#every time I hear this song i just think of her

[scoupsakakitty]

hii I've been twirling my hair while reading your seventeen x 14th member series, bc they are just soo good!!! can I request for svt doing the different types of love language to reader. thank uuu smmm 🤍

Love Languages | Seventeen x 14thMember | fluff

The members of Seventeen, along with their 14th member, Y/N, were seated in a cozy interview studio. The atmosphere was warm and relaxed as the interviewer, a woman with a bright smile, shuffled through her cards before looking up at them.

"Seventeen, welcome! It’s always a pleasure to have you all here," she greeted.

"Thank you for having us!" the group responded in unison.

The interviewer chuckled before turning her attention to Y/N. "Alright, Y/N, this question is actually the most asked one by your fans. Are you ready?"

Y/N let out a playful laugh. "Oh no, should I be scared?"

"Not at all!" the interviewer reassured. "The fans are dying to know: What are the different love languages of the thirteen members of Seventeen?"

Y/N gasped dramatically, making the members laugh. "Oh wow, you’re really putting me on the spot! Okay, okay, let’s do this. I think I know them well enough."

The members leaned in, eager to hear what she had to say.

She started with S.Coups. "Our leader’s love language is definitely acts of service. He always makes sure we’re taken care of—whether it’s ordering food, checking in on our health, or making sure we’re not overworking ourselves."

S.Coups nodded in agreement. "That’s true. Taking care of you guys is my priority."

Next was Jeonghan. "He loves quality time. He’ll casually pull you aside to sit together in silence or ask you to play a game with him. Even if we’re just sitting next to each other doing nothing, he enjoys that."

Jeonghan smirked. "It’s because your company is entertaining."

Joshua, on the other hand, was all about words of affirmation. "He’s always hyping us up, telling us we did great, and reminding us how much he appreciates us."

Joshua laughed. "Well, I mean it every time! You guys are amazing."

Jun, Y/N explained, was a physical touch person. "He’s always hugging people, patting their heads, or just randomly leaning on someone."

Jun grinned. "I just like feeling close to my members!"

Hoshi, on the other hand, had a mix of words of affirmation and physical touch. "He’ll tell you he loves you while aggressively shaking your shoulders."

Hoshi burst out laughing. "That’s how you know I mean it!"

When it came to Wonwoo, Y/N described him as a quality time person. "He won’t say much, but if he invites you to read or watch something with him, that means he loves you."

Wonwoo nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Actions speak louder than words."

Woozi’s love language was acts of service. "He expresses love by writing songs for us and working hard to make sure we have the best music."

Woozi shrugged. "It’s just how I show I care."

DK, Y/N continued, was another words of affirmation king. "He constantly tells us how much he loves and appreciates us."

DK grinned. "Of course! Gotta remind my members how amazing they are."

Mingyu had a mix of physical touch and acts of service. "He’ll cook for you, then give you a backhug while you eat."

Mingyu beamed. "Because food tastes better when shared!"

The8 valued quality time. "He likes deep conversations and spending meaningful time with us, even if it’s just chilling in the practice room."

"It’s all about genuine connections," The8 agreed.

Seungkwan, according to Y/N, was both words of affirmation and acts of service. "He’ll hype you up, but also take care of you like a mom."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes playfully. "Because you all need someone to keep you in check!"

As for Vernon, he was a mix of quality time and physical touch. "He’s very subtle about it, but if he’s sitting next to you for a long time or playfully nudging you, that’s his way of showing love."

Vernon shrugged. "Sounds about right."

And finally, the maknae. "Dino is all about physical touch and words of affirmation. He loves holding hands and hyping us up with little speeches."

Dino grinned proudly. "Because I want everyone to feel happy!"

The interviewer looked impressed. "Wow, that was so detailed! Y/N, you really know your members well."

"Of course! Living with these 13 means you get to know them inside and out," Y/N replied with a smile.

S.Coups grinned mischievously. "We should do this for Y/N next!"

The rest of the group cheered in agreement. "Yes! Next time, we reveal Y/N’s love language!"

The interview ended with laughter, the group teasing Y/N playfully, proving once again just how close they all were.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Their little sunshine p.1

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Alex x reader x Lily, I have planned more parts for this story so I hope you enjoy it :)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The first time Alex Albon met his new physio, he nearly did a double take.

The Williams garage wasn’t exactly the most colorful place—navy blues, whites, and the occasional streak of sponsor red dominated the scene. But she stood out like a soft splash of pink against it all. It wasn’t just her outfit, though her pastel compression top and perfectly coordinated sneakers were a stark contrast to the usual sports gear around. It was the way she carried herself—bubbly, warm, and utterly radiant.

"Alex!" she beamed, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as he approached. "I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you—well, not like that, obviously, but you know what I mean!"

Alex chuckled, a little taken aback by the sheer enthusiasm radiating from her. "I think so?"

She grinned, unfazed. "Don’t worry, you’ll love our sessions. I promise I’ll take the best care of you!"

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but as soon as they started, he realized she wasn’t just all sunshine and chatter—she was good. Her hands were gentle yet firm, her instructions clear but never harsh. And more than anything, there was something about her presence that made it easy to relax.

For the first time in a while, physio sessions didn’t feel like just another part of the job. They felt… comfortable.

It didn’t take long for Alex to start looking forward to their sessions. She had this way of making even the most mundane exercises fun—humming pop songs under her breath, sticking tiny smiley face stickers on his water bottle when she thought he wasn’t hydrating enough, or dramatically gasping when she found a particularly tight knot in his shoulders.

"You’re so tense, Alex!" she scolded one day, hands pressing firmly into his back. "It’s like you’re storing all the stress of the paddock in here."

"Maybe I am," he joked, eyes fluttering shut as her thumbs worked out a particularly stubborn knot. "You’re a miracle worker, though."

She preened at the compliment. "I am pretty great, huh?"

Even Carlos, ever the skeptic, eventually gave in.

"You’re actually magic," he muttered one day, rolling his shoulder after a session. "I don’t know what you did, but I feel like I just slept for a week."

She beamed. "Told you I’d take care of you!"

For Alex, though, it wasn’t just the skill—it was her. She was the kind of person who lit up every room she walked into, and as the season dragged on, with its relentless travel and stress, she became a safe space.

One particularly rough weekend, after a frustrating qualifying session, Alex found himself in the physio room earlier than usual. She glanced up from where she was organizing massage oils, instantly noticing the tension in his posture.

"Tough one?" she asked gently.

Alex exhaled. "Yeah."

She didn’t push him to talk about it, didn’t try to force positivity onto him. Instead, she simply patted the massage table. "C’mon, lie down. Let’s get some of that stress out of your system."

As her hands worked through the knots in his shoulders, he felt himself slowly relax.

"You know," she mused, voice light but comforting, "you’re allowed to have bad days, Alex."

He hummed, eyes closed. "I know."

"Good," she said simply. And somehow, it was exactly what he needed to hear.

It wasn’t until a few races into the season that Alex finally introduced her to Lily.

"You have to meet my girlfriend," he told her one afternoon, stretching out on the massage table as she worked on his legs. "I swear, you two would get along so well."

She blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Lily," he clarified, sitting up from the massage table. "You two would get along so well."

Her lips curled into a smile. "That’s a bold claim."

"I’m serious!" Alex insisted. "You’re both, like… nice. And you make people feel comfortable. And you have this whole cute aesthetic thing going on."

She giggled. "Are you calling me cute, Albon?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just meet her, okay?"

The opportunity came during the Monaco race weekend. After a long, exhausting day in the paddock, Alex invited her to dinner with him and Lily.

She arrived in a soft pink sundress, her hair tied up with a matching ribbon. And the moment she stepped into the restaurant, she was met with a bright, familiar grin.

"Oh my God, you’re adorable!"

The greeting came from none other than Lily. He, stood up from his seat to introduce you to each other but before he could even respond, you had already reached out to hug her.

"You’re so pretty!" you gushed.

"You’re so pretty!" she shot back, already feeling like they had known each other for years.

Alex, watching them with an amused smile, shook his head. "I knew this would happen."

It was instant. Over dinner, they fell into an easy rhythm—talking about everything from skincare to travel to their shared love for making fun of Alex.

"So, how’s he as a physio client?" Lily asked, smirking slightly.

"Oh, such a baby when it comes to deep tissue massages," she teased, making Alex groan.

Lily laughed. "That checks out."

By the end of the night, they had already exchanged numbers, planning a shopping trip for the next free weekend.

And just like that, she wasn’t just Alex’s physio anymore—she was part of their little circle.

A ray of sunshine that fit right in.

[greensagephase]

Flores Amarillas

pairing: husband!miguel o'hara x spouse!reader wc: 713 summary: You always daydreamed about receiving yellow flowers (work's title) on the start of spring. warnings: some Spanish; established relationship note: for more info regarding this work; check the ask!

[lyrics below from the song listed;]

Ella sabía que él sabía [She knew that he knew]

Que algún día pasaría [one day it would happen]

Que vendría a buscarla [That he’d come look for her]

Con sus flores amarillas [With her yellow flowers]

-♡-

You were just a kid when you were already thinking of him. You daydreamed and innocently fantasized about meeting him one day.

He had no name, nor did he have a face.

Yet, you dreamed about him and of yellow flowers.

To be specific, you dreamed of one day receiving yellow flowers from a man who you imagined would be close to a prince charming.

You’d listen to the song “Flores Amarillas” from the famous telenovela and sing it to the best of your ability, daydreaming about having that experience one day; of receiving yellow flowers as a romantic gesture from the love of your life.

Even in your teenage years, this illusion followed you. The unhealthy number of telenovelas you consumed growing up with your parents along with being a hopeless romantic didn't help. During those years, you waited, illusioned that that person would come along. With a pure golden heart, you imagined running one day into him; a man who would be waiting for you with a yellow flower, who would notice the shine in your pupils. You imagined the sun would be out, casting its gentle yellow as you finally crossed paths with that special man.

As time went on, you realized that purely daydreaming about it wouldn't automatically manifest it and you eventually let it go, even when you saw others experience what your child and teenager self yearn so much for.

-♡-

Outside, you hear the birds chirping. Earlier, you noted the blooming flowers in your garden. A gentle yellow, pollen, covers surfaces, inciting spring allergies for many, yet helping the flowers and bees.

You sit on your couch, now many years older amd established, when you rediscover the song while scrolling through your social media. Listening to it, you realize you still remember every word. It almost feels like running into an old friend who you haven't seen in a long, long, long time.

En ese bar tan desierto nos esperaba el encuentro [in that bar so deserted the meet up waited for us]

Ella llegó en limusina amarilla por supuesto [she arrived in a yellow limousine of course]

Él se acercó de repente la miro tan de frente [he approached suddenly looking at her straight ahead]

Toda una vida soñada y no pudo decir nada [an entire life dreamed of and he couldn't say anything]

The scent of his cologne reaches you first before you feel a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. It automatically brings a smile to your face, pulling you away from your thoughts. Still smiling, you look up and meet that warm gaze, warm like yellow and deep like coffee.

“Ella sabía que él sabía, que algún día pasaría [she knew he knew, one day it would happen],” Miguel sings softly with a warm smile.

“Que vendría a buscarla, con sus flores amarillas [That he’d come look for her with her yellow flowers],” you say, finishing that part of the song.

“I remember when that song was so popular,” Miguel comments, gently cupping your face.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. You want to know something, mi vida [my life]?” Miguel asks. “I forgot all about that song until today. It came up on my feed this morning and remembered I once used to imagine, as a kid, finding a beautiful and sweet individual to gift yellow flowers to.”

Chuckling, you caress Miguel’s forearms as he continues to cup your face. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” Miguel answers before leaning forward. He presses a sweet and gentle kiss to your forehead, smiling at you before releasing your face. He reaches behind you to retrieve something, still smiling. “Unas flores amarillas para ti, mi amor [yellows flowers for you, my love],” Miguel murmurs, handing you a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers. “For the most beautiful, sweetest, kindest person in the whole world.”

The sight and scent of the cheerful flowers brightens your day, but Miguel’s words brighten it even more. You accept the flowers, your heart blooming with love and appreciation for the man that you now have the privilege of calling your husband.

You chuckle softly, admiring them while feeling the love from Miguel.

"I knew one day I'd find you," you murmur, finally looking at him again. "After daydreaming of you for so long."

"Y yo por ti [and I about you]," your husband replies, his illusion of gifting flowers to the love of his life, finally accomplished.

Thank you @ashnelyi for the ask!

Thank you so much for reading!

Alondra❤️

divider credit: @enchanthings-a

[monstera-modd]

Ultraluminary

DPxDC #7 DeadTired AU, also a Songfic 

For a visual of what Im’a…trying to describe, here’s the link

_______________

Tim was going to explode! His favorite singer Phantom, was coming to Gotham. He even made sure he got an extra ten hours of sleep, to prepare for the concert. Con was just as excited, and both of them (along with the whole of Young Justice) had scored pit passes to see Phantom live.

They arrived at the venue two hours early, just like they’d planned. Technically, it was to get good spots at the front of the stage for all the performers… but let’s be real– Tim wanted to be as close to Phantom as physically possible.

The air buzzed with anticipation. The sky overhead was dimming toward dusk, and the venue lights flickered to life, casting golden beams across the crowd. People were jittery, loud, and booming with excitement. But Tim’s nerves felt different, he wasn’t just excited. He was wired, on edge, like something electric was coiled tight inside him.

His heartbeat had been climbing all day, not just from the adrenaline of the concert, but from the thought of seeing Phantom in person.

Hearing that voice live. 

Seeing his smile. 

Feeling whatever strange, magnetic pull that voice always had on him—but this time, face to face.

The first performer to hit the stage was Spectra. Her haunting voice swept over the crowd, quieting them instantly.

She opened with a slow, melancholic melody, her voice threading through the air like mist. Every note was bittersweet, aching with beauty. The kind of sound that curled around your ribs and squeezed.

Tim found himself holding his breath through parts of it, his heart beating in time with the hollow echo of her voice. He noticed Con quietly wiping at his eyes halfway through the second song, and honestly? Tim couldn’t blame him. Her music didn’t just tug at your heartstrings– it played them like a violin.

When Spectra’s set ended, the crowd clapped softly, reverently, as if afraid to break the spell she'd cast.

Tim exhaled, realizing he’d been gripping the barrier at the front without noticing. His palms were sweaty. He wasn’t even to the main event yet, and he already felt undone.

Then, all at once– Ember stormed the stage like lightning.

A thunderous chord split the air as her guitar roared to life, wild and electric. The speakers shook under the weight of her sound, each riff scorching through the air like fire made music. She didn’t just play– she owned the stage, strutting across it with the kind of effortless swagger that turned chaos into art.

The crowd exploded into motion, a tidal wave of movement crashing against the rhythm. Ember was a storm in leather and flame, her voice a howl of rebellion that wrapped around the crowd and refused to let go.

Cassie lost it completely.

She was shrieking the lyrics like they were gospel, arms in the air, hair flying as she headbanged and danced without a shred of self-consciousness. She grabbed Wally by the shoulders, shaking him with wild enthusiasm until he finally gave in and started jumping beside her, laughing.

“You don’t get it!” she shouted over the music, practically vibrating with joy. “She’s a legend! Ember was my entire villain era– LOOK AT HER!”

Wally grinned, eyes wide as he tried to keep up with her energy. “I am looking! I think I’m witnessing a religious experience!”

Cassie didn’t hear him. She was too busy air-guitaring along, eyes shining with awe every time Ember hit another screaming note. Her voice was fire, her presence pure magnetism– fierce, beautiful, untouchable.

Tim laughed, the sound half-swallowed by the crowd, but still warm. There was a buzz under his skin now– a steady, pulsing anticipation. Ember’s energy was contagious, but the real reason his pulse wouldn’t settle was because next… was Phantom.

As Ember’s final song hit its climax, she spun her guitar around her back in one smooth, defiant motion and strutted to center stage. Sweat glistened on her skin under the stage lights, her eyes blazing with the high of performance.

She raised her arms high and shouted into the mic, voice still crackling with adrenaline. “Y’ALL KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS!”

The crowd erupted, deafening.

“GOTHAM CITY! MAKE SOME NOISE FOR THE ONE! THE ONLY! PHANTOM!”

The lights cut out in an instant. A thin curtain dropped from the ceiling, casting the stage in silhouette.

The cheering reached a fever pitch– screams, stomps, whistles, cries of “WE LOVE YOU!” echoing into the darkness. It was pure chaos, pure electricity.

And Tim… Tim’s breath caught.

In the suspended hush between the cheers and whatever came next, his heart thundered in his chest. That tiny pause felt like it stretched forever, holding him still in its grip.

Then– A breath through a microphone.

The sound alone sent a shiver down Tim’s spine, sharp and sudden, like the world itself had inhaled with him.

The crowd fell quiet.

“I'm the light, every night in your world…”

That voice.

That voice.

It hit him like gravity. Smooth and silken, wrapped in a depth of emotion that settled in his bones and pulled tight around his chest like a velvet ribbon. There was something rich and haunting in it– rising and falling like the tide, aching and beautiful in every syllable.

Tim’s heart clenched. He’d never heard anything like it.

A soft glow began to bloom on the stage, a wash of blue light illuminating a figure behind the curtain– silhouetted, ethereal.

“Are you ready to watch me be leg-en-dary?”

The figure moved, arm raised high in a bold, elegant pose– singing into what looked like a microphone.

“'Cause I'm… ultra-luminary.”

With a sweep across his body, the veils dropped– timed perfectly with the thrum of the first beat. Light cascaded like a waterfall, revealing Phantom in full.

And Tim forgot how to breathe.

Phantom smirked beneath lashes dusted in glitter that shimmered like stardust, casting celestial sparks around his vivid green eyes. His outfit shimmered in deep hues of blues, indigos, and rich violets that rippled like a galaxy draped across his skin. Every movement sent his fabric trailing behind him in waves, and the very air seemed to warp around his presence.

Tim was spellbound…completely, hopelessly frozen. So close. He was so close. If he just reached out–

A sudden push from the crowd knocked him forward, shoving him straight to the front of the T-shaped stage. The pulse of bass echoed in his ribs, but all he could see was Phantom.

Phantom tossed the fake microphone into the audience with a grin, striding confidently down the extended runway. His steps matched the beat, his hands swinging with graceful intention.

“You wish on me in my glitter light, First star you see tonight…”

He pointed toward the distant horizon, foot dragging gently along the stage with the melody’s pull, like painting light with movement.

“So wish away– wish with all your might Upon this radiant sight.”

Phantom threw his head back in a sweeping motion, then spun in a dazzling flare of color. His hands sparked with glowing light, and as he dropped smoothly to the stage floor, brilliant beams burst outward from his fingertips, piercing the blue atmosphere with radiant streaks of pink and orange.

The audience screamed in delight, but Tim could barely hear it. The world had narrowed down to this: light, sound, color… and him.

“The stars Ignite, They flame from dust Born out of gravity and force– they combust…”

The beat dropped into a low, pulsing thrum that vibrated through the floor and straight into Tim’s chest. His breath caught, his heart pounding in time with the rhythm, pupils blown wide as Phantom moved closer.

Swaying. Flowing. Every step like a ripple through liquid light.

Phantom swept down the strip with effortless grace, closing the distance, and Tim’s whole body leaned forward, drawn like a moth to flame.

He stopped right at the edge of the stage.

Right in front of him.

Tim looked up, caught in the gravitational pull of him, and the world narrowed down to Phantom’s silhouette bathed in starlight.

Backup dancers rose seamlessly from hidden platforms, flanking him with perfectly synchronized movements, their voices layering in sweet, high harmonies.

“And though they try…in ri-val-ry They’ll never shine bright as me.”

The lights suddenly went black.

Tim's breath hitched.

Phantom held the final note, arms rising in slow reverence… and then, with a single, dramatic throw downward, the stage exploded into blinding bursts of white, pink, and yellow, washing the entire stadium in light.

His outfit shimmered again, colors shifting, reflecting the explosion like a living aurora. He had become a supernova incarnate.

“I’m the light every night in your world– Eh”

Phantom pointed directly into the crowd, his body bending down low before rising back up in a fluid arc, hips rolling effortlessly as he danced across the stage’s edge. The backup dancers followed him like orbiting satellites, flawless and entranced.

And for a heartbeat, Tim could swear Phantom’s eyes locked onto his.

His breath hitched –cheeks flushing hot– and somewhere behind him, he faintly heard Conner’s laugh, low and teasing.

But he couldn’t look away.

“You revel in the glory of my beau–ty”

Phantom shimmered, dragging one hand slowly across his face, fingers trailing like liquid light. His eyes flared brighter, almost glowing. Then he raised his leg in a dramatic kick forward, stepping into a powerful pose, dragging his hand up the length of his own body.

Tim’s gaze followed every motion, helplessly caught in the slow, sensuous gravity of it.

This… this being wasn’t just a performer.

He was a celestial event.

A deity wrapped in stardust and soundwaves. And Tim…Tim would kneel, would offer up his soul if it meant getting closer.

To feel.

To hold.

To touch.

“Ya ready to watch me be le-gen-dary?

'Cause I'm ultra-lumi-nary.”

Phantom spun around, and the screen behind him lit up, catching the motion in perfect clarity. Even with his back to the crowd –back to Tim– the camera zoomed in on his face, capturing the sly smirk and the teasing shrug he tossed at the lens.

The audience screamed.

And then…he launched.

Phantom shot upward, soaring off the stage like a burst of cosmic light. His laughter rang out above the beat, bright and joyful, as he twirled mid-air arms spread wide, trailing glittering streaks behind him.

He danced across the open sky like a star set free, and Tim… Tim was falling.

“Whoa… Wel-come to Lu-na-ria Whoa… So Spec-ta-cularia”

Many more screens lit up all around the stadium, like constellations blinking into existence. Each one shimmered with Phantom’s dazzling smile as he flew along the outer walls, trailing sparklers in his wake like a rocket launching into space.

“Whoa… Super Sin-gu-lary”

Phantom soared in a graceful arc, then descended slowly toward center stage, lowered on a hidden platform. He didn’t miss a beat– didn’t stumble, didn’t even breathe wrong. He glided, slipping effortlessly into the next movement. Arms raised in a dramatic flex toward the crowd, then swept high above his head before cascading low in a fluid ripple through his torso.

With one hand on his hip, he pointed out to the chaotic, euphoric sea of fans in every direction. Then he spun his hand in a loop, pressing it against his chest and crossing both arms into an X, winking playfully at the nearest camera.

“‘Cause I’m so Very Very

Extra-ordi-naria”

The crowd screamed, a tidal wave of sound crashing into the stage. Tim felt dizzy from the sheer intensity of it all.The lights, the music, the energy thrumming in his bones like a second heartbeat. His fingers curled against the barricade in front of him, clutching it like an anchor.

There was a brief pause in the music as a spotlight swept to the side stage.

A DJ stood behind a set of turntables, bathed in golden light. He wore a red beanie and a dark blue button-down shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Short dreadlocks framed his face, warm-toned skin catching hints of the light display still strobing in blues, pinks, and yellows.

One hand pressed a headphone to his ear, the other flicking and spinning expertly across the console, each movement subtle but confident, shaping the entire pulse of the show with flicks of his wrist and taps of his fingers.

Tim barely noticed him.

But Wally? Wally definitely did.

Even now, with the DJ’s booth dimming again as the spotlight faded, Wally’s eyes lingered on that corner of the stage, a quiet grin on his lips.

Tim would’ve teased him– if he could look away from Phantom long enough to form a coherent sentence.

“The cosmic shine of my fine display

Can turn the Night to Day”

The lights slowly shifted, bleeding from galactic neons into soft gradients of peach and rose gold, mimicking the glow of a rising sun. Phantom ascended with it, higher than before, bathed in the morning light. His silhouette floated in a swirl of lavender, white, and the faintest dusting of orange; like sunrise painted into motion.

“I hear they say that the Milky Way Can't help but envy me”

He twirled in slow, lazy circles, each movement dripping with confidence, every step and flick of his fingers divine. He held his hand out in a dramatic flourish, head bobbing with a lidded gaze and a smug, dazzling grin that made Tim’s stomach twist with heat.

That grin could end empires.

And then Phantom spun –faster, brighter– arms thrown wide as he rose even higher, a glowing white light rising with him like the first star of a brand new dawn.

Tim felt breathless.

Completely and utterly wrecked.

“I am the Brigh-test Star

Superb Spec-tacular…”

Phantom tilted backward… then suddenly dropped.

It was like a wire snapped. A high note rang out –sharp, jarring– and then nothing.

The music vanished. The lights blinked out.

For a moment, the stadium was swallowed in silence.

Gasps echoed from every direction. Uneasy murmurs swept through the crowd like a rising tide.

And then, a dim green glow flickered to life on the stage.

Phantom was kneeling, bowed low, hands braced on the floor like he was in mourning or prayer. His freckles shimmered faintly in the dark, barely illuminating the sorrow carved into his face.

A low beat began to thrum again– soft, slow, like a heartbeat pulled from the wreckage of grief.

“It was a desert on the Moon... When… We... Ar-rived

Gathering all of my tears, heart-break and sighs”

Tim’s breath hitched.

His chest clenched tight as Phantom lifted his head, glowing green tears streaking down his cheeks. They slipped into his cupped palms, forming a soft, shimmering puddle ��grief made visible, grief made beautiful– until the tears began to rise, floating gently into the air.

They curled upward in spirals, slow and reverent, trailing like stardust through the air.

And Phantom rose with them.

He didn’t move like a performer anymore… he moved like a spirit in mourning, following the path of his sorrow through the stars.

“Tuck made a potion Ignite and Tur-ned the Night

To a Ra-diant City of Light”

The tears –no, the galaxy– shifted into swirling hues of color: pinks, purples, blues, golds. They danced in graceful spins and turns above the audience, encircling Phantom in a spiral of light. He hung at the center of it, delicate and radiant, like the eye of a sorrow-born nebula.

Tim could hardly breathe.

Around him, he heard sniffles…quiet gasps, soft sobs, people trying to hold it in and failing. And he wasn’t any better.

His eyes stung, vision blurring through tears he hadn’t even realized were falling. His cheeks were damp, catching the colored lights and reflecting them like glass. He hiccuped –sharp, involuntary– and clenched his jaw to keep another from slipping out. His whole body trembled, shoulders shaking as he held himself together by threads.

And still, Phantom rose.

“From tears I Rise!

I Rise!”

From the center of that luminous constellation, Phantom surged into motion, trailing light behind him like a comet’s tail. He streaked across the stage, over the crowd, a radiant streak of motion and color and sorrow reborn.

The crowd’s voices rose with him– soft at first, then louder, catching the echo of his words like a lifeline.

Tim looked up, eyes swollen and burning, heart wide open and cracked down the middle. Phantom was a force of nature, a miracle.

He was the ache in Tim’s chest made manifest, wrapped in starlight.

“I’m the light every night in your world– Eh

You revel in the glory of my beau–ty”

Phantom landed back on stage with effortless grace, dancers surrounding him in synchronized motion. Behind him, the jumbo screen projected every perfect step, every flick of his hands, every breathtaking close-up of his face.

Tim had been jostled back a few rows during the crowd’s earlier rush, but he barely noticed. His body moved on autopilot, weaving between people with numb determination until he found his spot again– right where he started.

Then he looked up.

And his heart stopped.

“Ya ready to watch me be le-gen-dary?

'Cause I'm ultra-lumi-nary.”

As Phantom drew out the last word, he raised his arm and pointed directly into the crowd.

Directly at Tim.

Their eyes locked, and the world around them faded.

A slow, knowing grin curved Phantom’s lips as he began descending down the stage again, hips swaying, steps fluid, rhythmic. The chorus echoed behind him, voices and lights swelling in tandem– but Phantom only had eyes for him.

“So Spec-tacularia”

The grin widened when he caught sight of Tim’s face– completely stunned, flushed, eyes wide like he’d been struck by lightning.

“Whoa… Super Singulary”

Phantom stopped at the edge of the stage, just a few feet above him.

Tim stared up, breath held tight in his lungs. His heart was a thunderclap, pounding so loud it nearly drowned the music.

And then Phantom leaned down –slow, smooth, like a secret unfurling– and reached out.

Fingertips brushed under Tim’s chin, tilting it gently upward.

The touch was featherlight, reverent, like he’d been waiting for this.

“‘Cause I’m so Very Very

Extra-ordi-naria”

The last note rang out, echoing into stillness.

But Phantom didn’t let go.

For a second, it was just them. Stage lights casting halos. Phantom’s fingers still resting beneath Tim’s chin, eyes soft and warm now– softer than they’d ever been in the performance. Almost fond.

A small, tilted smile curled on his lips. “Star-struck, baby?”

Tim choked on a breath and nodded, couldn’t even pretend to be smooth about it. He was red-faced and trembling and absolutely wrecked. He followed the movement of Phantom’s hand as he let go and stepped back, body still humming from the brief contact.

The crowd roared, but Tim barely heard it over the racing beat of his own pulse.

Phantom turned with a dazzling flourish, arms stretched wide to the audience. “Thank you for having me, Gotham City!”

The stadium erupted into thunderous applause. 

“And let’s give a big thanks to my lovely openers– Spectra and Ember!”

The two women stepped forward with elegant bows, basking in the crowd’s adoration. Phantom slung an arm around them easily, still glittering in the spotlight.

Tim just stood there.

Still.

Dazed.

That touch –that smile, that look– it hadn’t been part of the show. It couldn’t have been.

He could still feel it. Right there on his chin. Like fire and electricity wrapped in a ghost’s kiss.

Phantom glanced back once more before leaving the stage– eyes finding his with precision.

Another smirk.

Brighter than starlight.

“Bye, baby~.”

And then he was gone.

________________________________

I feel like I was typing the same sentence over and over again 🫠

But this was fun! I’ve never done a song fic before and let me tell you it was… an experience, that honestly took me like a week to finish ✊🏼

[bigheadbrooke-9]

⋆✴︎˚｡Never understood✶⋆.˚

Eddie Munson x plus size!reader

Summary: Bullied for your body all your life, you struggled to speak, to make friends, to exist without judgment. High school brought relief—until senior year, when the torment returned, crushing your spirit.But Eddie Munson was always there. Your best friend, your safe haven. And though he saw himself as just that, your heart knew better. With him, you were never just enough—you were everything. Until you broke.

Warnings : Bullying, Harassment, yelling crying, talks about Ed, Eddie being an absolute sweetheart, use of y/n fluff

As I raised my hand to answer the difficult question on the board, Carol’s sharp voice cut through the classroom.

“Of course, she’s going to raise her hand,” she sneered. “But she can’t even raise a weight.”

Laughter rippled through her side of the room. She smirked, exchanging a triumphant high-five with Kate, their amusement at my expense evident. My hand wavered for a moment before I let it fall back to my desk. If they didn’t want my help, then I wouldn’t give it. Let them struggle with the answer on their own.

Miss Kelly glanced up from her desk, scanning the room. “Let’s see… who haven’t I called on today?”

I sighed inwardly, already knowing the answer. I was one of the only students who consistently participated, so I knew I’d be chosen. I rested my head against my hand, bracing myself for what would come next.

“I bet Y/N knows,” Kate chimed in, her voice dripping with mockery. “It probably has something to do with food.”

Another wave of laughter echoed around the room. My stomach twisted. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? I had never done anything to them. I barely even spoke to them, yet they took every opportunity to tear me down. I clenched my jaw and turned my gaze to the wall, trying to steady my breathing.

But before I could shrink any further into myself, Miss Kelly’s voice rang out, sharp and unwavering.

“Y/N is the only person passing my class,” she said firmly, her eyes locking onto Kate. “And you’re the one thinking about food right now, considering this says ‘atoms and not apples.’ I suggest you stop trying to bully my students.”

The room fell silent. Carol and Kate looked stunned, clearly not expecting to be called out so directly. I glanced at them just in time to catch the glare Kate shot me, while Carol merely rolled her eyes. I smirked slightly, satisfied with the turn of events.

Miss Kelly’s voice softened as she turned back to me. “Y/N, would you mind answering the question? You always explain things so well.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, clearing my throat before speaking. I answered the question quickly and clearly, providing a brief explanation as I went. Miss Kelly smiled approvingly and gave me a small nod.

Behind me, I heard the unmistakable sound of scoffs and whispers. But I ignored them. Let them talk.

I just couldn’t wait to get out of here.

Eddie had to stay behind today for a Hellfire campaign, which meant I had to walk home alone. Normally, he would never allow that—he was fiercely protective, always insisting on driving me or walking with me, no matter how inconvenient it was for him. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. As far as he was concerned, I’d just tell him my mom or dad picked me up.

Shrugging my backpack higher onto my shoulders, I pushed open the heavy school doors and stepped outside. The late afternoon air was crisp, the sun beginning its slow descent, casting an orange glow over the pavement. My house was only about ten minutes away—a convenience I had always appreciated. I took a deep breath and started across the parking lot, my steps steady, my mind occupied with the soft tune I began humming under my breath.

It was one of Eddie’s unreleased songs, a melody I had memorized just from hearing him strum it absentmindedly during lunch breaks or in his room. Even without lyrics, the song was beautiful—haunting in a way only Eddie’s music could be. I loved it.

Lost in thought, I almost didn’t notice the sound of tires screeching softly against the pavement. My humming faltered as I turned my head, my stomach twisting when I saw a sleek red car rolling up beside me. My heart sank the moment I recognized it.

Carol.

A loud groan escaped me before I could stop it. As if the day hadn’t been bad enough, now I had to deal with her and her little entourage. The passenger-side window rolled down, followed by the backseat, and immediately, I was met with the sound of laughter—sharp, cruel giggles that sent a shiver down my spine.

“First time exercising, huh?” Carol’s voice was sickly sweet, her grin lopsided as she leaned against the door, watching me like I was some kind of joke.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to keep walking. Normally, I ignored them—I let their words slide off me like water, let their laughter ring in my ears without giving them the satisfaction of a reaction. But not today.

Today, I was done.

Exhaling sharply, I came to a stop, rubbing a hand down my face before turning to look at them. My voice was calm, steady—colder than even I expected when I finally spoke.

“You know,” I said, tilting my head, “with the number of guys you’ve been with, there’s about an 85 percent chance you have HSV-1.” I let the words settle for a second before adding, “That’s herpes, in case you didn’t know.”

Silence.

Carol’s smirk vanished in an instant, her expression twisting from amusement to fury. The other girls in the car stared, their laughter cut short, their faces a mixture of shock and discomfort.

For a split second, I thought that maybe—just maybe—they’d let it go. That I’d finally shut them up.

But then Carol’s lips curled into something even more dangerous.

Before I could react, she reached into the car and grabbed something from the seat beside her.

I barely had time to flinch before a balloon came hurtling toward me, bursting on impact. A thick, sticky substance exploded across my body, splattering against my skin, soaking into my clothes, dripping down my arms and legs.

It took me a moment to register what had just happened.

And then I saw it.

Red.

Bright, sickeningly vibrant red paint, splattered across my face, my hair, my clothes—seeping into the fabric, trickling down onto the pavement beneath me.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

A sharp, choked noise escaped my throat—a half-formed scream, raw and disbelieving. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. It had to be a nightmare.

But the cruel laughter echoing from the car told me otherwise.

Tears burned in my eyes, mixing with the wet paint as they slid down my cheeks. The car sped off, their laughter fading into the distance, leaving me standing there—humiliated, frozen, the paint drying and cracking against my skin.

And then, the sobs broke free.

Loud. Ugly. Uncontrollable.

I had to get home.

Eddie’s pov

The campaign meeting had just wrapped up, and the energy in the room was electric. Laughter and high-fives were exchanged as we celebrated another legendary session. The guys were still buzzing with excitement, recounting their best moments, and I couldn’t help but grin. These nights were what I lived for—getting lost in the world we created, surrounded by my friends, with nothing to worry about.

At least, that’s what I thought.

“Oh, Eddie, can I talk to you real quick?”

Dustin’s voice cut through the noise, and the seriousness in his tone hit me like a slap. The kid was always full of energy, always running his mouth about something, but now? Now, he was quiet. Controlled. And that made my stomach twist.

He grabbed my sleeve and pulled me toward the school doors, his grip tighter than usual.

“What’s up, kid?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to read his expression. His face was tense, his usual excitement nowhere to be found. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

“Why didn’t you take Y/N home today?”

Shit.

My heart dropped to my stomach. I was supposed to drive her home. I always drove her home. It was an unspoken rule between us—because her parents didn’t get back until late, and I hated the idea of her walking alone. But tonight, I’d been so caught up in the campaign that I completely forgot.

“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “I forgot. Why?”

Dustin hesitated. That hesitation made my chest tighten. The kid never hesitated. If he wasn’t running his mouth, something was wrong.

“When she was walking home,” he started, shifting uncomfortably, “I was locking up my bike, and I saw Carol and Kate… and a couple of their friends.”

Everything inside me went still.

Carol. Kate. Those pieces of shit.

I already knew where this was going. I had seen how they treated Y/N—heard the whispers, caught the cruel laughter in the hallways, seen the way she shrunk into herself when they passed by. It made me sick. I hated them. Hated how they latched onto her like leeches, feeding off her pain for their own amusement.

And I hated that I wasn’t there to stop it.

“What did they do?” My voice was low, steady—but there was a sharpness underneath, a dangerous edge that made Dustin shift under my gaze.

“They…” He swallowed hard, looking away. “They threw paint on her.”

My blood ran cold.

They did what?

For a second, I thought I misheard him. That maybe my brain refused to process the words. Y/N never talked about how bad things got. I knew she was tired—I saw it in the way she carried herself, the way she avoided talking about school, the way she forced that little smile like it would be enough to convince me she was fine.

But she wasn’t.

And now, they had humiliated her.

Publicly.

A slow, simmering rage started to build in my chest, spreading like wildfire. My jaw clenched, my fists curling so tight my knuckles turned white.

Carol and her friends thought they could get away with this. That no one would stop them. That she would stay quiet, just like always.

Not this time.

Without another word, I pushed myself off the wall and started walking. Fast.

“Eddie, wait—no, don’t—” Dustin called after me, but his voice became muffled as I picked up my pace.

I didn’t stop. I didn’t hesitate.

I hopped into my van, slammed the door shut, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, the sound vibrating through my bones. My grip on the steering wheel was so tight my fingers ached, but I didn’t care.

They were going to regret this.

I peeled out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement, my only thought being find her.

Y/n’s pov

The second I stepped into my room, the weight of everything hit me all at once. My body felt heavy, exhausted from the walk home, from the humiliation, from the burning stares that had followed me. My clothes clung to my skin, the thick red paint dried and cracked in some places, sticky in others. The scent of it filled my nose—chemical, suffocating, a physical reminder of their cruelty.

I stood in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection as the reality of what had happened settled in. My chest tightened, a sob clawing its way up my throat. Without thinking, I started peeling off my clothes, yanking them away as though that would somehow erase what had been done to me. My socks were practically ripped off in frustration, my fingers shaking as I pulled at the fabric. I wanted it gone. I wanted this feeling gone.

Why me?

What did I do to deserve this?

Would it stop if I lost weight? Would people finally treat me like a normal human being if I wasn’t this?

I bit my lip, fighting the lump in my throat as I stepped into the shower. The moment the hot water hit my skin, streaks of red swirled down the drain, mixing with my tears. The paint stained my hands, my arms, my hair—no matter how much I scrubbed, it felt like it was still there.

Like they were still there.

Their laughter echoed in my mind, their taunts wrapping around me like a vice. It was never-ending. No matter how much I kept my head down, no matter how hard I tried to be invisible, they always noticed. They always made it a point to remind me that I was different.

That I wasn’t enough.

I lost track of time, only realizing how long I had been standing under the water when the steam in the bathroom made it difficult to breathe. My skin was raw from scrubbing, my face puffy, my eyes barely open from all the crying. My head throbbed—a dull, rhythmic pounding, like my brain was trying to escape my skull.

Slowly, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel before slipping into a pair of comfortable clothes. My hands were still trembling as I moved toward my mirror, my breath unsteady.

I hesitated before looking at my reflection.

I didn’t look that bad, did I?

But that voice in my head—the one that had been planted there after years of ridicule—whispered back at me. Nobody likes fat girls.

That’s what I always thought.

That’s what they made me believe.

I ran my hands over my arms, gripping the soft flesh beneath my fingertips, tugging at it as if I could somehow make it disappear. My vision blurred again as I covered my face with my hands. I hated this. I hated me. And it was all I could think about, all I could feel, all I could be.

The sound of my bedroom door opening made me flinch. I barely had time to wipe my tears before I saw him.

Eddie.

His hair was messier than usual, strands sticking to his flushed face. His breathing was uneven, like he had run straight here. But what caught me off guard the most was the look in his eyes—pure, unfiltered rage. It wasn’t a look he wore often.

He didn’t hesitate.

He closed the distance between us in seconds, wrapping me in the tightest hug I had ever received. His arms were strong, unyielding, as if he was trying to hold me together, trying to protect me from something that had already shattered me.

And that made me cry even harder.

I clung to him, burying my face in his chest, my body shaking with sobs. He held me closer, one hand cradling the back of my head while the other rested against my back, grounding me.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” His voice was rough, thick with emotion. He pulled back just enough to search my face, his brown eyes scanning every inch of me. “Why did they do that to you?”

I was so tired.

So angry.

So done.

“They’ve been doing this for years, Eddie,” I admitted, my voice breaking. “Every damn day. But this year? Senior year has been nothing but hell for me.” I took a shaky breath, my hands falling to my sides as the words poured out of me—years of pain, years of silence breaking all at once. “I go to school, I do my work, I don’t even talk to anyone—I mind my business—and I still get bullied. Every single day. And why? Because I’m fat. That’s all it takes, Eddie. It’s not because I’m mean or because I don’t have a good personality. It’s because of this.” I gestured to my body, my voice rising. “They don’t like me because I take up too much space. They don’t like me because I don’t look like them. They talk about me like I’m some kind of disease, like I’m nothing but my weight.”

Eddie’s face fell.

He had never seen me like this. He had never heard me yell—especially not at him. But I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“No one understands how I feel,” I whispered, my voice raw. “How much it affects me. I don’t want to go to school anymore, Eddie. I can’t.”

Silence.

I turned away, walking to my bed, feeling completely drained. I didn’t even care if he responded. I had nothing left in me.

For a long moment, Eddie didn’t say anything. And then—

“I didn’t know.” His voice was quiet but firm. “I didn’t know how bad it was, Y/N.”

I heard him step closer, but I didn’t look at him.

“Do you really think—if I knew—that I would’ve let you go through that alone?” His voice wavered slightly, but there was an undeniable anger simmering beneath it. “They’re assholes, Y/N. Assholes who have nothing better to do than tear you down because they’re miserable. And you wanna know the truth? You’re not the problem. Not even close.”

I finally turned to face him. His hands were clenched into fists, his jaw tight, but his eyes… they were filled with something deep. Something real.

“You are, without a doubt, the kindest, most amazing person at Hawkins High,” he said, his voice unwavering. “And I don’t just say that because you’re my best friend. You are good. You don’t tear people down. You don’t talk shit. You don’t deserve this. Any of this.”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Your body? Beautiful. You? Beautiful. And I know—I know there’s only so much I can do. But I am here. No matter what.”

Tears burned at my eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness. They were from something else.

Something like hope.

“It’s always been like this,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ever since I was a kid. Ever since I was old enough to notice the way people looked at me.” I hesitated before pulling back just enough to look up at him. “You ever had people talk about you like you weren’t even there? Like you were just—a thing?”

His expression darkened instantly. “Yeah,” he said without hesitation. “Yeah, I have.”

Of course, he had. Eddie Munson wasn’t exactly treated kindly by Hawkins High either. People called him a freak, a loser, a dropout. He knew what it felt like to be othered.

But I shook my head. “It’s different,” I said. “People judge you for who you are. They make fun of you because of your music, your style, the way you talk. That’s something you do. Something you choose.” My voice trembled. “I never chose this, Eddie.”

His whole body tensed. His hands, which had been resting on my back, tightened his grip just slightly—like he was physically restraining himself from getting up and fixing everything right now.

“They talk about me like I’m wrong,” I continued,“Like my body is some kind of punishment, or a joke. It doesn’t matter what I do. If I wear something baggy, I’m ‘hiding my fat.’ If I wear something nice, I ‘shouldn’t be flaunting it.’ If I eat too little, I’m ‘trying too hard to be skinny.’ If I eat normally, I’m ‘overeating.’” My jaw clenched. “Nothing I do is right.”

Eddie exhaled sharply, like he had been holding his breath the entire time I was talking. “Jesus, Y/N.” His voice was thick with emotion.

I let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t see it because they don’t do it around you. They know better.” I looked up at him again. “But when you’re not there? It’s bad. And I just… stopped telling you. Because what was the point? What could you even do?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists against the sheets. “I could’ve done something,” he ground out. “I would’ve.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to. You already get shit from people. I didn’t want to drag you into my problems.”

“You are not a problem. You are not some burden I have to deal with. You are my best goddamn friend, Y/N. The only reason I’m pissed is because I didn’t know. Because I should’ve. Because I should’ve been there.” His thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t even realized had fallen. “And you never have to hide this shit from me again. Ever.”

I swallowed, feeling my throat close up again.

He meant it.

Every single word.

I really needed him.

Hey everyone, I’m starting to get a request and I was wondering if you guys wanted an 100 follower special if you do just re-blog or comment and if you put in a request, it will be done by the end of the week. Thank you so much. See you guys next week. <3

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

You are in love x cowboy like me

Another point for Cowboy Like Me! And You Are In Love for that matter. I was so sure I’d just done this one but realized those were both Maroon x Cowboy Like Me and Fresh Out The Slammer x You Are In Love 😂

She sounds like one very, very happy girl, Ngl.

Not unlike the Maroon x Cowboy Like Me mashup, she uses the first song to show the beginnings of a new love, the tentative first moments that turn into a deep love, and then Cowboy Like Me comes in to show someone unexpectedly finding that love they didn’t think they’d ever find, only to end up with their forever.

The theme is: You can see it with the lights out, you’re a cowboy like me, and you’re in love, true love.

I loooooooooove “You understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars, and why I’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words… Now you hang from my lips like the gardens of Babylon, with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.” That sums up the whole thing! She DID finally find that love, and put it into words! The “hang from my lips” bit is such a fun unexpected double meaning, because there’s the surface level imagery of a sensual moment, but there’s also a secondary meaning like hanging on every word she says. Not only is the cowboy hanging from her lips in the actual (physical) sense, but he’s also the name (forever the name) on her lips, and the love she can talk (and sing) about forever. Again, HER MIND! 🤌

I’m also so intrigued by how in the final pre-chorus of CLM, she changes it from “I” to “you”: You had some tricks up your sleeve, takes one to know one… but you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the lights out, you’re a cowboy like me, and you’re in love. It’s almost like, in the original version of the song, she’s the instigator (or the mastermind, if you will), but in this version, it’s her cowboy counterpart who makes the move, and knows the way he feels. (Almost as though perhaps… He knew what he wanted and boy he got her. Hmm.) Of course, she might have also just done that to match the section from CLM with the “you” in “you are in love.” Still works for me!

I also just realized she skipped the bridge of Cowboy Like Me this time! In this version, no skeletons plotted hard to fuck this up! They just had the same tricks up their sleeves because they’re both bandits with eyes full of stars hustling for the good life together and they’re cowboys and they’re in love! Idk sometimes a girl just has to be stupid happy with 60k of her besties.

In the end it comes down to: you know what this is, and this is love, and you love me as much as I love you. How warmie is that?!

[inexorablyinsecure]

Noticing the nervous tick, Sinclair leaned into her hand, a little; hoping to calm it slightly, by applying a little bit of pressure to the hand. His own still ached, stung, and spasmed lightly at every motion, but he could ignore it well enough for now. Instead, he simply nodded along as she spoke. Her tone is something approaching normal, but the vocal actuator has a slight distortion to it.

Worry.

Fear.

Pain.

He’s heard it many times, and he… Knows that in her, it means that she doesn’t want to think about the cause, most likely. She was always the sort to turn a blind eye to what was bothering her. To avoid it, lest it make her mood worse. So, he would continue to do what he had been trying to do the entire time. He would continue to do the only thing he reasonably could, given he could only assume this would be another timed ‘event’ like Guido had been.

He would give her a distraction.

Mmm… We don’t, um… We don’t always sing it, out loud,

He laughed a little, as he leaned into her hands; not away from the embrace, but enough to make his arms tighten a little. It was… Comfortable sitting like this, all things considered.

I think… Rodya was the first one to do it. She said it was a good way to get the energy after a successful mission out. She then made Gregor do it, saying something like… “C’mon, Greg~ Yours wasn’t successful, but you shouldn’t miss out, yeah?~”

He paused then, closing his eyes.

…I didn’t sing mine out, for everyone to hear. I think… I laid in my bed, and listened to the recording of the song we had. From Rodya, from Gregor… And I just listened to it, for what felt like hours the night after I returned to my room. Staring at the endless, black sky which stretched above…

He trailed off. Voice tapering off, for a moment.

I think… I think it’s just come to mean something different for each of us. It’s… It’s something comforting for me, at least. Um... Sorry if- Sorry if it was a bit sudden.

M!A your now in a fully body prosthetic and or have limbs replaced with prosthetics depending on what the mod decides for 3 days

Huh...?

[There is pure fear in the only noise Kromer is able to make before her body changes. It's almost as if she changes into an identity, the sound of film being wound and a black shadow falls over the 11th Sinner before her body changes to that of metallic skin. Her head appears like a cube-- similar to Sinclair's own mother-- but in the center of her face is a single grey camera lense. The eye stares at Sinclair in shock, her mind not yet caught up to the reality of the situation.]

[Kromer... can't breathe. Her body is heavy, her brain having to work extra hard to move the unfamiliar weight of her new limbs. Kromer feels nothing of what makes her feel human. Small imperfections of her body that she took pride in even if they were inconvenient: the slight ache in her neck after a long days work, the hunger that came with the Sinner's Meal Rations, even her limited vision due to her hairstyle. It all was gone. Disappeared out of her hands in seconds.]

[Kromer can see colors more vividly than she thought was possible, she can hear down the bus' corridors and into her coworker's rooms. Kromer can't even blink or close her eyes to get away from this. It's all too much. The things others would count as blessings... They became Kromer's shackles. Her choice to be a human was torn away from her.]

A...aha...hhh..

[Kromer's voice didn't even sound like her own. A certain buzz rang through the air, her voice being joined with an unnatural noise. Kromer doesn't even know how she's able to speak. She has no mouth, no tongue. She probably doesn't even have vocal chords anymore... She lacks the lungs to draw in a breath, to exhale with a scream.]

[Kromer is shocked into silence.]

[Her body starts to shake, as if her mind has finally caught up with the idea that she just lost everything her morals stand for. There's a rattling noise that accompanies the trembles, as if metal and wires were rubbing together. The woman tries to pull away from Sinclair-- possibly hide in shame. Yet, she is much too inexperienced with her body to walk yet. She trips over her own feet and crashes to the floor with an unforgiving noise. She settles for dragging herself as close to a wall as possible. As if to cower. Kromer seems... terrified. As if her entire world has collapsed around herself.]

[epicfroggz]

Inktober 2024 Day 7 - Bloom

Oh, God, turn me into a flower…

[pepperpixel]

💖STRANGE LOVE!💖

“the lightening’s not frightening when u r w me, oh cuz love is not always what u think it’ll be!”

CROMA!!!! Croma art!!!! Cuz I forever and ever adore these two together….. they’re so good…! 🥺

[sunflowerpirateart]

“Waiting…. waiting! For you…”

[fbfh]

do you still write for jj?

ooooh not only do I write for JJ but I kiss you on both cheeks for giving me an excuse to talk about one of my favorite obscure JJ thoughts. JJ x ballerina!reader (gn so technically ballet dancer reader, but you do dance pointe and in a more feminine style in pas de deux so do with that what you will)

They thought you were a kook for the first few summers since you clearly went to school off the island. It turns out you're not, you're just a scholarship kid to whatever fancy school you go to (something that Pope LOVES to pick your brain about since he's dying for a scholarship to his dream college)

at some point or another, there's a hurricane. you end up sticking it out with the other pogues. that's when they notice how... weirdly flexible you are. especially JJ. mostly JJ. it started off small, with you stretching a little while you guys are hanging out in the aftermath since the day after a hurricane is always a free day. JJ looked away from you for like two seconds and you just fuckin... dropped into a perfect split. he's surprised by this obviously, but he's more surprised when you seamlessly shift to a split on the other side, then a center split, bending and moving with impossibly flexibility. then a moment later, you're asking him "hey can you grab my leg?" as you stand up and stretch into a scorpion/needle pose. soon you're dragging him out of the room to "help you with something else." he FULLY thinks yall are about to hook up, but instead you put on this beautiful, artsy, erratic piano music, kick off your sandals or sneakers or whatever, and begin moving like a fucking vision.

you're rambling to him while you dance like it's nothing, but his jaw is on the fucking floor.

"This is the solo I learned last semester," you chuckle while spinning like a little figurine atop a music box, or something in a snow globe, or... wherever else he's seen ballerinas in passing before.

"If I'm rusty by the time I get back, Miss Raine will kill me." you chuckle playfully.

after a few moments, you finish, posed delicately on the ground. you look up at him, your cheeks flushed, your eyes glistening with mirth.

"holy fucking shit," he exclaims, making you blush. "goddamn, princess, that-"

he trails off with a disbelieving chuckle.

"That was fuckin' incredible," he says with a breathy laugh, then nudges you playfully, looking at you more closely like he must have missed something all those times he looked at you and never saw this magical ballet fairy hiding inside you. "you've been holdin' out on me." he teases.

"okay, okay, here's where I need your help." you begin, trying not to get too distracted. you reach out and grab his wrist, holding out his left arm palm up. "I'm gonna run at you like this-"

you demonstrate, taking a step forward. his attention is locked onto you even harder from the moment you grab his arm.

"And kinda... kick my leg around," you do just that, so you're twisted around and facing away from him. he lets out a little noise of surprise. you know it must seem convoluted and ridiculous, but you really need help practicing this lift.

"I need you to wrap your arm around me like this," you say, bending forward with one leg extended behind you, the other supporting you, so your stomach rests on his bicep and his hand holds the small of your back. "And then place your other hand right on my ribcage here."

"oh, my hand will be wherever you want it, cupcake." he says, making you roll your eyes at the (only half joking) innuendo.

"okay." you say, taking a step back. "you ready?"

the first few times you walk through it together are clumsy and slow, a mess of limbs and giggles, but eventually you get it. you call your friends in to show them the bluebird lift you've been working on, even having successfully taught JJ how to lower you and do a few basic steps with you to conclude. you both get through it unscathed, and your friends reactions are very similar to JJ (with only slightly less innuendo and teasing from John B and Pope), and as JJ giggles and demands you come at him so he can lift you again, you start to see a lot of potential in him.

maybe, just maybe, you can shape that potential a little more over the summer. your ballet academy always has scholarships for boys available since they're always in demand in the performing arts. you think there might just be a chance for JJ to do a lot more lifts with you.

[deus-ex-mona]

ngl i want to see an entire dramatic chapter dedicated to chizuchan’s “oshi break up” with aizo, flashback sequence and all

[reallyhardy]

Sorry what’s up w the Ethan slater stuff? I know him only from your posts / SpongeBob stuff

HI HELLO please buckle in

yep -- the same guy from the spongebob musical, and my posts abut the spongebob musical.

he blew up completely and now the general public knows him as 'ariana grande's new boyfriend' - their relationship seems to have started off the back of co-starring in the upcoming wicked musical film adaptation.

it's just been like. a monkey's paw curling sort of a way for him to get catapulted to fame, as i had always really enjoyed him as a performer (as spongebob, yes, but also in the other roles i'd seen him in,) and my biggest hope back around 2017 was that he would continue in and be really successful in theatre, get a lot of broadway roles, maybe take on some existing parts i thought he'd really suit, like seymour in little shop or ogie in waitress.......... but instead he booked the role of boq from wicked in a massive hollywood film production instead, where he met ariana grande. THE ariana grande.

and then yeah. at some point, he and grande broke up with their respective partners, (slater leaving both his wife AND newborn son) jumped into a new relationship, and now the whole wider internet knows who he is but certainly not for the right reasons.

there's been speculation regarding whether or not grande and slater had cheated on their previous partners before their relationship began with various sources coming out of the woodwork saying "yes they did" and others saying "no they didn't" -- humans are all perfectly capable of making stuff up, the media especially, so i simply don't know who to trust and i admit it had completely shattered my whole good impression of him - PLUS it gave the wider internet an absolutely awful first impression of him, resulting in, yeah, the (frankly, unflattering, sometimes downright cruel) memes of him popping up on twitter and, as i discovered yesterday, in non-theatre youtubers' videos who would literally never have heard of him if not for the slater-grande romance 🥲

FULL COVERAGE of the situation as it was happening can all be found on the lovely @notasimpleslater's blog under the tag 'ozgate' if you want to delve deeper!

[clumsyclifford]

thanks for tagging me @4thbrighteststar

rules: shuffle your On Repeat and let people pick their favorite from the first five songs!

here goes fingers crossed y'all get normal songs

lemme tag @igarbagecannoteven @allsassnoclass @kaleidoscopeminds @burstingsunrise anddd @daydadahlias

(commentary on each song under the cut)

wish you were sober: i had a moment with this song several years after everyone else did

chemicals: had a moment with this ALBUM.

stuttering: god okay i don't know WHY this is still on my on repeat except for, i assume, that every time it plays when i listen to my on repeat it self-reinforces its position. i WAS listening to it, and them, a lot, back when i saw them live earlier this year, no shame, but its time is frankly up

kissinginacarcrash: surprised to find this on here! i'm studying for a telltale concert im going to with my friend. this is one of their better songs imo

bet on it: ...i was afraid this would happen. my sister and i jammed out to all three hsm soundtracks on a long drive earlier this week. there is nothing like belting out bet on it and scream in a car with your sister. so then i kept listening to those two songs. scream is also in fact on this playlist right now.

[weregonnabecoolbeans]

I watched Ani BEFORE I was a star wars fan and loved it because I love starkid

Now that star wars has consumed my brain I’m scared for what this musical will do to me the next time I watch it

[ssreeder]

bro i swear ara might be one of my Favorite characters she makes me so sad but i also like girly get a grip 😭 i love the way u write everbody especially sokka because hes so different but still has his yk quirks and tbh when ppl write him romantically they kinda leave it out

heres ara cuz i am this 🤏🏻 Close to just giving her a playlist since shes so ..woman. yk what i mean??

anyway i kinda Imagine her cut to be simliar to zuko and very uneven cuz bro Zhao will not acutally give a fuck to at least make it nice

this is just a fall from grace even tho its Basically the best thing right now since shes away from all that crazy shit

OMG ITS THE GIRL! The one & only Ara!!! I love how you did a before and after, girl thought she had her shit handled! Only to have her shit handed to her. She has serious sad girl energy but you’re so right she needs to handle it haha.

Thank you so much for this I am squealing with joy you’re amazing!!!