You offered.

You could practically hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Perfect, drive safe! And wear your coziest clothes.”

You hadn’t bothered with makeup or changing out of your pajamas, truthfully, before you shoved your socked feet into your rain boots and snatched up your keys.

You’d barely touched the doorbell when Josh appeared, beaming and reaching out to bring you inside. He didn’t hesitate to push the hood off your head and pull you in for a hug even if it meant getting his shirt a little wet.

He quickly got you settled on the couch, tucked into the best corner with a pillow and blanket draped over you. He busied himself in the kitchen with the kettle as he explained the plethora of dvds on the coffee table, “I’m still moving stuff out of my parent’s house, so when I go back they send stuff with me to bring here,“ he set down a ceramic mug that steamed with peppermint tea on the table before you and gestured to the piles, “I most recently received the treasured collection of dvds that changed my life.”

He sat down next to you, leaving a safe distance between you even though he wanted nothing more than to pull you close and hold your hand.

You’d yet to cross that line.

“Oh my gosh! Are any of these why you wanted to direct?”

He nodded and tapped a stack before picking it up, “Oh yeah, Monty Python and the Holy Grail inspired me to make my first film with my friends. It’s when I learned I liked satire! Well, that, and SNL….” He began rambling about his favorite cast and seasons, and then remembered himself before setting five movies in front of you to pick from.

“I want you to pick the first one.” He smiled and placed a hand in the middle of your back. Warmth consumed your skin in raised bumps all across your body. His touch had that effect on you sometimes.

You scan the options with difficulty, landing on a familiar favorite, “Fight Club?” You hold it up with a hopeful grin, one that Josh answers with his own, “Okay, but after we watch it, we can never speak of it.” You shoot him a weary glance, “It’s the rules.” He shrugged.

He stood to put the disc inside the ancient dvd player as thunder cracked and lighting broke the sky open for a moment. You jump, right as the flash lights up the room. Josh seems amused with this as he flops down next to you, closer than before. “No need to fear, darling.” He reminds in a transatlantic accent, throwing an arm around you. “It’s just a storm.”

You lean into his side as he presses play, chuckling and blushing at how this dork has you wrapped around his finger. He taps your nose and you reach up to interlace your fingers with his that dangled over your shoulder. He absentmindedly runs his thumb across your knuckles as the intro begins.

Josh can’t help but talk all through the movie, sharing his thoughts and opinions on the plot, frames of certain scenes he loves and hates, little bits of trivia no one else would ever know that you now know too because he shared it with you.

You revel in it all, learning about him—being here with him. It’s everything you’ve wanted since you met him. Josh never failed to make you feel special—just like Sam!

Except maybe a little bit different than Sam.

Okay, a lot different than Sam.

You’d wondered often where this was going between you two, getting teased relentlessly by Sam to thank him at the wedding someday but also never bothered to bestow upon you any information he may have about his brother’s feelings toward you.

Stupid brothers and their stupid code of conduct.

But it was moments like these, the ones where you keep getting closer and closer that make you wonder if it isn’t teasing at all from Sam. That maybe Josh really had his sights set on you and that maybe you weren’t too far off from—

“Hey, you still awake?” Josh asks quietly after a long silence. You’ve found that your head is on his shoulder and the movie is near over.

You raise up slightly before you feel his fingers curl around your shoulder in a light grip, as if asking you to stay.

So you did.

“Sorry, I didn’t even know I—“

“It’s okay! You could-uh, you could lay your head back down—if you wanted! You don’t—“ you interrupt his rambling as you laid your head down again, snuggling close to him with your knees almost in his lap. He sighed contently and placed his other hand on your knee. “Better?” He asks after a moment, and Brad Pitt slams his fist into an unsuspecting face on the screen.

You nod, “Mhm, thank you.” You can smell the lingering bergamot soap on his skin, fighting the urge to bury your nose in his neck and inhale before pressing a kiss to it.

“Thank you for coming over on such short notice.” He said quietly, his head laid over on yours.

You smile, “Of course. I… really like hanging out with you.”

Josh chuckled, his chest bouncing with it, “I like spending time with you too, doll.” He said fondly, bringing his hand up from your shoulder to stroke your hair. The affection had you stifling a sharp breath with a swallow.

The silence was thick after he spoke, your eyes glued to the TV and bodies unmoving though the energy passing between you was humming. It felt like something was about to happen.

“Y’know, when Sam told me about you I didn’t know…” he paused in thought before you lifted your head from his shoulder in question. Josh looked uncharacteristically somber, pondering his words carefully as they formed in his mouth. “I didn’t know you’d be so… beguiling.” He shrugged.

You chuckle, “Yeah, I’ve been told I’m a little weird.”

Josh smiles softly and shakes his head before finally looking at you with a tender caress of his finger down your cheekbone. “Sweetheart… I’m crazy about weird.” He smiles knowingly at your lips. “My day doesn’t feel complete anymore if I don’t hear from you.” He tsks, “It’s almost kind of ridiculous, I might even kinda resent you for it if you make me go a day without speaking to you!” He jokes.

You smile at him and lean into his touch. “I know what you mean, Kiszka. If I haven’t had my morning song rec I might as well have skipped my coffee, since I met you.” You bite the inside of your cheek as he appraises you, similarly to the night you met, the adoring smile he had on his face fading as he worded his next sentence carefully.

“They way I feel about you…” He sighed and shook his head, as if at a loss for words, “I think about you. All the time.” He whispers as if it’s a secret he’s afraid to tell.

Your eyes widen before you slowly nod, “I… I think about you too, Josh. Way too much for my own good, I think.” You admit just as softly with a glance to his lips. You have the urge to brush your thumb against his bottom lip, to take his chin in your hand and—

Josh smiles and tugs you closer, “Am I reading this wrong, or do you want me to kiss you?” He teases just as your noses brush, and instead of answering, you connect your lips to his, just as the final gunshot of the film fired.

It could’ve been seconds or minutes later when you stopped kissing, only pulling back an inch or so to linger as his eyes slowly opened. He smiled at you and swiped his finger along your cheek again, “I really like you. And I wanna do this with only you.” He said easily.

You can’t help but smile and nod before holding his face in your hands and kiss him again, “All of my kisses are yours.”

Josh’s eyes brightened at that and leaned in for more kisses, taking greedy pecks before your giggles melted into moans of content, the other movies long forgotten. You spend the rest of the afternoon laying on Josh’s chest, the windows open to listen to the pattering of the rain against the ground, and Josh’s heart beat beneath your ear, more than enough to kill you to sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t leave Josh’s house after that day, three days later you were clad in his clothes and still on his couch, watching Josh’s picks no matter how gory or off-kilter they were. His commentary was your favorite part of every film, the bender filled with his laughter, critique, and praise.

You were picking the next dvd, replacing the one you just finished back into the sleeve of the book when you saw a disc labeled “Josh and Jake -2001”

“What’s this?” You ask as you hold it up.

Josh looks up from his phone as you approach, squinting as reads it before smiling fondly, “Oh, this is fantastic, put it in! You’re gonna love it.” He taps his hand on the table enthusiastically before rubbing his hands together and bouncing in his seat.

“Okay! Okay!” You giggle as you bend over, catching Josh’s intent lean forward in the black reflection of the TV, getting a full view of your ass before you straightened and pressed play. Josh held open his arms for you just as you flopped onto the couch and loud voices and a glitchy hole video filled the screen.

Two little figures stood in the middle of the grass, their hair short and their matching smiles just as large as they were today. They were shirtless, clad in denim shorts and barefoot as they sang into a small broom stick together, belting James Taylor as their family joined in.

“Oh my gosh!” You mused quietly, watching their little wiggling limbs as they danced similarly to what you’d seen on stage. Josh blushed as he watched you watch his childhood.

The next clip was the two of them standing in their kitchen, their little feet wanting to flee so badly but kept still to look into the camera lens. Their father spoke in the background, “Hi boys!”

“Hi daddy!” They chorused enthusiastically.

“Okay, so I’m gonna ask you guys some questions, and you’re gonna tell me your answers so we can remember them forever!”

“Yeah!” One of the twins yelled as the other nodded. “That’s me.” Josh pointed out, as if you thought any different.

“How old are you?”

“Five!” They said almost in tandem.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Jake shifted on his little feet as Josh began to bounce, “Purple!” He shouted.

“I like blue.” Jake added, nervously running his tongue over his lip as you’d seen him do just last week when conversation was turned to him at dinner.

“I like-I like red, daddy!” Ronnie yelled from across the room, sat at place at the dinner table.

“And Sam likes green!” Josh insisted as he pointed at the bald baby sat on their mothers knee, bibbed and slobbering with a smile as he bounced.

Kelly laughed behind the camera, “I think so too! What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“I wanna….” Little Josh rolled his eyes as he trailed off with a gaping mouth as Jake perked up, “I wanna be a rockstar!” He said with light in his eyes and a smile on his face that Josh mirrored, “Yeah! We’ll be rockstars!” He agreed.

You giggled as they commenced their air drumming and mimicked screeching guitar riffs, finding Josh’s eyes on you as you turned to look at him, noting the warmth in your chest that grew when he smiled. “You always knew, huh?” You ask.

Josh chuckled dryly and shrugged, “Well, not always. I’ve always known I wanted to be with my brother. That he’s my partner in all things and I would do anything to make his dreams possible. Especially if I can have this much fun doing it.” He chuckles for real. “I think I’ve ended up here because I surrendered to the journey—the flow of the waters of life, if you will.” He gave you a look your quite familiar with, one he uses as he usually monologues.

“You go where life takes you?” You ask.

He nods insistently, “Absolutely. And I’m very happy with where I am, and where I’m going.” He smiled and took you in again, similarly to the night you met, “even more so, now that I can enjoy it with you.” He took your hand tenderly and squeezed it.

You can’t help your smile, and words fail you. You can only nod and press a deep kiss to his perfect lips, ready to spend this night and many more just like this.

-

-

A/N: I kinda hate this but also simultaneously love it, it’s my first time writing for Josh so I apologize if it feels out of character for him 🥲💖

[dearreader]

hello fellow members of the tortured poets department.

today i enter into evidence my boy only breaks his favorite toys and analyze it. i’m most excited for this one as i think the running metaphor is a great one and love the details ive already seen. it’s also one of my favorite songs on the album so this was move exciting for me.

previous days: fortnight, THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

this song is probably one of my favorites as it uses a toy metaphor for taylor. she’s already made references to youth and toys with her relationships in the past, notably on lover with inthaf being about regrowing again as a person with her muse. also on cruel summer she refers to the object of her longing as a “bad bad boy, shiny toy with a price, you know that i bought it”. with that line implying many things about that relationship and taylor letting it be something less than what she wants it to be to be with him, i also like to think about the line with the price being fame and her buying it so now she can’t have him.

BUT in this song taylor is referring to herself as the toy!! i love this metaphor for her as with her talking about not seeing herself as human and having constant metaphors about being bought and sold (dorothea) or being picked but only to suffer instead (daylight and clara bow). so her being a toy fit this metaphor, especially with how she’s been recently with eras tour AND leading up to the tour. she was everywhere and was THE hot item. and going back to 2016 being seen with you on her arm meant you were hot shit. so taylor saying “the sickest army doll, purchased at the mall/rivulets descend my plastic smile” hits you like a gut punch because even at her lowest moment ever she was still marketable and family friendly to sell. her sadness can be turned into songs or magazine titles or anything really as long as it makes money for everyone AND it references you’re losing me and could be her at the end of the relationship, having fought for years and was now battered and bruised and heartbroken. BUT if that’s how she was referring to herself back in 2016 where she was fighting for her life trying to make anything work but was chewed up and spat back out, with the added detail of her plastic smile being how taylor says she smiles in her sleep because it’s so natural to her (as we saw in the lwymmd video) it shows that she wasn’t real and was just there for others enjoyment in either playing or destroying her. and with the following line being “cause you should’ve seen me when he first saw me” not only referencing how taylor kept going back to the beginning of the relationship to justify staying so long BUT also saying “i was so worse then so it doesn’t matter how he plays with me.”

but with either affect this song has such BEAUTIFUL imagery. taylor describing him building castles for her doll self to play in only for him to destroy them (building up her expectations of their future but backing out and changing his mind so she never knew if they were in the same page of their future) or them being puzzle pieces that fit together perfect and made a beautiful picture only for him to break it. AND her saying that when you pull her string one of her automatic responses is “he runs because he loves me” which references several songs:

new romantics with “please take my hand and please leave me stranded”

you’re losing me with “now your running down the hallway/don’t you know what they all say/don’t know what you got until it’s gone” (which means that he would constantly put her back in the shelf but come running back to her again and again)

down bad with “how dare you leave me safe and stranded”. so with this automatic response saying he runs (away or toward her) because he loves her is because it’s so deeply ingrained into her from all her relationships and what he kept doing to her. she didn’t think anything was wrong because that’s what was always right.

i specifically love the outro and NEED to discuss it. just, her saying she was willing to stay with him for so long because he actually PLAYED WITH HER. and not just in a “he played with my feelings” but that he actually used her how she was designed. he loved her, built the idea of a future with her, and stole her heart and broke it! and that was more than any other person. because she actually meant something to him. and that thought was enough to keep her going until it wasn’t…

other line parallels i didn’t how to fit in but loved:

“maybe your electric touch could bring this ghost town to life”//“inescapable. not even going to try. and if i get burned? atleastwewereelectrified.”//“‘cause i knew to much, there was danger in the heat of my touch”

“and when i break, it's in a million pieces”//“stole my tortured heart/left all these broken parts”//“breaking down, I hit the floor/all the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "more!"

“what a charming saturday/that's when she sees the littlest leaks/down in the floorboards/and she just knows she must bolt”//“i used to switch out these kens, I'd just ghost//rip the band-aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw”//“i felt more when we played pretend/than with all the kens/'cause he took me out of my box” (AND THIS ONE I LOVE SO MUCH because we all called taylor out being like “hey girl, we know it wasn’t” and this is her saying “THIS IS WHY IT FEELS DIFFERENT!”)

[variousqueerthings]

i think in many ways it's harder for me to write about rose than any other companion of the show. with martha-detractors I simply go "be on your way, you are incorrect" (same with donna, but with less judgement), and I think that while I do have my niggling things about amy and clara, from what I've seen, the discussions around them (in these here parts of the interweb) are reeeelatively chill? or at least, if I've had positives or negatives to bring up about some of the writing, I think people tend to stay in their space of what does or doesn't work for them about these characters, whether or not they agree with what I'm saying (I think, same for river song)

this not to say that there isn't presumably drama out there, but I don't really care to seek it out, and so far I haven't seemed to invite it

with rose, my favourite companion because she was my first doctor who companion and I have such warm memories of her as a character type I looked up to, I'm kind of very affectionate of how I read her, and it's very based in feeling like her ending removes a lot of her agency

and I think she gets put so much into a box because of that ending, that trying to complicate that box makes people's hackles rise, even if you're not... saying anything bad about her? because you're a fan of her character? I don't think I've ever said anything to the contrary? specifically amatonormative box-wise, and I even read rose as an alloromantic character most of the time (unless I'm having fun going even further on complicating that, which I should do more often honestly)

people who don't like the idea of rose and doctor as romantic endgame get annoyed that they have to think about her at all, and it seems those people frequently put her low/lowest on their companion rankings because of the amatonormative read they have of the arc that they also don't like, and that is all she is as character to them in the end, which is such a shame

and people who do like the idea of rose and specifically tentoo as romantic endgame get annoyed because... well, I don't like it much? and I read rose and the doctor's relationship differently to something so straightforward? and I like challenging the ending that she's given that to me is very open and seemingly under-explored

in the end it's a shame that she's not "allowed" to have her narrative complicated in read, without inviting annoyed responses. and I don't technically care, it's whatever the character-read version of kink tomato is, you do you and if someone's taking that personally, that's whatever, that's the kind of shit that happens in fandom sometimes right? block and move on

but it does make her harder to write about, on the whole, knowing that she's not a character that's so open to interpretation in a lot of peoples minds, because it starts and stops with the romance. makes me think I should go harder on why I don't read that so simply, not to be spiteful, but just because there's not a lot of people from the looks of things who are fans of rose, but don't read a straightforward alloromantic narrative in her relationship with the doctor or with tentoo, so I do feel like I'm mooostly writing to the void (appreciated your comment a lot @figgyblossom and everyone who does engage with rose-posts that read her differently)

just uh... don't take this so seriously. I'm a rose fan, I wouldn't be writing about her so much if I wasn't

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Prompt: i haven’t stopped thinking about the way you laugh.  i’m hoping i’ll get to hear it again

Pairing: JackHarding

It's two days before V-E day (though Jack doesn't know it at the time), when his secretary-Lieutenant Perez–walks into his office and says, "Colonel Harding to see you, Sir."

Jack looks up from his paperwork. His secretary doesn't look like she's joking, but she looks a little confused. "Harding?" He asks. "He's in the States." Jack knows this because it was officially declared in a report from London. He also knows this because he gets letters twice a week from West Virginia and writes two back in return.

"Apparently not, Sir," Perez says. "He said he's here to see you on a private matter."

Jack's thoughts tumble for a moment. A private matter. As if they have more than one to discuss. He puts down his pen and stands. "Send him in and shut the door, please," he says. 

Perez leaves, and Jack stands behind his desk with his hands on his hips, unsure exactly how to greet Chick as he walks into the office. The door clicks shut behind him. Chick looks at Jack with a small smile, then grimaces. 

"Jesus Christ, did you lose more weight?"

Jack glances down. "Not that I know of," he replies. He looks at Chick again. "Looks like you're back to full health," he says. The last time he'd seen Chick, he'd been wan and sweaty, laid out in a hospital bed in London as he waited for the doctors to see him. Seeing him now, as hale and hearty as he was before he ignored his gallbladder, Jack feels a wave of relief that nearly knocks him off his feet. "You look good," he says. It comes out softer than he means it to.

Chick's smile widens. "You mind coming over here?" he asks, half-teasing, "Or am I getting the full Colonel treatment with you staying behind your desk?"

"Just a Lieutenant Colonel," Jack says as he steps around his desk. "You know that." He stops a few feet from Chick, unsure exactly how close to get. 

Chick settles the question for him, reaching out and stepping close at the same time, wrapping an arm around Jack's waist and splaying his other hand across Jack's ribs. "Feel about the same," he says. "Maybe I just forgot how skinny you are."

"Smokey weighed me a week ago. I'm almost back to my starting weight," Jack says, hand resting on Chick's bicep. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Missed you," Chick says. His thumb rubs back and forth on Jack's chest. "Your letters are great, but they're not you."

"Are you taking over again?"

"No. I'll be officially stationed in London starting next week. I came over a little early to take some leave."

Jack stares at Chick. "You didn't say anything about it in your letters."

"I had to do a little song and dance to make it happen. Upper brass were understandably confused about why I'd want to be in London when I could go to the Pacific and be in the middle of the war again. I didn't want to get your hopes up."

Jack shakes his head. "How'd you convince them?"

"Told them there was someone I needed to get back to. Someone I missed."

Jack feels warm all over. "Chick," he says. "That might be the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"Well, give me a week behind a desk full-time, and you might decide it's the dumbest thing I've ever done." Chick's eyes go soft when Jack snorts in amusement. "I haven’t stopped thinking about the way you laugh. I’m hoping I’ll get to hear it again."

Jack stares for a moment. "I take it back," he says. "That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

"You deserve it," Chick says. "Every word."

Jack kisses him. Touching his cheek and feeling his stubble, cupping the back of his neck so he can't get away. Chick responds by wrapping his other arm around Jack's waist and pulling him even closer. It's the kiss Jack wanted to give him before he left him in London. It's the kiss he's imagined giving him every time a letter has arrived. It's the kiss they never got to have before they were separated because this one comes after months of twice-weekly letters where they've had to sneak their devotion between the lines. 

When they pull apart, Chick presses his face to Jack's neck and breathes deep. Jack tucks his nose into Chick's hair and smells his cigars. "Where are you staying?" Jack asks. 

"Wherever you want me," Chick replies. 

Jack chuckles, and when he feels Chick smile against his skin, it turns into a laugh. "As good as you remember?" he asks. 

Chick lifts his head to meet his gaze, and his whole face shines with pleasure. "Even better," he says. 

Two days later, as Churchill reads the victory address over the radio, Jack laughs in shock and happiness and feels it double as Chick slips an arm around his waist and pulls him in close. They've made it, he thinks. They've made it.

[ag-updates-and-archives]

STILL IN LOVE: Anthony Green on music, creativity, and identity

mhudelson on instagram

There is a sparkle in Anthony Green’s eyes as he enters one of the rooms located underneath Detroit’s iconic St. Andrew’s Hall. Green will be headlining tonight’s performance for the ten-year anniversary of his debut solo album, Avalon, later in the evening, but right now he’s hoping to stretch.

“When I’m out with Circa [Survive],” he begins,” I have a lot more time on my hands. I’m involved in every part of the day on this tour, so finding time for myself can be a bit tricky. You need to make the most of the moment when it presents itself.”

Green is no stranger to the concept of using one’s time wisely. During the few short weeks between Circa Survive’s last tour and the start of his current solo run, the thirty-six-year-old songwriter managed to finish and release another record, Would You Still Be In Love, which hit the internet without warning. He claims the surprise release was born out of a desire to try something different, but fans who’ve heard the album know it’s no significant departure from the sound Green has honed for his solo albums over the last decade. Over the course of nine tracks, Green sings of love, loss, sex, death, and his battles with mental illness. It is his most raw release to date, playing like a private concert for you and you alone with limited accompaniment and just enough reverb to get under your skin. He’s proud of the record, though he would never say it outright.

“I think it came out well,” Green says in response to a compliment, his eyes and mind already focused on exercise. That is as self-aggrandizing as he gets.

Would You Still Be In Love opens with “Vera Lynn,” a song that references and takes its name from a famous English vocalist who rose to popularity during the Second World War. The chorus pay homage to two of Lynn’s iconic hits, “We’ll Meet Again” and “The Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.” Green claims listening to these songs helped him have a breakthrough in his understanding of himself, and ultimately lead to the realization that he is bipolar.

“I had been listening to those two songs a lot when that song came to me. Initially, I was in a writing session, and when I’m in those situations, I don’t force [my creativity] to come out. Instead, I said, “You know what? Let’s just put on some music and soak it up.” So I head to YouTube and discover a very low-quality recording of “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square In 1940″. I was like, fuck. I was looking at the lyrics of that and “We’ll Meet Again,” and I was like “I want a song that sounds like this thematically.” Like “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square [In 1940]” is about meeting someone for the first time, and I love how the same energy is in “We’ll Meet Again,” only now it’s about the last time you’ll ever see someone. Listening to those songs had me wrestling with all of this emotion. If it’s the last time, you’ll see me or the first, what’s better? What’s better? It’s the same thing! It’s the same visceral thing; it’s just pushed in different directions.”

He continues, “It was through trying to realize that similarity that I learned I was bipolar. And it was during the creation of that song when I was like, this song is about being okay with the fact that you’re paranoid. You know what I mean? Yeah, you’re paranoid, it’s okay, you have to fucking trust that it’s okay that you’re feeling this way because it all goes away. Even the good stuff. And so, it was intended to be a love song about a person and a romantic feeling, and it just ended up being almost a love song about being bipolar and that it’s okay. I wanted to call the record Bipolar Love Songs, but I’m thrilled I didn’t because it came out on the same day as that Kanye record where he makes a big deal out of it.”

Emotion, precisely that of love and loss, runs throughout Would You Still Be In Love. As Green continues to discuss the album, the conversation turns to the sexual tension at the heart of “Why Must We Wait,” one of the record’s later tracks.

“I love that feeling of being taken away from yourself when you’re in that moment,” he says, referring to intercourse. “And I do find myself writing about it a lot. I think that sex and lust is something that is so universal and is such a… People are always like, “where do you get your inspiration from?” And it’s sexuality. Sexuality and the confusion and the relationship with it it’s such a beautiful thing, and there’s vastness there. It doesn’t necessarily have to do singularly with some pornographic idea, but that feeling of surrendering yourself to the moment. I’ve always wanted to write a song that celebrated my feeling at that moment, and “Why Must We Wait” is the closest I ever got.

Green’s knack for capturing human emotion and translating to a song has rarely felt more realized than on his new album, but it’s certainly nothing new. His life, including things otherwise left unsaid, has been the source and motivation for his songwriting for nearly two decades. 2016’s Pixie Queen, Green’s previous solo album, was described in a 2018 Substream interview as having been written as a message to his wife. When asked if the new album follows suit, Green pauses his exercise just long enough to answer.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m trying to send her a message, necessarily, this time. I feel like I was trying to get her attention with Pixie Queen and then when I sort of didn’t, I was like, in that place where I’m the person who didn’t get the attention they wanted. So then I wrote that record. That’s what Would You Still Be In Love is. Would you still be in love if you spent ten years writing records for somebody it maybe doesn’t resonate with? That maybe doesn’t give a shit? On the flip side, are you still going to be in love with somebody who you spend over ten years with who all they do is write a bunch of records for you but don’t clean the fucking house the way you wanted them to or they don’t do the thing you wanted them to do? I think that overkill, trying to make this thing that was trying to save my marriage, ended up producing Would You Still Be In Love because I was maybe in a position where you go 50/50 with somebody, I maybe went 70 and then had some resentment about it.”

Not more than five seconds pass before Green confesses, “That is how I get through everything, though. I don’t answer to anything. Do we have a problem? I write some music.”

As his stretching resumes, so does conversation around the album. “A Little Death” was a song I almost didn’t put on the record. I recorded it once; then I changed some lyrics. Even after that, I was like, “is this too much?” I went to my producer, and he was like, “fuck no, dude. Go listen to Lil Uzi Vert sing about sex, and the way he likes to sing about it and tell me if your shit is too much.” He was right.”

One has to wonder how Green finds time to do as much as he does. He’s currently the frontman of both Circa Survive and Saosin, as well as a wildly successful solo artist who is known to moonlight in the mysterious rock group known as The Sound Of Animals Fighting. He tours more than half of any given year, and any time not spent on the road is lived at the home where he has a wife and four sons, none of whom have reached their teens years quite yet. He also writes and releases music with all the groups mentioned above, in addition to hopping on any offers to lend his vocals to friends’ records that may arise.

Speaking to his work ethic, Green claims to set aside time for himself while home from the road to focus on developing new material. At some point each day he leaves his house in Doylestown, Pennsylvania and visits a local park, or similarly quiet place, where he can write and seek inspiration. Sometimes he brings his guitar, but other days he chooses to listen to music and explore.

But musicians cannot create in a vacuum. Eventually, material needs to be played for an audience, and lately Green has found a perfect crowd right in his hometown.

Green says last summer he discovered an open mic at M.O.M.’s, a bar and restaurant located in downtown Doylestown, which provided the perfect opportunity for him to try out new material without worrying about fan reaction. “I can’t go there anymore,” he says with a laugh. “At least, not after this story comes out.”

“The first time I discovered it, I borrowed a guitar and went on under an alias. The next week, I used my name because nobody there knew who I was. Nobody listened to the shit I put out. Everyone at that open mic night was just there to play and listen to other people playing. I wrote “[You’re So] Dead Meat,” “Little Death,” “Why Must We Wait,” “When I Come Home,” all of those songs, working them out at that open mic night. I would go there, work it out, and then weeks later I would go later to L.A. or Colorado or whatever and play a little solo show where I would work it out more in front of people that I knew. It was the most fun I’ve had writing and a terrifying feeling while performing. It was great.”

In all his time attending M.O.M.’s open mic nights, Green claims his true identity has never been uncovered. “I see this woman in town, and she only knows me as the guy who does open mic nights.” He grins before adding, “She still has no clue.”

A sudden knock at the door informs us that Green will soon need to leave and meet with his VIP ticket holders, each of whom paid a premium for a time with him and early access to the venue, along with other perks. The conversation has focused so heavily on Green’s recent activities that the reason for the evening, the ten-year anniversary of his first solo album Avalon, has hardly been mentioned. Green laughs while acknowledging this fact and briefly switches gears to say that the tour is going well. Backed by members of Good Old War and a collection of golden balloons spelling out the album title, he has been serenading crowds across the country to rapturous response while revisiting his debut solo release. That album has always held a special place in Green’s heart, perhaps because its success was proof the world would accept him at his most unraveled and revealing, and he revels in the opportunity to play it once again.

As he begins to discuss the teenage relationship that laid the foundation for what became the songs of Avalon, Green is struck by the notion of identity and how it relates to certain places. For him, Avalon is more than just a spot on the map. Avalon is a place where a few pivotal scenes in Green’s life played out before he knew how valuable they would be, and every time he finds himself there once more he’s reunited with the idea of who he was back then. Though thirty-six now, he can recall the way he felt more than half his life ago in vibrant detail, and he’s more aware than most of its deceptive power.

“It’s funny to think about how long you can hold on to that image of being that guy,” he says with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. “It’s comforting to think of ourselves in this individuality, in this individual sense of the word. Like, okay, if you find yourself on this road, then that’s where you are. That’s not where you are. That’s where your sense of self that you have manifested is grounded. So it’s easier for you to find it there, but this thing that we think we are is an illusion. This thing that you think you are, this person that I think I am so that I can function in this society is not real. And it’s malleable; it’s paper thin. Everything I love and hate is a decision that I’ve made to live in the world, but if I needed to, I could deal with the nights cold even though I’m a summer guy.”

He continues, “If I needed to, I could get comfy with eating anything every day. I could adapt. We are so adaptable. Our personalities, our minds. If there was the most beautiful woman you’d ever met in your entire life and she seduced you and brought you away, I guarantee you she could start getting you to love science fiction, or she could get you to start loving the color purple and all you wear is purple now because Sophia got you to love it. And we allow that to happen all the time except for certain moments when we hold on so tight. If we learned how to always be like that, like a little kid going along with it, we would be happier. And in a true sense of the word, not in an unbalanced sense where someone else needs to be sad. We would see the yin and the yang of things and be okay with life going at its own pace.”

Another reminder from the doorway about his waiting fans is received with a nod from Green that says the conversation is about to end. He briefly mentions his excitement to visit South America with Circa Survive in September, as well as ambitions to create “something groundbreaking” with the group’s next release, which he has been writing for the past sixth months. “I have this vision for songs in my head that I’ve never had for a Circa record,” he says. “I have lyrics that are… I want to make this record important. Right now there’s no label; there’s no nothing. I don’t want to wait around until the band needs money and then be motivated by that. We just took this trip together that ended with all of us on a beach together in Hawaii. We were looking up at the stars, and we talked about the new album. We talked about making music together, and we talked about our purpose together on this planet, and it made me realize that the band is too important to me to keep pushing and pushing and pushing. I want to take a step back from what we… I want to take a little step out of, away, so we can solely focus on making this beautiful art piece of music. Something that is not just something to sell on tour. I don’t know whether it’s a song or if it’s an EP or an album, but I have this thing that needs to come out for Circa Survive that’s been brewing in me, and I know it’s been brewing in all of them because that night on the beach in Hawaii, I saw it. In everyone’s eyes, I saw this record. I heard the melodies. I felt the feeling that is coming from when it’s completed, and it’s the most important thing the band is going to do until whatever we do after that.”

A follow-up is asked, but the door is already closing and Green is off to greet the first fans at the venue. Hundreds more filed in soon after, and before long The Shelter is filled with individuals sharing memories and singing along to songs that changed everyone’s lives. Through it, all Green can be seen wearing a smile so wide it reflects the bright lights hanging over the stage. That probably wasn’t where he saw himself a decade ago, but you can tell there is no place he’d rather be.

[hairybirthdayclown]

as someone who has detriment placements

here's the run down of each while i listen to Mitski.

• capricorn Moon is literally my favourite Moon sign not because i have it but because these natives care so deeply about a lot. they just have never been given the outlet to express themselves, so they find alternative ways to do so with how they show that they care & with other emotions. this is why they can be deemed as complex. what i've noticed is that they have a very childlike spirit because they might've skipped out on their childhood. they're prone to watching cartoons or listening to their favourite songs from when they were younger. their emotional development is delayed because they never thought it needed to be due to their mature nature throughout their lives. reaction time is also delayed tbh; these natives could still be affected by the past but choose not to do anything about it until later on in life or until they realise it.

a song i associate these lot with:

• sagittarius Mercury please stop before i piss myself. y'all are so unserious it's so entertaining sometimes. what i've noticed with these natives is that they're very loud. with myself, i normally TEXT LIKE THIS & talk a lot. these people are quite funny either intentional or not. it's not necessarily anything difficult but sometimes i tend to turn small talk into meaningful discussions when i'm bored, same with the other 5 people in my life with this placement. i hateee small talk but i've noticed we're really good at conversating & filling awkward silence. lying for fun, exaggerating stories blahblahblah.

your song:

• scorpio Venus ...one thing that people don't talk about is how others get obsessed with these natives, especially those who've been romantically involved with them. 2 of my friends have this & their exes from years ago are still fixated on them. i don't date or get romantically involved with anyone but A LOT of people & old friends of mine developed a crush on me & even claimed to be in love with me. a guy that i know has this & his personality is equivalent to a stale turd but an abnormal amount of people wanted to date him. people love attention from these natives i think. but all in all, we just want to be loved by one specific person & them being absolutely enamoured by us. the challenging aspect of it all is keeping a stable relationship.

your song:

• cancer Saturn i've noticed are the most caring people ever. they usually care about other peoples wellbeing but from my experience they hate when others ask how they're doing/feeling. they hate being asked questions about themselves in regards to how they feel. in some cases it takes years for them to outwardly act caring & compassionate towards those they truly care about, even themselves sometimes. i think one of their biggest fears is being vulnerable. they're like a stern parent who acts like they're okay so that other people don't worry too much about them. they don't want to seem like a burden. their family life could've been unemotional & lacked affectionate gestures. one of the biggest lessons these lot have to learn how to express their emotions without fear or judgement. you're not wrong for the way you feel.

y'all need a whole playlist:

*(there's nothing wrong with you. i'm not a pro at all. take what resonates)

thanks for reading :)

[emotionalsupportjedi]

Love Me, That’s All I Ask Of You: Psychoanalysis and Relationships in Phantom of the Opera

“You can't win her love by making her your prisoner” (Morris and Connor, 2011). This line, said by Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, can be considered a critical line about the relationship between Christine Daaé and the Phantom in Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical Phantom of the Opera. The musical details what happens when Christine Daaé, a member of the chorus at the Palais Garnier, rises to take the place of prima donna, and the Phantom takes interest in her and takes drastic measures such as murder to ensure that she maintains her position. Looking at this musical with psychoanalytic theory gives the person watching it an interesting new perspective. Psychoanalytic theory is based on the works of Sigmund Freud, known as the father of psychoanalysis. In particular, his works on core anxieties, defence mechanisms, and trauma are relevant to this musical and its depiction of the Phantom in particular. The main relationship in the musical Phantom of the Opera models the idea of trauma creating more trauma and the negative effects trauma has on relationships.

First, the Phantom’s childhood trauma has started a cycle of trauma in the story, shown in part through his fear of abandonment. In the story, the Phantom was born with a physical deformity, which caused him to be an outcast from society and implied that he was abandoned by his mother. These events are the main cause of his fears, including his fear of abandonment. In Critical Theory Today: A User-Friendly Guide, Lois Tyson discusses fear of abandonment, defining it as “the unshakeable belief that our friends and loved ones are going to desert us (physical abandonment) or don’t really care about us (emotional abandonment)” (Tyson, 2006). One defence mechanism that the Phantom seems to use in relation to this fear is displacement, which is defined as “”taking it out” on someone or something less frightening than the person who caused our fear, hurt, frustration, or anger” (Tyson, 2006). Throughout the first act, the Phantom is seen taking out his anger on Christine when she does something that he does not like or sees as a threat, such as her taking his mask. When she does so in the song I Remember/Stranger Than You Dreamt It, he yells at her and curses her, saying, “Damn you, you little prying Pandora! You little demon! Curse you! You little lying Delilah! You little viper! Now you cannot ever be free!” (Morris and Connor, 2011). Of all the names he calls her, I find “Pandora” to be the most interesting. It is a reference to the Ancient Greek myth about Pandora’s box: the gods and goddesses give Pandora, the first woman, a box filled with all of the evils in the world. Against her better judgement, her curiosity got the best of her, and she released all of the evils into the world. By referencing this myth, the Phantom is telling Christine that now that her own curiosity has gotten the better of her, she cannot be free of him, and she has released his rage onto herself. This use of displacement is a way for the Phantom to protect himself from the fear that Christine will abandon him for seeing his face, but possibly unbeknownst to him, this is a destructive way of reaching this end. This incident causes Christine trauma, and she starts to fear the Phantom and his rage, which will end up with her trying to avoid the Phantom and leaving him.

Another core anxiety of the Phantom’s that drives the relationship side plot of the musical is his fear of betrayal. Lois Tyson defines fear of betrayal as “the nagging feeling that our friends and loved ones can’t be trusted, for example, can’t be trusted not to lie to us, not to laugh at us behind our backs, or in the case of romantic partners, not to cheat on us by dating others” (Tyson, 2006). As with his fear of abandonment, and with most core issues, the Phantom uses a defence mechanism as a way of coping with this fear; in this case, he uses projection. Tyson defines projection as “ascribing our fear, problem, or guilty desire to someone else and then condemning him or her for it, in order to deny that we have it ourselves” (Tyson, 2006). The Phantom uses this coping mechanism throughout the second act, most notably in the final showdown between him, Christine, and Raoul. After kidnapping Christine during the middle of a performance of the opera the Phantom wrote to facilitate this scheme, the Phantom attempts to hang her fiancé, Raoul de Chagny, who has come to save Christine. He tells Christine that it would be her who chooses if Raoul lives or dies by giving her an ultimatum: “Start a new life with me, buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice- This is the point of no return!” (Morris and Connor, 2011). The line “Refuse me and you send your lover to his death” has a couple interesting parts to it. As a whole, it shifts the blame from the Phantom to Christine, as projection does, but when looking at the use of the word lover, it is another way for the Phantom to show how he feels he has been betrayed. In the musical, the Phantom and Christine do not have a formal relationship, whereas Christine and Raoul do. The use of the word “lover” is a way to show that Phantom thinks of their relationship as Christine cheating on him, using the word as a way to deny the couple legitimacy in his mind as he is desperate for her affections. In his mind, since Christine is his, she is betraying him by taking a lover, whereas in reality, Christine is just getting engaged to her childhood friend and her beloved. The combination of her fear from this and earlier situations and the way that Raoul treats her much better is what ends up with a tearful goodbye to the Phantom and their trauma-based relationship from Christine.

As a final point of interest in this essay about fear, Phantom of the Opera uses two of its main characters, Christine and the Phantom, as a way to distinguish rational and irrational fears. The fears that psychoanalysis covers are irrational, ones based in trauma, but are often made up in one’s own head. These fears are shown through the Phantom and his actions and lines that have been discussed in this essay. However, the musical also uses Christine to show the rational fears that would come along with being in her position throughout the musical. Throughout the musical, Christine is constantly being watched and influenced by the Phantom, blamed for the situation by the managers and Carlotta, who is competing for the spotlight with her, and still having to perform parts in well-known operas as if none of this is going on. She is rationally afraid of these situations, and throughout the song Notes… / Twisted Every Way she asks many rhetorical questions about her situation, such as: “Am I to risk my life to win the chance to live?... Oh God - if I agree, what horrors wait for me… in this, the Phantom's opera...?” (Morris and Connor, 2011).These rhetorical questions are manifestations of Christine’s fear. The line that stands out the most is “...if I agree, what horrors wait for me”, with the word “horrors” conveying to the audience and the characters on stage that she knows she is in a dangerous situation. At this point, the Phantom has killed someone in the middle of an opera performance, and Christine is rightfully scared that she could be next, that she could be the victim of a man who is unpredictable in the severity of his rage. Another line that stands out is “in this, the Phantom’s opera”, which serves as a way to show who is in power right now. The Phantom has all of the power over her in this situation, and her helplessness is only fueling her fear. Christine has been traumatised by the Phantom and their relationship.

To conclude, the musical the Phantom of the Opera uses its main relationships to demonstrate how trauma is a cycle that negatively affects both of the parties involved. Looking at the musical through a psychoanalytic lens gives an interesting insight into how relationships can be affected by mental health and our coping mechanisms. Ultimately, it is probably a good thing that Christine Daaé leaves the Phantom in the end; who knows what would have happened if they had ended up together in the end? On a larger scale, analyses like this essay can be used to look at real-life relationships, and those watching this musical may relate to the characters and the situations they are in. While this relationship may be uncomfortable, there is still value in engaging with it and similar works.

Works Cited

Dhar, Rittika. “Pandora’s Box: The Myth Behind the Popular Idiom.” History Cooperative, 17 August 2022, https://historycooperative.org/pandoras-box/. Accessed 18 November 2023.

Morris, Nick, and Laurance Connor, directors. The Phantom of the Opera at the Royal Albert Hall. Cameron Mackintosh, 2011.

Tyson, Lois. Critical Theory Today: A User Friendly Guide. 2nd ed., Routledge, 2006.

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