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enha-stars · 3 days ago

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Meddle About ; P. Jongseong

I'd take you back to my house, so we could meddle about

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jay x F!Reader

Synopsis: Jay’s been a bit busy at work and hasn’t given you the attention you deserve, and now, you’re making him work for it. No problem, he loves the chase. (7.7k)

Warnings: Porn with almost no plot at all, SMUT, p in v, MDNI, alcohol, clubbing, kissing, praise, fluff, minor exhibitionism (in da club), oral (fem), spit, reader is shorter than jay, overstimulation, teasing, pet names, yn lowkey a brat, (minor) brat!tamer Jay, reader has long-ish hair, fingering, think that’s it!

A/N: Gasp! She’s alive! Yes, I am. Barely. But! I wanted to get something out before Ramadan (lol) and originally Jake's hands were making me feel some type of way but then Jay... yeah. Anyways. Enjoy! Sorry if it sucks. Reblogs appreciated!

The warm steam still clings to your skin as you step out of the bathroom, a towel loosely wrapped around your body. Your damp hair drips onto your bare shoulders as you walk into your dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of the city skyline filtering through the window. A slow, sultry beat hums through your speaker, something from your ‘Sexy Nite’ playlist that you can’t even name but it lulls you to sway your hips in rhythm, moving to the vanity.

You take your time, dragging a shimmering body oil over your legs, watching the sheen catch the low light. The scent of vanilla and amber lingers in the air as you smooth it over your collarbones, letting the moment stretch, relishing in the quiet anticipation of the night ahead. It has been a busy week, meetings and presentations getting the best of you, but for now, it’s just you, the music, and the slow, deliberate ritual of getting ready.

A night out on a warm Friday was all you needed to drown out the misery and exhaustion of the week. You weren’t originally going to accept, choosing to stay home with your boyfriend but when he texted you, letting you know that his meetings are running later than usual, you accepted the invitation.

You slip into a purple lace bralette, fingers trailing along the delicate fabric, thinking back to the time you had first bought it, the way it was gently stripped from your body by Jay, his eyes lingering on it, long enough for you to buy a few more. You reach for the top draped over your chair and just as you’re about to pull it over your head, you hear a faint click of the front door unlocking.

Then, footsteps.

“Baby?” Jongseong’s voice, low and tired from the day, echoes down the hall. At the sound of his voice, one you hadn’t had the chance to hear today, your lips curved into a small smile, an ease settling into your bones.

Before you can respond, he steps into the doorway and his eyes land on you, frozen mid-motion, the top still halfway in your hands. You turn to face him, a soft smile on your lips, and his gaze, once tired, darkens, slowly raking over your figure. The exhaustion from his day evaporates instantly, replaced by something huskier, something that makes the air in the room heavier, despite the seeping steam from the bathroom.

“Shit” he exhales, his voice thick with something you recognize all too well. His tie is already loosened, sleeves pushed up, but now his fingers flex at his sides, like he’s debating whether to close the space between you.

He hasn’t seen you all day, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as he ran out the door this morning. He’s missed you, he always misses you, so as soon as his meeting finished, he flew out the door and sped home, hoping to catch you before you left.

A smirk tugs at your lips as you slip the top over your head, watching his jaw tighten, his eyes lingering a second too long. You bought this top, black and lace, with him a few weeks ago. He made you try it on and then he took it off you in the changing room, mumbling against your skin about how beautiful you looked.

“Hi, baby. You’re home early,” you murmur, turning back towards the mirror, pretending not to notice the way he’s still looking at you like he wants to ruin your plans for the night. You would’ve let him, but you were feeling a bit mean tonight.

Jay exhales a slow, amused breath, leaning against the doorframe, head tilted slightly as he watches you. You catch his eye in the mirror briefly and have to look away instantly because the heat in his eyes, the love and promise, was enough to make you cave.

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “Lucky me.”

He blinks slowly, trying to ease the want and desire that drips out of him. He’s not sure why he’s having such a visceral reaction to you, but he knows it could be anything. A combination of your body wash, the sight of you in that top, or just you, looking so pretty and relaxed.

You pretend not to notice the way Jay’s gaze lingers, hot and unrelenting, as you turn back toward the chair where the rest of your outfit is laid out. The music pulses through the room, wrapping around you like a second skin, heightening the thick tension that settled in the room.

With knowing slowness, you reach for your mini skirt, sliding it up your legs inch by inch, smoothing the fabric over your hips. It’s a little tight, tighter than you would like, but with the way his eyes were drinking you in, you knew you couldn’t change it. You can feel his stare like a touch, burning into every movement you make. The hemline barely covers what it should, and when you glance at him through the mirror’s reflection, his jaw is locked tight, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he’s trying to keep himself in check.

You loved this look on him, the loose constraint, the way his lips were pinched tightly, almost as tight as his jaw. It made his tanned skin glisten, the veins in his arms making an appearance. He looked absolutely edible.

Jay breathes sharply, then lifts his hands to his collar, tugging his tie looser with slow, measured movements. The silk slides between his fingers as he pulls it off completely, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he watches you shift, adjusting your skirt in place. He has half a mind to usher you to bed, using his tie to keep you from squirming.

“That’s the outfit for tonight?” His voice is rough, deeper than before. His throat is parched and he feels like a bitch in heat but he can’t help it when you look like that, when you look at him like you want to eat him as much as he wants to eat you.

Your smile twists into an innocent pout and you finally turn to face him. “Yeah. Why? You don’t like it?” You can see the physical evidence of how much he likes it, but you wanna hear it.

Jay lets out a low chuckle, but there’s no humour in it—just heat, thick and dark in his tone. He pushes off the doorframe and takes his time walking further into the room, every step heavier than the last, like a predator closing in.

“I like it,” he answers quietly, eyes never leaving you.

“You look beautiful.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide, one arm resting on his knee while the other rakes through his hair. He looks devastating like his—tie abandoned, top buttons undone, sleeves pushed up, the definition of dangerous, divine, and delicious. You want nothing more than to push him back on the bed and kiss his skin, knowing how he’d taste. Like oakwood and sweat.

You swallow the lump of heat in your throat, heart thrumming in sync with the low string-heavy song playing. “Are you going to shower? I thought you were tired.” You were baiting him, he knew it, but he couldn’t help but want the hook anyways.

Jay tilts his head, watching you carefully. “I was.” His lips curl into a smile, something sinful. “Then I walked in on my girl looking like this. And suddenly, I’m not so tired anymore.”

You step towards the vanity, pretending to focus on your jewelry, but the weight of his gaze makes it impossible to do anything. He’s in full control of the room without even trying, and when he leans back slightly, one arm keeping him up and one running a hand along his thigh, you know exactly where this is going.

“You weren’t planning on coming,” you say, reminding him as you fasten a gold necklace around your neck, one he had bought you for your birthday.

Jay hums in agreement, rubbing his jaw, his fingers grazing his bottom lip. “Changed my mind.”

You raise a brow at him through the mirror, amusement and knowingness dancing in your expression. “Oh? And why’s that?”

His tongue swipes across his lip again before he finally stands, closing the space between you in a few strides. His hands find your waist, fingers grazing the bare skin between your top and skirt, pulling you in just enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Because,” he says, his lips brushing just over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “There’s no way in hell I’d miss seeing you in this little outfit.”

Your fingers play with the strings of your top, struggling to breathe for a moment before you meet his eyes in the mirror, the heat of his body seeping into yours. His scent wraps around you like a second skin and you breathe him in.

“Hook this for me?” You ask him, voice softer now, laced with something breathless. You push your hair to one side, exposing your semi-bare back to him.

Jay exhales through his nose, a quiet but familiar sound, but you hear the way his breath stutters slightly. His hands find your back, warm and steady as he sliders the clasp into place. His touch lingers, fingers grazing along the curve of your spine before trailing lower, skimming over the exposed skin above your skirt.

“Are you doing this on purpose or am I losing mind?” His voice is rough, strained.

You bite your bottom lip, suppressing a smirk, but before you can say anything, his hands tighten on your waist, pulling you back until your spine meets his chest. You gasp, just slightly, but he catches it, revels in it.

“Missed you, baby,” he breathes, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss just behind your ear. “I’m sorry I’ve been so fucking busy. Haven’t had a second to touch you.”

His words send a shiver down your spine but settle your heart. You had been busy too, but you were still home sooner than him and he knew it. His hands start to roam, slow, pressing, like he’s relearning every inch of you. The tension between you both becomes suffocating. He palms your hips, thumbs pressing into the dip of your waist before sliding down over your thighs, gripping at the soft flesh.

Before you can react, he moves.

In one smooth motion, he forces you to step back with him, turning you, and pulls you down onto his lap, your back flush against his chest. His hands find their place again, gripping, kneading, taking his time. You feel him everywhere. The heat, the need, the way he’s been holding back for days.

You press your hands against his thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress pants. Your head falls back just as his hands inch towards your breasts. Your mouth feels dry and there’s heat pooling in your stomach.

With one firm movement, he lifts you slightly, maneuvering you off his lap and onto the bed, your ass hitting the plush covers. A small whimper escapes your mouth, so incredibly turned on by his sheer strength, the way his entire body reacts to you. Just as you blink away the need that clouds your eyes, Jay sinks down to his knees in front of you, his hands slowly trailing down your thighs as he looks up at you, spreading your legs so he slots himself between them.

Your breath hitches. “Jay–” There’s need in your voice, clear as day, and he smiles at you sweetly, a dark contrast with the blistering heat in his eyes.

His fingers press into your thighs as his lips ghost over the inside of your knee. “Please?”

You wet your lips and almost nod, but just as his lips press against the skin of your knee, you inched your foot up and pressed it against his chest, pushing him back. He looks up at you with bright eyes.

“I don’t wanna be late, Jay. If you’re coming with me then you need to change.” You cup his cheek and stand, sliding your hand into his hair and patting his head. You brush your calf against him as you walk back into the vanity, picking up your rings.

You watch him through the mirror, the way his shoulders drop and he exhales a long breath. He pushes himself up and glances at you, unbuttoning his shirt. His smile is sharp, borderline threatening.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

The city lights blur past in neon streaks as Jay drives, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rests on your bare thigh. His fingers flex every so often, tightening slightly, like he’s reminding himself that you’re right there. That he can touch, but only so much.

He knows the game you’re playing. He knows you're teasing him, testing him, simply riling him up so when he does taste you, when he does slide into you, you’ll understand how much he misses you, how much he loves you.

You shift, crossing your legs deliberately, your skirt riding up just enough to make his grip tighten. Just because he knows what you’re doing and that he accepts it, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t effect him. He’s losing his mind.

He doesn’t look at you, just clenches his jaw, the muscle feathering under his skin as his fingers press into your thigh. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he mutters, voice low and dark.

You hum, leaning slightly towards him. “Maybe.”

Jay exhales a loud breath, adjusting his grip on the wheel, but you see the way his knuckles whiten. He still wants to be here with you, still wants to play along, even as frustration simmers just beneath the surface. He’s not sure how long he can last.

When he finally pulls into the club’s parking lot, the tension between you is thick, electric. The second the car is in park, Jay shakes his head, lips twitching in amusement. “You’re a menace.”

Instead of answering him, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the edge of his lips. “I’m glad you’re here, Jay.”

His eyes and exterior soften and he lifts his hand, resting it gently on your cheek. He brushes the skin under your eyes lightly, afraid he might mess up your makeup, and guides your lips to his.

The kiss is soft, his pink lips moving against your glossy ones. He pulls away too quickly, like he’s afraid he won’t be able to stop if it continues. “Me too, baby.”

The moment you step inside, the club’s atmosphere crashes into you–thich bass pounding through the floor, music loud enough to drown out every other sound. The air is heavy with heat, bodies moving in sync, the scent of liquor and perfume mixing together in a way that makes your head spin.

You’re glad you’re busy enough to only accept a few invitations a month, if that. The club scene isn’t one you love, but it is nice once in a while.

Jay moves behind you, a steady presence as you weave through the packed space. His hand finds your lower back, warm and firm as he presses against you, guiding you through the throng of bodies towards the bar, where your friends are waiting.

Jake and Sunghoon spot you first, both grinning as you approach. Jake pulls you into a quick hug as Sunghoon slaps Jay on the back, teasing him about his new promotion. Letting you go, Sunghoon pulls you into a quick hug and only frowns when you mess up his hair a bit. Jake has his arm around Jay’s shoulder, a bright smile on his face.

“Glad you could make it, dude,” Sunghoon says, a small smile on his face. “It’s been a while.”

You watch as Jay’s shoulders relax, as the music enters his skin and the stress melts from his body. His smile is genuine and your heart flutters at the sight. “Thanks, man.”

Before you can say anything, Jay leans in, Jake’s arm dropping, his lips brushing against your ear, voice thick and warm against your skin. “I’ll get our drinks,” he murmurs, his hand giving your waist one last squeeze before he pulls away.

You nod, barely getting the chance to respond before Giselle suddenly appears, grabbing your wrist with a bright, excited grin. “Y/n! You’re here! Come on,” she shouts over the music, eyes gleaming. “We’re dancing.”

You only have enough time to toss Jake your purse before she’s pulling you into the sweaty crowd. She pushes through bodies with her elbows until she reaches Karina, shouting your arrival. Karina pulls you into a quick hug and immediately starts swaying her hips.

The music takes over, and soon, you’re moving, letting go. The bass pulses in your chest, and the rhythm controls your every step. Giselle laughs, spinning you, before pulling your hips against hers. Karina quickly finds someone that captures her attention but stays close. You three are completely lost in the music.

And you don’t notice Jay watching.

He stands by the bar, drink in hand, but his gaze is locked onto you, his grip tightening around his glass as he slowly brings it to his lips. The club’s neon lights flicker across his sharp features, highlighting the way his eyes darken as he watches you move.

It’s like you’re completely unaware of the effect you have on him. But he knows that you know.

Jake and Sunghoon notice. Jake nudges Sunghoon, tilting his head towards Jay. “Dude, look at him.”

Sunghoon raises a brow. “Oh, he’s completely whipped.” They both snicker, knowing what he would have said if he had heard their conversation.

Jay doesn’t even register them.

Because you’ve just caught his gaze.

And you smile.

It’s subtle, enticing, but it’s enough. His jaw flexes again and before he can think twice, he throws back the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass down with finality.

To Jake and Sunghoon’s shock, Jay moves. He mutters something about your drink, how he’ll buy you a new one, and moves through the crowd, through the flashing lights and moving bodies, straight to you.

You don’t notice at first, not until you feel the warmth of his hands, strong and sure, as they find your hips from behind. You can recognize him by touch alone and a sharp inhale catches in your throat as he pulls you back against him, pressing close, the heat of his body settling against yours.

“You’re fucking killing me here, princess.” His voice is low, right against your ear, thick with amusement and something darker.

You smile, pressing yourself into him as you roll your hips in time with the music. “Took you long enough.”

He laughs quietly, fingers tightening around you. You bring your hand to his neck as he moves against you, not as smooth, but still to the beat. He’s pushing your back flush against his chest and when your ass perfectly brushes against his hard-on, his hips jerk into you.

Gasping, you spin in his arms, needing to look at him, needing to watch the way his eyes dance with different emotions, so much more expressive than the rest of him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slots one of his legs in between yours.

He’s guiding your hips back and forth, finding his own rhythm. His jean-clad thigh brushes closely against your pussy and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. He watches you carefully, taking in every single twitch of muscle and movement. His grin widens when you start playing with the hair at his nape, pulling him closer, until your lips are just shy of touching. His breath is heavy, warm against your mouth, and his eyes make your stomach clench in want.

His hands slide lower, fingers splaying over the small of your back before he drags them down your ass, squeezing once. Your head falls into the crook of his neck and the friction, the heat, its dizzying, almost too much, but not enough all at once.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Y/n. You know that?”His thumb dips below your skirt and massages the skin there. His breath is hot against your ear as he angles his body, making sure his dick rubs right against your pussy. “Bet you’re just as wet for me as I am for you.”

He nibbles on your ear, dragging his tongue across the lobe.

You tilt your head up, eyes glazed. You knew what you were getting into when you pushed Jay away back home, but you didn’t think he’d let you continue your little game. You should have known better. Here you were, underwear almost ruined as he nips and licks your skin.

He uses one of his hands to lift you a little higher, presses you harder against him as his fingers graze the skin of your inner thigh. “Will you let me check, baby?” His voice is sinful, borderline gravel.

You can only nod, too buzzed by the music and his scent, the heat of his body, to answer him. You knew if you opened your mouth, you’d moan out his name and you had some shame. Even without any alcohol, your mind was hazy, overcome by lust and desire.

Jay smirks against your head as you continue to grind against him. There’s so many bodies pressed up against you both but he only cares about you, about the way your nails dig into his scalp as his fingers inch closer to your heat.

He can feel the slight stickiness before he reaches your cunt and he bites back a groan. Here he was, losing his mind, and you were dripping for him on a dance floor. Matching your pace, he waits until your hips press against his pelvis and then he brushes his index finger against your underwear, eyes rolling into the back of his at how wet you are.

He does it once more, arm tightening around you as your legs shake. He doesn’t press hard enough to offer you any relief, simply brushes against it featherly, but it's enough to coat both his fingers.

He removes his hand, dropping your skirt before lifting it to his mouth. You watch him with wide eyes, a sight to behold. He looks so sinful, lips curved into a devilish smile as the lights bounce on his sweaty skin.

His arm is still around your waist as he lowers his slick coated fingers to your lips, a full blown smile spreading on his face when you tilted your head, mouth parting in invitation. He touches your bottom lip with his fingers before sticking them in his mouth. His eyes flutter at the taste and you watch with dazed amazement as he sucks his fingers clean, eyes hooded as they stare you down.

You can’t help the small whimper that leaves your mouth and it has Jay surging forward, capturing your lips with his. His lips move roughly against yours, nothing like the sweet kiss you shared in the car. He licks your bottom lip and slips his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your groan as you taste yourself on his tongue.

He cups your cheeks and deepens the kiss, not a single thought in his head besides you and how much he loves you and all the things he’d like to do to you. You nip at his lips before kissing down his throat. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to keep still as you suck on his skin. When you lick his skin once more, he knows he’s had enough.

Threading his fingers into your hair, he pulls as gently as he can to pull you away from his skin. You look up at him with plump lips, covered in spit, eyes wide and blinking. He tilts your head and kisses you once before his lips are pressed against your ears.

“Please, princess, let’s go home. Let me take care of you properly.” Despite the desire that drips from his words, you hear the plea, the need. He’s never, not once, let things get this far before he’s made you cum on his tongue.

Hurriedly, you nod at him, your own need evident in the way you clutch his shirt. “Yes, okay, let’s go.” Hand still on the neck of his shirt, you step into the crowd but he tugs you back, arm wrapping around you.

“What about your friends?” His eyebrows are furrowed and you have no idea how he’s thinking about anything that isn’t your pussy or his dick but your eyes soften and you pat his cheek.

“I’ll text them.” You clear your throat, trying to look as composed as Jay. “Though, they can probably guess.” Eyes raking over him, you take back your words. He doesn’t look composed, not at all. His hair is slightly messy and his thin sweater is all rumpled.

“Okay, baby,” he says, taking a step forward and guiding you through the sea of bodies, hand in hand. He doesn’t spare Jake and Sunghoon a single look as he pulls his keys out of his jeans.

Hiding a bright smile, Jake tosses your purse to you and you simply wave, too embarrassed to look them in the eye. Jay rests his hand on your lower back as he guides you out of the club and outside, taking your purse with his other hand.

Once you get to his car, he looks down at you and there’s a wicked glint in his eyes. He unlocks the car before he places the keys in your hand. You look up at him in question and he shrugs as he opens the driver door for you.

“I’m drunk.” He states, simply, eyes ablaze.

You clutch the keys tightly, already coming to terms with his plan. “You had one drink, Jay.”

He smiles at you, dimple forming. He leans against the car, arms crossed. You swallow, breathing heavily. Under the moonlight, he’s glowing. He looks so handsome, so fucking beautiful and you’re about to lose your mind.

“There’s still alcohol in my system, baby. Can’t risk your safety, can I?” His words are sweet, but with the way he tilts his head, licking his lips, you know that your safety isn’t the only thing on his mind.

When your shoulders drop in defeat, he pushes off the door and raises an eyebrow at you. Sighing, you quickly made it to the drivers side and sat in, trying to adjust your skirt. Jay leans down and grabs the seatbelt, face close as he buckles you up. The faint click rings in your ear when his eyes meet yours and before you can lean over and kiss him, he moves back and gently shuts your door.

You blink at the space he just occupied before taking in a deep breath. It was only a ten minute drive. You could do this. All you had to do was ignore him and the wetness between your legs and then you’d beg him to fuck you.

Jay slides into the passenger seat and clicks his seatbelt into place. He watches you out of his peripheral vision as you start the car and pull out. He watches the way your throat bobs and your fingers shake on the wheel.

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue to suppress an amused laugh. You look the way he looked driving here. A small, miniscule part of Jay reveled in it. In the way you kept squeezing your thighs shut, glancing at the rearview mirror when you had the urge to look at him.

“You okay there, baby?” Jay sounds genuine and you know he is, he always is, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a twinge of mockery in it.

“Just perfect,” you grit out, turning at the light.

“Yeah?” He rests his hand on your thigh, an innocent enough gesture if you hadn’t just almost cummed on his fingers in the club. His thumb starts rubbing your skin and you exhale sharply, trying your best to focus on the road.

His fingers inch towards your heat slowly and you unconsciously spread your legs, skirt hiking up even further. He smiles at the way your body responds to him and grazes his nails close to your cunt.

“Jay,” you whisper, a bit broken and a bit out of breath. “Please.” You meet his eye for less than a second before gripping the wheel harder, eyes back on the road.

He leans back in the passenger seat, legs spread. His bulge is incredibly noticeable and it’s taking everything in you not to acknowledge it. His index finger brushes against the soaked and thin fabric and he tsks. “Are you dripping all over my seats, Y/n?”

You don’t respond and he chuckles, eyes bright. He uses two fingers and slides them across your covered lips, eyes zeroing on the arousal that has soaked your underwear and slowly drips onto his seats. Your legs shake and he presses the palm of his hand into your thigh, keeping you still.

“Focus on the road,” he murmurs, voice low but curt. It has you squirming but you listen anyways, gripping onto the steering wheel for dear life.

Slowly, Jay uses his middle finger and hooks your underwear to the side. It’s sticky and ruined and he’ll definitely be pocketing them later, but for now, they’re in the way. He slides his middle finger between your folds, back and forth, mesmerized, before he watches your greedy cunt swallow up his long, bony finger to the knuckle.

Your entire body jerks forward and a breathy moan escapes your lips, eyes fluttering at the first intrusion into your pussy in days. You’re gasping as Jay slides his finger in and out of your pussy slowly before curling it, pressing just enough pressure to have you leak arousal all over his hand and leather seats.

Just as he picks up the pace and you almost swerve the car, he pulls out and you yell, tears of frustration on your lash line. He presses on your clit once, grinning ear to ear at the moan that rips out of you.

He pulls his hand away completely and sticks his finger into his mouth, staring at the side of your head the entire time. He makes sure to make a show out of it, swirling his tongue around just like he would in your cunt, purposefully being noisy.

You’re shaking, legs trembling as you turn onto your street. The sight of your apartment is enough to have you press down on the gas, not caring about the speed limit or how Jay sighs at your behaviour.

“Watch your speed, baby. There’s cops on this street.”

He leans closer to you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers brushing against the shell of your ear.

“You’re so fucking mean,” you whisper, voice broken and hoarse. You’re not really thinking as you say it, more focused on pulling into your designated spot without crying or cumming.

Jay simply raises an eyebrow at your words, a slow smirk pulling at his lips. “Am I?”

Your heart jumps at his words and you put the car in park. You keep your eyes forward when both of your words registar in your mind and your head snaps to look at him, an apology on the tip of your tongue but he’s already out the door.

You watch helplessly as he rounds the car and opens your door. You say nothing as he undoes your seatbelt and gingerly pulls you out of your seat. You try to ignore the way your thighs stick to the seat or the sheen you leave behind, focusing on Jay’s hand wrapped tightly around yours.

Wordlessly, he gently guides you inside your building, still holding your purse with that small smile on his face. You look up at him and he looks down at you as you wait for the elevator. You part your lips, ready to apologize, when the doors open and he pulls you in.

Pressing the button to your floor, he leans against the elevator wall, still holding your hand. You look down at your joined hands, at how soothing it feels to have his strong, slightly calloused hand in yours. Jay watches you, a softer smile on his lips when you bring your joined hands to your lips and kiss his knuckles.

It says everything you haven’t yet.

Following your lead, before you can drop your hands, he lifts them to his mouth and kisses your knuckles, eyes staring directly into yours. Then, he kisses the back of your hand before slowly dropping them, eyes focusing on the elevator doors again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and press yourself into his side. If he wasn’t mean earlier, he definitely will be later. You purse your lips, want and desire leaking out of you, dripping down your legs.

Finally, the elevator dings open and he’s pulling you towards your apartment, footsteps fast as you try to match his pace. When your door comes into sight you have the urge to fall to your knees and beg Jay for forgiveness. He unlocks the door slowly, turning the key like he has all the time in the world and you unconsciously squeeze his hand in anticipation.

He pushes the door open and you stop breathing, mouth going dry. He doesn’t turn to look at you as he guides you into your home. You watch as he sets your purse on the little table, along with the keys and his wallet.

“Jay, baby, I’m–” He cuts you off by turning quickly and slamming his lips against yours, pushing you into the door, a hand on the back of your hand and hip. He swallows your gasp of surprise and kisses you ferociously, pressing his chest against yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back just as messily, teeth against teeth. He slips his tongue into your mouth and you clutch at his hair. He sucks on your tongue as he fits his leg between yours, his thigh once again, rubbing against your pussy.

You can barely breathe but you kiss him deeply, head falling back when he pulls away and begins kissing down your neck, nibbling and licking down your throat, hand unclasping your top and pulling it off of you, only pulling away to pull it off your head. His lips reattach to your neck and he kisses down to your collarbone, biting down on your skin. Your hands tighten in his hair and his grip on your hip becomes bruising.

You grind on his knee, moaning at the friction. Jay kisses up your neck before capturing your lips in another hated, messy kiss. His hand travels up your body and he slightly presses down on your throat sucking on your tongue before pulling away.

“I wanted to be mean. Show you how mean I really could be,” he pants into your mouth, lips hovering over your swollen, bruised ones. His thigh rubs against your pussy and you whimper, eyes opening. He presses a soft kiss on your forehead before brushing his nose against yours.

“But I missed you, baby. I’ll take care of you, yeah?” His voice is soft, loving, unmistakingly ridden with lust. He begins kissing down your body again, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to the skin above your collarbone before he unclasps your bralette, tossing it on the floor.

His lips hover over the skin between your breasts and his eyes flicker up, meeting your dazed ones. “Did you miss me, princess?”

There’s tears in your eyes as you nod, sniffling from the overwhelming urge to cum and bare yourself open to him. “Yes, Jay, Gosh, I missed you so much.”

He smiles at you before kissing your skin, licking and sucking, swallowing the sweet taste of your sweat and vanilla. You were a mess above him, head thrown back and eyes sewn shut, incoherent mumbles and whimpers leaving your lips as you pull and scrape his hair at the nape of his neck. Your entire body is on fire.

Jay presses a soft kiss on one of your breasts, his fingers brushing the nipple of the other. He kitten-licks the aching bud before latching on, sucking and circling his tongue. His other hand pinches the other nipple before he latches onto that one. He jerks his leg upwards to give you more friction and you’re overwhelmed, almost to the point of hysteria and tears. You can feel your orgasm building up and you mutter something to him, something incoherent, but he knows.

Sinking to his knees, Jay looks up at you and you don’t even notice the bit of drool that drips down your chin. Your knees buckle at the look he gives you before he slowly pulls down your skirt and underwear, tantalizing and slow.

He lets the skirt drop and you step out of it. He stares at your dripping, glistening pussy with a hunger you don’t normally see. He wets his lips as his eyes darken completely and he surges forward and buries his face in between your thighs, nosing your clit. Your head hits the door when he inhales, almost crying out when he presses a wet kiss to your pussy.

He spreads your legs even further, gets impossibly closer. His nose brushes against your slick folds. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Prettiest pussy in the world, princess.” The vibrations of his words went straight to your core and you whine.

You pull at Jay’s hair and he moans as he licks a harsh stripe of your core. You arch your back at the feeling and he presses his face closer to your cunt as his tongue pushes in and out of your sopping hole, licking and sucking loudly. He drags his tongue along your pussy, holding your hips still as he sucks on your clit.

The tears in your eyes become heavier as he presses his nose against your clit and you moan out a broken, whiny version of his name as he laps up all your juice. The sounds he makes, the slurping and lip smacking has your legs shaking and you feel the tightness in your stomach, the orgasm that’s been building.

He curls the tip of his tongue upwards and you almost scream, tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer pressure of pleasure. “Yes, Jay, yes” you chant, not caring about who hears you. You begin feverishly moving your hips against his face and Jay grants into your cunt, making your insides vibrate. Your legs are pulsing and your walls clench around his tongue and he knows you're close.

Using one of his hands, he spreads your folds open wider and licks you even harsher, teasing your clit with his nose as he fucked his tongue into you. “Oh, Jay–” Your vision blurs as you moan, loud and broken, your stomach uncoiling as your orgasm washes over you and you gush all over Jay’s face.

He hums in pleasure as he continues to push his tongue into your pussy, greedily swallowing your juices. He licks and sucks until your legs begin to shake and you pull at his hair harshly, trying to pry him off you. You’re mumbling something, a string of sentences neither of you can decipher as he slows his tongue, kissing your cunt once.

You glance down at him and your legs buckle at the sight of him; eyes wide and hair wild as your cum and slick coats his face, his sun-kissed skin glowing with sweat as he smiles at you with swollen lips.

He licks the skin around your pussy, cleaning you up a bit and then kisses up your thighs. You thread your fingers into his hair and tug, he stands slowly and you pull his face to yours. His eyes rake over you, grinding slowly at the fucked out look on your face, the tears staning your cheeks, swollen lips, and wide pupils.

You tilt your head and kiss him, pressing your lips flush against his, licking his bottom lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth. You groan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. He deepens the kiss, holding your trembling legs up as you quickly pull his top over his head, working on undoing his belt.

You pull away from his lips and kiss down his throat, licking and sucking his skin. His hands work to undo his belt and his breath hitches when you kiss his adam’s apple, licking a long stripe of his neck. “Fuck, baby.”

He pulls the belt off, throwing it somewhere and undoes his jeans as you lick and bite his collarbones. He slides his jeans off, stepping out of them as you work your way up his neck. He wraps one hand around his hard, leaking cock and slides up and down once.

“Still okay, love?” Jay kisses your cheek, concern in his eyes. You kiss his chest and wrap your hand around his, squeezing the base of his cock, eyes widening when his entire body shudders.

“Fuck me, baby.” Your thumb brushes against his pink, leaking tip. “Need you so bad.”

Jay swallows and brushes the back of his hand against your cheek before he presses you into the door and slides his hand under your thigh before lifting your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.

Exhaling, Jay grips his cock and lines up with your entrance. The soft scrape of his tip against your pussy makes you both groan and he slowly pushes himself in. The satisfying tightening and burn of his veins against your gummy walls make you both moan in unison and his head falls into the crook of your neck as your pussy swallows his dick.

“Fuck,” he groans against your skin. “Fuck, baby, feels so good.” You press a soft kiss to his neck and he jerks his hips upwards, filling you to the brim. He kneads the flesh of your ass before he grips your hips tightly and thrusts in you.

He begins fucking into you at an unsteady pace, your jaw going slack from pleasure as his tip presses against your cervix, making your eyes roll back. You could feel every vein bulging against your walls as he pounds into you, your hands clawing at his back as his pace becomes rougher.

He sucks the skin of your neck, licking as he bites into your skin sharply, almost breaking skin, and you whimper loudly, tugging his hair. He hips have a mind of their own as he fucks into you roughly, bringing you both closer to your release, abdomens twisting and churning.

Your walls squeeze around his cock and desperation claws at him as he thrusts erratically and he pushes your body flush against his, forcing your hips to match his bruising pace as more slick poured from your cunt, down his legs, your needy moans mixing with his broken ones.

“I’m, oh, close–” you stutter out, eyes fluttering shut as Jay’s fingers brush against your clit. Your walls squeeze around him again and he feels the euphoria build in his chest. Stars dance around your eyes as he tilts his head and presses his lips against yours, mumbling against your lips.

“Cum for me, baby. Please, cum all over my cock,” his voice was desperate, sweet.

He thrusts into you a few more times and your eyes roll into the back of your head as you come undone for him, falling limp against him as your legs shake. Jay’s hands are all over your body, caressing your skin and mumbling sweet nothings to you.

His lips press soft kisses to your skin as you coat his dick in your cum, thrusting into you once more as warm ropes of his cum fill you up. He mumbles your name like a prayer as he continues to kiss you, continues to cum, filling you up. He’s hips are still moving slowly against yours as he fucks his cum into you, whispering quiet praises of love against your skin.

Your entire body is shaking and you can barely feel your legs and Jay slides both of his hands under your thighs before lifting you up, your legs wrapping around him securely as his dick twitches inside your sopping cunt.

When your eyes meet, he parts his lips to tell you he loves you, but you pull him into a burning kiss, tongues and teeth clashing. You moan into his mouth at the intimacy of it all–the way his cock is still buried inside you, the way your mixed juices leak out of you and down his legs, the gentle caress of his hands as he whispers loving praises into your mouth.

You pull away and your lips curve into a smile at the way Jay’s lips glisten, at the way he keeps his eyes shut for a moment longer before his eyes meet yours. You’re both sweating, panting, ignoring the fact that your neighbors definitely heard you. He smiles at you and you brush the hair sticking to his forehead.

“I love you, Jay.”

His eyes soften considerably and he presses his forehead against yours, nose brushing yours before he smiles. “And I love you, baby.”

You cup his cheek and a wicked, insatiable glint enters your eyes and Jay’s cock twitches inside you, making you both hum. You tilt your head and smile at him widely before grinding your hips against his, pulling a groan out of him.

“Now,” you press a kiss against his jaw. “Fuck me on the bed.”

Jay’s already moving to your shared bedroom, making sure to walk slowly as his cock slides in and out of you at the movement. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“As you wish, princess.”

433 notes · View notes

takimakiiiii · 7 months ago

Text

la mano arriba, cintura sola, da media vuelta, danza kuduro

part5! to the ¡cosmic girl records!

!cosmic girl records!

summary: carnival, beaches, feijoada, the brazil grand prix, your best friend and boyfriend team up to . . . bully you?

olliebearman x reader & platonic!grid x reader

fc!: random pics and girls from pinterest, all credits go to their rightful owners in the images used below

warnings: swearing, aussie slander (i’m sorry, turning on my own kind fr), lando insults y/n’s singing 😔, girlfriend stealing

a/n: thank you for how quickly ‘make tacos not war’ got to 100 likes! Here’s part 5 to the cosmic girl records!

wordcount: 1.2k

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, georgerussell64, alex_albon, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 8,429,229 others

unfortunatelyy/n: her name was lola, she was a showgirl 🇧🇷

tagged olliebearman, landonorris, georgerussell64, alex_albon, lilymhe and 3 others

view 3,292,949 comments

user2: WITH YELLOW FEATHERS IN HER HAIR

user4: AND A DRESS CUT DOWN TO THERE

user5: SHE WOULD MERENGUE

user6: AND DO THE CHA CHA

user7: 💃💃💃

user10: who’s lola i don’t get it 😓

user15: the entire nation just took a sigh

user11: suffer in silence you uncultured swine

user12: damn 😭

user13: it’s a song lol, yk Copacabana by barry manilow

user14: always count on y/n to give you best f1 content

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

landonorris: not to brag but we absolutely smashed you guys

lilymhe: no need to rub it in lando onewin

user1: LANDO ONEWIN HELP

unfortunatelyy/n: yeah pal, you guys literally won by 1 point

landonorris: we still won

unfortunatelyy/n: I DEMAND A REMATCH

lilymhe: y/n nO

landonorris: so you can lose again?

unfortunatelyy/n: SO WE CAN BEAT YOUR SORRY ASSES

olliebearman: you’re so scary when your mad, i can see your fuming while you stare at your phone

unfortunatelyy/n: why do you like exposing me so much 😞

olliebearman: it’s out of love

unfortunatelyy/n: sure whatever 😒

olliebearman: she’s literally hugging me right now

unfortunatelyy/n: I’M BREAKING UP WITH YOU

user8: ugh to have friends like the f1 grid

user9: COPACABANA, MUSIC AND PASSION WERE ALWAYS THE FASHION

georgerussell64: thank you for capturing my good side in that photo

unfortunatelyy/n: you just want to talk about your abs don’t you?

georgerussell64: yes 😌

unfortunatelyy/n: GET OUT OF MY COMMENT SECTION

georgerussell64: OKAY OKAY GEEZ SO AGGRESSIVE

unfortunatelyy/n: OUT OUT OUT OUT OUT

georgerussell64: OKAY I’M GOING

unfortunatelyy/n: GO AWAYYYY📢

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, georgerussell64, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, schecoperez and 11,483,292 others

unfortunatelyy/n: i love my friends 🥲

tagged landonorris, olliebearman and oscarpiastri

view 47,439 comments

user1: LET MY GIRL SING HER DISNEY SONGS 🗣️

user2: “do i look like national geographic” OSCAR PLS 😭

user3: HELP “friends” how does it feel ollie 😭😭

olliebearman: 🥲

unfortunatelyy/n: whoops 🫣

oscarpiastri: i’m sorry but it was a dumb question

unfortunatelyy/n: IT WAS VALID THOUGH DO THEY

oscarpiastri: why would u ask me tho 😭

unfortunatelyy/n: isn’t it obvious, you’re one of those vegemite eating people who ride kangaroos to school and go “crikey mate”

oscarpiastri: I-

user6: she’s not wrong

olliebearman: it’s okay you get used to it

user4: it’s okay guys, ollie and y/n are sophisticated adults who purchase vegetables responsibly

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

landonorris: okay but u were loud asf and it was 2am

unfortunatelyy/n: u a grown ass man who goes to sleep before 2am?!

landonorris: YES??? I HAVE A JOB??

unfortunatelyy/n: damn ok 😒 that’s still unfortunate

landonorris: okay miss insomniac, no one wants to hear a live production of Frozen on a budget at 2 in the morning

unfortunatelyy/n: ouch that hurt

landonorris: i’m sorry it's just the truth, i’m pretty sure the entire hotel doesn’t want to be hearing it too

unfortunatelyy/n: was i really that loud??

landonorris: we share a wall. and yes.

unfortunatelyy/n: damn ok 😔

user5: i can confirm as an australian, koalas do get angry

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

unfortunatelyy/n: I KNEW IT

liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri, landonorris, georgerussell64, lewishamilton, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes and 4,292,573 others

unfortunatelyy/n: um, dois, três . . . carnival!

view 11,392 comments

user1: she’s STUNNING how did ollie bag her

user2: pasta.

user1: what?

user2: long story.

user7: only the real OG’s know

user2: Olá do Brasil! 🇧🇷

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

user3: oh to be y/n 😔

user4: does she have a job or does she just travel and cling off ollie

| user5: damn so aggressive and for what

user6: she just graduated and is going to be an engineer for mercedes next year

user4: damn my bad ya’ll, respect 🫡

lilymhe: MARRY ME 😍

unfortunatelyy/n: 💍

alex_albon: nO StOp

unfortunatelyy/n: @lilymhe u know this loser?

lilymhe: nope he doesn’t ring a bell

alex_albon: I’M LITERALLY COOKING LUNCH FOR YOU

lilymhe: hm you seem to be on your phone rather than cooking

| alex_albon: BECAUSE THIS LOSER IS SHAMELESSLY FLIRTING WITH YOU

unfortunatelyy/n: are you feeling okay honey? i’ve got the psychiatric ward on the phone

lilymhe: cancel that mf

alex_albon: do i mean nothing to you

lilymhe: who are you again?

alex_albon: I’M GOING TO EAT YOUR LUNCH

lilymhe: no wait

olliebearman: hey there gorgeous 😍

unfortunatelyy/n: i’m going to light you on fire

olliebearman: WHAT

unfortunatelyy/n: yep say goodbye to that mfing ice cream hair

olliebearman: i didn’t realise you hated the hair that much 😔

unfortunatelyy/n: well now u do 🤗

olliebearman: ☹️

user5: i’m sorry ollie she’s right, the hair is just not hitting

liked by unfortunatelyy/n

liked by olliebearman, landonorris, charles_leclerc, alex_albon, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt and 11,492,293 others

unfortunately/n: dig, set, spike . . . right?

tagged olliebearman, landonorris, lilymhe, georgerussell64 and 6 others

view 83,492 comments

landonorris: yes duh if that wasn’t obvious

unfortunatelyy/n: that block button is looking really nice right now

landonorris: mhm we all know how that went down last time

user2: GUYS THEY’RE TALKING IN FULL SENTENCES WHAT DO WE DO

user3: who knew they had that many words in their vocabulary

unfortunatelyy/n: @landonorris that was a moment of weakness

user4: what are they yapping on about 😭

landonorris: what if i told everyone

unfortunatelyy/n: you wouldn’t live to see another day

user5: HELP WE STAN A PSYCHO

olliebearman: oh hey guys are we talking about the time y/n was threatening to block lando and she accidentally called emergency services at 3am and they heard her shouting so they dispatched police to her house and kicked her door down 😃

user6: WHAT

unfortunatelyy/n: WHY DO YOU HATE ME

user7: when did it become lando AND ollie bullying y/n 😭😭

landonorris: and may i add, that occasion wasn’t the only time y/n called someone when threatening to block me

unfortunatelyy/n: 🖕🖕

user8: not the double middle finger

user9: oh she mad

liked by georgerussell64, alex_albon, pierregasly, oscarpiastri, kimi.antonelli, arthur_leclerc and 44,329,928 others

unfortunatelyy/n: lovely photos, boys

tagged olliebearman, landonorris and charles_leclerc

view 44,829 comments

user1: sorry but i speak for everyone when i say WE LOVE Y/N

user2: SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

user3: the ollie pic 😭

user4: y/n was not joking when she said she had mad photoshop skills

charles_leclerc: WHAT DID I DO

unfortunatelyy/n: live.

user5: charles must be having deja vu

charles_leclerc: WHEN DID U EVEN TAKE THAT PHOTO

unfortunatelyy/n: your girlfriend took the photo for me

unfortunatelyy/n: i mean, my wife

charles_leclerc: WOW. @alexandrasaintmleux

alexandrasaintmleux: 😊

olliebearman: sorry 😔 it’ll never happen again i was getting blackmailed

user6: ollie’s such an easy target in everything im afraid

landonorris: YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL HER U DUMBASS

olliebearman: whoops

unfortunatelyy/n: @landonorris 🤨

landonorris: i have no idea what hes talking about

unfortunatelyy/n: sounds suspicious but ok

olliebearman: WHY ARE YOU BELIEVING HIM

unfortunatelyy/n: WHY DO YOU ASK SO MANY QUESTIONS

olliebearman: just say you hate me already 😔

taglisttime!: @ilivbullyingjeongin

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope it made you laugh, have a happy + safe day xoxo santanasaintmendes <3

171 notes · View notes

catiuskaa · 6 months ago

Text

EACH OTHER’S SOUNDTRACK.

summary: the need to know more and to keep listening to the music: attention, the begining of devotion —you have had each other’s from the start.

series masterlist (☆) collab with @dalamjisung !

wc: 3.7k

cw: fluff! using my (10!) years of music lessons, so technical lingo [use of italian], i’m making jisung a pianist, he’s playing lalaland’s piano theme and other piano studios, another soundtrack too (i won’t spoil it!), they are so whipped it’s hilarious, shoutout to debussy, sibelius and rimsky-korsakov, they’re a bit dead but yk contribution is always appreciated

[🔷 ☆🎼☆ 🔷]

His presence made itself noticeable in slow beats of tempo.

Da capo. From the start.

It was a quiet night. Or rather it had been, until the tranquil sound of a piano came from above you. The melody sang to you, unspoken words below it’s charming notes, D natural, F sharp, A flat, A natural, A flat, F sharp, C sharp, the rich tone of the instrument reaching your ears, cheekily waking you up from your short-lived slumber, as if you were the one who was meant to be listening.

Your sleepy brain recognized the melody, and you almost brushed it off to your new neighbour watching that soul-crashing movie, until the tempo started to speed up.

Crescendo. Accelerando.

A new octave joined in, and the melody changed, fluctuated, its sweet sweet tone almost like a stroke, tender, kind, and loving. Like a summary to the first half of the movie, the melody was cheerful, and almost cheesy when it doubled, now being accompanied by a lower version of itself. Until it started turning lower, deeper, faster, faster, and then, it exploded.

You couldn’t listen to the music anymore. It wasn’t a matter of notes or melody when all that was there was an artist screaming to be heard, and for a second, it almost felt like he was right in front of you, a scale, large and strained, yet beautiful, being tortured out of the piano as the instrument seemed to yell what the artist couldn’t.

And alas, it stopped.

Lonely nights you spent waiting for his piano, as his music, calm and tranquil, charmed you in the arms of Morpheus. And when soon after, summer weather arrived, it only worsened. Summer nights were always hot, so it was understandable that he kept his window open, and because the both of you lived in the same crappy studio-room departments, only a staircase away from each other, same thing went for you.

But today —tonight— you were sweaty and awake, yearning for that mysterious pianist to lull you back to sleep. You couldn’t help but need more. Maybe not sleep, solely a peek. A bit over a week had passed, so maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t too late for introductions.

Well. There was only one way to know.

Surreal. It’s how it feels when you stand up and halphazardly grab a jacket and a hair clip, to at least pretend you had the energy to do your hair propperly before heading upstairs.

Your steps don’t echo when you head outside, warm in your squirrel-themed loafers, completely different to the door, whose loud bang when it closed caught you by surprise, fully waking you up.

Making your way upstairs seems harder than you had though way back when you were half asleep, but you push through until you’re in front of his door. Your fist is barely an inch away from the wooden surface, and there’s nothing stoping you now until there is.

The piano comes back.

If it’s a popular tune, much like the one he had just played, you didn’t recognize it. Being this close was different. Closer. Closer. The music reverberated underneath you, sneaking under the wooden door, as if calling you in, an invite.

Your arm falls limp by your side, your body frozen, held hostage by the sound some unknown hands produced just a few metres in front of you as the realisation hits.

You don’t dare. What if opening the door ends the music? And running back down the stairs, a small part of you wonders if you ever will. But, worry not. In between you and me, dear reader, no one can run away from the power of a meet cute.

It’s late morning already when you get out of the shower and dry your hair. You’re early for work, you always are, so you relish the small fragment of time remaining between the moment you are ready and the moment when the rest of the world is. Turning on your record player, settling the vinyl in place, gently and ever-so-slowly placing down the needle to free the music from its plain and rounded cage, letting it flow through your whole apartment and out the windows.

Scheherazade dominates every space of your studio apartment, filling up each and every corner with its sound. The now familiar melody of the violin claims its throne and rules over the kingdom that it has conquered, as you move along the space it has claimed, far from being solely yours when the bassoon slowly creeps up.

Largo e maestoso. Fortíssimo.

What you never expected —let alone imagined—, was being interrupted by a knock on the door.

The orchestra doesn’t mind it. How could it, when its sound thoroughly overpowers that of the door. Whoever had knocked had been hesitant, at least the first time, because then its intensity heightens.

“Coming!” You claim, because what else could you say? So you quickly put on your shirt and messily tuck it under your long skirt that reaches just below you knees, wondering whether it could be your landlord or not, rushing to the record player to lower its volume until you finally rush and open the door.

A mix of vanilla and cinnamon. The scent of his cologne hits you and you can’t help but blink hesitantly.

What welcomes you behind the door isn’t the middle-aged man with hearing problems that smelled of the warmth homemade lemon pie left behind, having tasted it yourself already hundreds of times before whenever his daughter made it. No, it was far from whatever you could’ve guessed.

And a small part of you wonders if it could be him, which is almost revealed by the first thing he utters, that threatens to give him away, if the suit he’s dressed in hadn’t already.

The pianist.

“The tale of the Kalendar Prince?”

It’s almost a mumble, one that could almost end up hidden by the music that still sounds, a combination of notes that turns the melody melancholic, a slow-paced yet not quite ritardando, F sharp, G sharp, A natural, and a scale that follows, a soundtrack to your first encounter.

“Rimsky-Korsakov.” You nod with a hesitant smile, confused as to which could be the reason for him to stand before you.

He smiles, and you find it impossible for any chord or melody to describe what it does to your heart. It’s heart-shaped brightness softens you, and your hand gingerly lowers from the door, your grasp weakened by the force of the feeling that overcomes you.

“I’m much more of a Debussy kind of guy.”

He says it almost as if the sentence had unwillingly escaped from his lips, wondering if such a statement should’ve been left in the back of his mind, not wanting to upset you.

You could kiss him.

Instead, you sheepishly chuckle. “Is there something I could do for you?” It’s a faint attempt to ground yourself. He’s a stranger, the closest stranger you’ve ever met. Like a language you’re no longer fluent in but still remember how to read. The language, a combination of sounds.

The sounds of music.

“Right.” His snicker comes out bashfully, and you wonder how could he had escaped from your pocket. “I, uh, my name is Han Jisung. I moved upstairs a week ago.” He propells his hand forward, his eyes gente and kind, a shy dust on the colour of his irises.

You smile, and the shy dust weakens when you grab his hand, overpowered by a glow you don’t dare to try and decipher.

“Pleasure to meet you.” It so was. You followed suit, introducing yourself.

His grin doesn’t falter for a second, and you wonder how fast one could be charmed by someone else. Pretty fast, judging by how reluctantly you let go of his soft grasp, his hands in pristine condition, and funnily enough, his nails painted black with pink stars, a shade of pink similar to your own.

It’s almost as if, for a second, he forgets why he’s there, until he lets out a low chuckle.

“I hadn’t presented myself, but meeting you, I’m not sure if you could help…”

You blushed, a shy bit confused. “Try me.” Your tone is playful, and surely enough, —maybe it wasn’t just for your tone, but that, you didn’t know— he matches, his cheeks dusted with pink.

“Okay, then.” He giggles, killing you slowly. “This is the only white shirt I have, and I need one today, but I didn’t know it needed cufflinks.” Jisung shows you, the cuff of his sleeves open, no buttons on sight. “I doubt you have men cufflinks.”

You nibble with your lower lip, and while pondering, staring at the wooden floor of the hallway, staring to something that Han couldn’t see, you miss the way his eyes soften and his pupils dilate, as if wanting to observe you, much like the way a musician hears a piece for the first time, the familiar notes mixing to create something new.

“Maybe I don’t, but…” you mumble with a cheeky smile, and it disarms him.

Confidently, you too miss the way his eyes never leave your silhouette as you walk to the door on the other way of the hallway.

You knock, and with a flick of your hand, usher him to your side.

“Hey, Artie?”

There’s a shy beat of silence, your music not travelling far away from your apartment.

“If it’s the IRS, Artie isn’t here!”

You can’t help but laugh at the way Jisung shows his surprise at the low and chirping tone that replies to your sweet call.

“A kind neighbour?” He questions teasingly, looking down at you slightly, barely noticing the sudden closeness in between you.

“The landlord’s wife.”

He doesn’t have time to react before the door opens, and a short, old woman appears, the strength on her unexpected, but her grin softens at the sight of you.

“Remember me? Gina’s friend?” You smile sheepishly, proving yourself by mentioning her granddaughter’s name.

“Of course I remember you, silly,” she grins, chuckling. “These bones of mine may be old, but I couldn’t forget such a pretty face like yours. And your flower shop is still my favourite.”

Jisung’s eyes soften when he looks at you. Her wrickled yet soft hands craddle your face, and you giggle. But then, she squints her eyes at Han, pursing her lips.

“Who is this young man? Your boyfriend?”

You know you’re a cheeky bastard when you speak before him, stopping him from correcting her.

“He needs cufflinks. You think Richie will mind if we borrow a pair?”

Artie doesn’t miss the blush that settles on both Jisung and you.

“Kids flirt so weirdly nowadays.” She mumbles, a little confused, but she enjoys the way it flusters you two.

“Wait here. I’ll see if I can find ones that aren’t covered in batter or flour.” Her grin feels teasing when she heads back inside.

You looked at Han and answered the question he had written on his expression. “They own the bakery that’s under this building.”

It was almost as if you couldn’t stop looking at him. The way his cheeks rounded when he smiled at Artie. How his laugh reverberated between the walls of your apartment when you told him the woman’s name was Artemisa and he hadn’t expected it. How his pianist fingers trail on the edges of your vinyls, swiftly looking at your collection, making appreciating comments and initiating banter.

He already had his cufflinks, but Jisung just couldn’t seem to leave.

“Oh, shit.” Sadly, even if he hadn’t left, you had to go. “This was fun.” You chuckle, and he smiles too, nodding. “I uh, I’m kinda late for work.”

“Did I keep you from leaving?”

His eyes are tender, and the softness of his voice weakens you. For the first time in what feels like forever, you hesitate, wondering if you should really go to work.

“No! No, gosh, you’re fine.” Yes, he was. That was part of the issue, honestly. “I lost track of time. But… it was very nice meeting you.”

“You too,” he grins, taking your hand in his again. “It’s refreshing to talk to someone who likes music almost as much as me.”

And reluctantly letting go of his hand again, you rush downstairs, heading to work.

[🔷 ☆🎼☆ 🔷]

You can still smell the mix of flowers and different types of green on you. Its scent lingers on you and you cherish it, walking back home slowly on a warm summer night.

Lost deep in thought, as always. Gingerly skipping as you make your way through the street, relishing the way the moon beams, stepping on the little traces of water that the summer showers had left while you were still in the flowershop. It’s by no means cold, but your hands never leave your pockets.

That’s how you notice that you hadn’t picked your keys before you left home.

You curse, your mood a bit pissed off, but you shrug and accept it, still a bit lost in the depths of your mind when you get close to your apartment complex.

It may seem like leaving without your keys happens a lot —and sometimes it did, to be honest— by how organic it feels when you jump and lower down the fire escape stairs and grunting lightly you climb them, not allowing them to fall to the floor completely so its easier for you to put them back in place. It’s dull and boring. It’s the end of the day and the start of the night.

But then, as you go up the stairs, you start hearing the piano.

It’s different from what you have heard from him before. You recognize the piece, the trickiness of Sibelius, the speed of the music, the pacing and how it gets faster and faster, in an accelerando that almost makes you walk faster up the stairs, and you can’t help but smile, basking in the glowth of the moon and what now seems to be your soundtrack as you go up the fire escape stairs and plan to head through your open window.

But when you turn to face the window and groan slightly when trying to open it, the music stops.

You must have focused on the music too much, because you got into the wrong fucking house.

“Shit, Jisung.” You mumble, even if your leg is stepping into his living room already.

“Oh. You are here.” He giggles. “Thought I had fallen asleep on the piano again for a minute.”

“I was just… and then I heard you play, and I, uh…”

Staring at the floor, looking for something that could justify the sudden break in, you miss how Jisung gets close to you and helps you lift the old window higher, smiling.

“It’s okay. I could use the company.”

The sincerity on his voice stops your scheming, leaving you with no excuse, and you take your shoes off and leave them by the window, feeling like some cartoon character who had followed the scent trail of a homemade pie, floating behind it.

It’s silly. And if you were in the right state of mind, and not sleep deprived like usually, you’d probably feel a bit self-concious. Yet when you retell it to Jisung, the whole story just seems funny. Stupidly funny. So funny that he almost spills the cups of decaf coffee he makes for the both of you.

Taking your jacket off, you sip from the coffee mug he hands you, your heart cheekily spinning inside you when your fingers brush against each other.

He scratches his eyes, thoroughly amused, as he sits back on the piano stool. Even to you, the motion seems organic from the outside, and you wonder how many times could he have done the same action, how many scratches had the wood below it taken from settling the stool just right, in the space enough to be in front of the correct note and scale, close enough for his arms to rest on the black and white keys comfortably, and far enough so that it forces his back to stand in a position that won’t make him end up with crippling backpain.

“What were you playing before?” You smile as he too sips, warming his hands by holding the coffee with both.

“Before you entered a private property?” He snickers, and you snort, rolling your eyes.

“I haven’t heard you play like that before.” You are avoiding his eyes, because the moonlight does nothing but make him even more handsome, and you’re flustered enough already.

“I knew that the piano could be heard.” He mumbles. “The couple upstairs already told me off the first day, but when I told them I was a musician, they turned full-on proud parents mode.” He chuckles, and you snicker too, crossing your legs and sitting comfortably on the armrest of his sofa, so to face him. “I was wondering if you’d come tell me off too.”

You just blink at him, blushing. “I liked it.”

He blushes, and changes the topic, sheepish.

“It was Sibelius. What I was playing before you dared tresspass my property.”

“Very funny, pianist.” He snickers, and your heart screams at you to hurry up and start looking for an engagement ring. “Weren’t you a Debussy guy?”

“Absolutely. Nothing beats Debussy.” He nods proudly, as if the dead musician had been a close friend. “Like this one.”

You can’t distinguish the melody, but the light melancholy of it gives away Debussy in a second.

“Debussy is a trickster,” he says lowly, still playing. B flat, C natural, D natural, G natural, and then back down. “He always makes one think he’ll be going easy. Until he keeps going.” You enjoy the way he lets the music flow, the feeling that gives you uncomparable to that of your vinyls, because nothing could beat a real-life interpretation. You smile at the difference in tones, in the way the cadences complete each other.

The music continues, and his hand follows the other. Easily, the long piano fills his apartment with its music. It’s efervescent, how it turns dramatic, how he plays with the intensity, talent flowing over how his fingers move along and over the keys, the skill of a musician showing, playing by memory.

Jisung’s enthralled on his play, and you know it by how he takes a second to look up at you after you move closer. The mug he gave you is settled next to his, on the piano, and you both giggle shyly when he moves and gives you a bit of space to sit on the piano stool next to him.

He keeps playing, and for a second, it takes you back to your own apartment, threatening to lull you to sleep.

You don’t, though. Gently, you clap when he finishes playing, and you chuckle when he bows, overly exaggerated.

“Teach me,” you say, smiling, in your eyes a glow that matched that one he had hours ago, below your doorframe. “Something easy.”

He ponders for a second, and gingerly takes his mug and finishes his coffee, brushing your shoulders together when he takes the mug and when he settles it back next to yours.

His hand comes and he lays it over yours. Han doesn’t speak, and you don’t either, not daring to interrupt. You hold back a shiver when you notice his breathing hitting your neck, instead focusing on how his hand moves yours.

“D natural, G natural… B… no, B flat, D natural.” He announces in a low mumble, pressing each key with your fingers, smiling when he sees you nod, so concentrated. “Try that a bit faster, apprentice.”

You snicker, and even if he tells you to try it on your own, his hand barely leaves yours when you try it yourself.

“Good.” He grins. “Now,” he starts, his tone still low, speaking gently a bit over your shoulder, and his hand back to where it belongs. Back on yours as he keeps playing. “D natural, C natural, B flat, A natural, B flat.”

“Wait,” you giggle, finally recognizing the piece. “That’s Howl’s Moving Castle!”

He smiles, unable to do anything else as he stares at you giddy self while you play the simple melody back again and again. You giggle, and smile at him a wide, toothy grin that kills him.

But as your eyes meet each other’s, your smile gently fades away.

His skin seems to glow under the moonlight that enters through the open window, it’s almost impossible to look away. You lean backwards slightly, impressed, and he moves to you, your arm hugging your waist, not letting you fall from the piano stool.

Han swallows dry, the force he uses to save you pushing you further against him.

You’re a mess when he looks away, and both of you miss each other when his arm falls back to his side. Standing up, you head back to the window, sitting on the windowsill to put your shoes back on.

He’s going to kill himself if his hopeless romantic heart doesn’t do him the favour, drowning him for ruining the moment. The mugs you two used, the rim on yours slightly stained by a faint pinkish shimmer, tug at his heart strings.

“I uh, thanks for letting me in. Sorry to have barged in, too…” you cringe at your tone, staring at the floor again, your hand on the window, still sat on the windowsill, a moment from stepping outside.

And once more, he approaches you. But this time, his hands don’t reach to the window to help you open it further.

With the shy music you two just played still lingering in the air, Jisung bends down and reaches to your cheek, and presses a bashfull kiss on your lips.

“My window will be open for you.” He grins, blushing like crazy.

He doesn’t tell you the title of the Debussy piece he played a moment ago. He knows, though, as much as he knows what inspired him to play it.

You.

Reverie. A dream.

A dream come true, on a warm summer night.

[🔷 ☆🎼☆ 🔷]

kats, a flutist —very much piano enthusiast, as little as I can play it—, who can figure out notes as they sound (it’s called perfect pitch!)

catiuskaa, august 2024 ©

SERIES TAGLIST! @cosmic-recs @dirtyweenerking @ughyeka @mysticpenguinwinner @meloncremesoda @idcxxsstuff @lovejohnnvsuh @lilacsecret23 @vidkqb @aquarideas @madiblox8989 @orbeez-nuts @authentic-65 @stascence-original @starlixs @confuchan @ljinhk @mynsung @madiilolz @p3acel1lly @quokkalighthanji @jupire @herefortheff @dreamerwasfound @dae-bakk-pop @skz-supernovaa @mimikyuu0305 @yerrrmomgoestocollege

bold and blue means i couldn’t tag you! </3

PERMANENT TAGLIST! @lyramundana @stayconnecteed

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gratelove · 4 months ago

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hello! i hope it's okay to send in an ask message like this. i used to be an active reader for the riverdale fandom, specifically for sweetpea. there was an author on here that i can't find the blog for and several of their stories featured sweetpea x reader. one of them was about the reader learning that archie was cheating on her with ms. grundy and she goes on a run, ending up on the other side of town and getting caught in the rain. sweetpea finds her and takes her to his home and they start a fwb type of fling after that. the reader is also a cheerleader for riverdale high and is ignoring sweetpea in the present time while he is pining after her. would you be able to post this so that anyone who might remember this story can tell the name of the blog? thank you so much!

I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to write a version of this fic or just post your ask to see if anyone recognizes it, but either way, I’m happy to do it!! Thank you for your ask, and here is my version! I hope this helps and I hope you enjoy 🤎

Drenched in Secrets

Sweet Pea x Reader

After discovering Archie’s betrayal with Ms. Grundy, you turn to Sweet Pea for comfort, and what begins as a passionate friends-with-benefits relationship soon evolves into something deeper. As Sweet Pea finally confesses his longstanding love for you, you realize you feel the same, and the two of you decide to stop pretending and embrace the real connection between you.

Warnings: mentions of sex (no details), fluff, kissing, cheating

You were only going to surprise him. Archie had been spending more time than usual in the music room lately, always giving some vague excuse about “extra lessons” with Ms. Grundy. You didn’t think much of it at first; you knew how much music meant to him, and you trusted him. But today, as you walked down the empty hallway toward the music room, a strange feeling settled over you. Maybe it was just nerves, but something didn’t feel right.

You paused outside the door, listening for the familiar sound of Archie’s guitar. Instead, you heard murmuring—soft, intimate voices—and something twisted in your stomach. You took a steadying breath, reminding yourself it was probably nothing, and opened the door.

And there they were.

Ms. Grundy was leaning in close, her hand resting on Archie’s shoulder as she looked up at him with that all-too-familiar, lingering gaze. Then, before you could even process it, her lips pressed to his in a gentle, slow kiss.

Time stopped. Every nerve in your body went numb as you watched your boyfriend—your Archie—kissing her back. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too lost in the moment, but the sound of your sharp, choked breath must have reached him. He broke away, his eyes widening in horror when he saw you standing there, frozen in the doorway.

“Y/N—” he stammered, stepping toward you, his face pale with guilt. “This isn’t what it looks like, I—”

You didn’t wait to hear the rest. With the numbness melting into anger and hurt, you turned and ran, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you sprinted down the hall. All you wanted was to get away, to outrun the betrayal seared into your mind.

You burst through the school’s front doors and kept running, letting your feet carry you wherever they would. The autumn air was cool and crisp, stinging against your cheeks as you raced down the streets, through familiar paths that blurred in your vision. Eventually, you found yourself on the far side of town, near the old train tracks where few people ever went.

The sky had darkened, heavy clouds looming overhead. And then, as if the universe itself was grieving with you, the rain began to fall—soft at first, then harder, until it was pouring down in thick sheets, drenching you. You didn’t care. In fact, you welcomed it, letting the rain wash over you as if it could somehow cleanse the ache clawing at your heart.

“Y/N?”

The voice was rough, familiar, cutting through the downpour. You turned to see Sweet Pea standing a few feet away, his dark eyes narrowed in concern as he took in your soaked, defeated form. He was dry under the shelter of a nearby tree, but he didn’t hesitate to step into the rain as he moved closer to you.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“That’s none of your business,” you muttered, feeling the sharp edge of your own pain and anger in your tone. You barely looked at him, focusing instead on the cold rain pounding down, grounding you.

Sweet Pea didn’t respond right away, but he slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders, the warmth startling in contrast to the chill. “Come on,” he said, his tone laced with gentleness. “Let’s get you out of this rain.”

Without a word, you let him guide you back through the darkened streets, the sound of the rain filling the silence between you. Soon, you found yourself in his small but warm apartment, your damp clothes traded for an oversized hoodie he handed you. You sank onto his couch, clutching the fabric around you, trying to find some sense of calm.

You hadn’t planned on ending up at Sweet Pea’s place, but after everything that had happened, you weren’t thinking straight. You just needed an escape from the horrible scene that kept replaying in your mind—Archie and Ms. Grundy, her lips on his, and the way he kissed her back. Sweet Pea’s apartment was dark and quiet, a world away from the chaos you’d left behind, and that was all you needed right now.

He watched you carefully as you ran your hands through your hair that was still damp from the rain. He sat in the chair across from you, his gaze steady, waiting for you to say something. You took a shaky breath and finally blurted it out, every painful word. “I walked in on Archie… with Ms. Grundy. They were kissing.”

Sweet Pea’s jaw tightened, anger flickering across his face. “That idiot,” he muttered. “He doesn’t deserve you.” His voice was rough but full of something you hadn’t expected—something fierce, something protective.

Maybe it was that fierce look in his eyes, or the anger bubbling up inside you, but in that moment, you didn’t want comfort. You wanted distraction. You wanted to forget. Without another word, you reached for him, closing the space between you as your lips found his, full of hurt and anger and a need to feel something other than heartbreak. Sweet Pea’s surprise melted away almost instantly as he responded, his hands finding your waist and pulling you off the couch and into his lap.

It wasn’t gentle or hesitant. It was fiery and consuming, like all the anger and hurt pouring out through touch. Sweet Pea knew exactly how to make you forget. He knew all the right spots to make you cry out in pleasure and not pain or sadness. No guy had ever made you feel like this.

That night set everything in motion. What began as a messy, impulsive choice became something you found yourself craving. You and Sweet Pea developed an unspoken agreement, a friends-with-benefits relationship that neither of you acknowledged aloud. Whenever the hurt resurfaced, whenever Archie so much as crossed your mind, Sweet Pea was there, grounding you in ways you never expected. Archie tried multiple times to reach out. He’d called, texted, and even come up to you at school or tried to catch you after cheer practice. You ignored all his efforts. He even tried once while you were with Sweet Pea. The Serpent had stepped in front of you, arms crossed like he was your personal bodyguard. Seeing him do that, seeing him protective of you, it did something to your insides you couldn’t even explain. You had to squeeze your thighs together just hold yourself in one piece. You knew you couldn’t stop seeing Sweet Pea, even if you wanted to. You were addicted. It wasn’t just physical, either. Slowly, you started to feel something else, a comfort and ease in his presence that you hadn’t felt with anyone before.

You made no effort to hide your connection with Sweet Pea, especially when Archie was around. If Archie was nearby, you’d let your hand linger on Sweet Pea’s shoulder or laugh a little louder at his jokes, making it clear that you’d moved on. Sweet Pea didn’t say much about it, but he didn’t pull away, either. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the attention, slipping his arm around your shoulders or brushing his thumb over your cheek whenever he caught sight of Archie watching. His favorite was to run his hand up your thigh, leaving his fingertips under your Vixens cheer skirt.

But the more time you spent with Sweet Pea, the more you realized that he was different than you’d thought. Beneath his rough exterior, he was funny and thoughtful, surprising you with little gestures that showed he cared. He’d tease you during study sessions, pull you into his lap when you were stressing over cheer practice, and always had a quiet, reassuring presence whenever you needed it. You found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated, but you kept it to yourself. After all, this was supposed to be casual, a way to cope with Archie’s betrayal.

Months passed, and the routine you and Sweet Pea shared became something almost normal. Yet you never told him how much he really meant to you. How much his presence had helped you heal. And every time you saw him, your feelings grew, but you kept it hidden, unsure of where he stood.

Then, one night, after a particularly late practice, you walked into his apartment, expecting the usual smirk and dirty comments. He loved your cheer uniform. He normally couldn’t keep his hands off of you when you walked through the door in it, which was most days. But tonight, Sweet Pea looked different. His gaze was intense, troubled, and he barely met your eyes as you stepped inside.

“Sweet Pea?” you asked, confused. “What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath, his expression shifting from troubled to resolute. “I can’t do this anymore, Y/N.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. “Can’t do what?” You knew what he meant, but you needed to hear him say, out of hope that you were wrong.

“Us. This… whatever this is.” He motioned between the two of you.

“Why,” you asked, biting your bottom lip to hold back a tear.

“Because…” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair. He seemed to be searching for the right words, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Because I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Way before this whole thing with Archie even happened.”

Your heart stopped. Sweet Pea’s gaze was intense, the usual casualness gone, replaced by raw vulnerability. “At first, I thought I could handle it,” he continued. “I thought maybe… maybe this would be enough. Just having you around, even if it wasn’t real. But it’s killing me, Y/N. Touching you, kissing you, watching you pretend like this doesn’t mean anything.”

The room was silent, his confession hanging heavy between you. You felt a rush of emotions—shock, confusion, but most of all, a warmth that started in your chest and spread, filling every part of you. Sweet Pea had loved you all along, even when you’d been too wrapped up in Archie to notice.

He looked away, his voice barely a whisper. “I can’t keep doing this if I’m just a hookup to you. I can’t keep being here, hoping you’ll feel the same way.”

You reached for him, your heart pounding. “Sweet Pea… you’re not just a hookup. You haven’t been for a while now. I thought… I didn’t think you’d want anything more.”

He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I feel the same,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “Somewhere along the way, I stopped wanting this to be casual. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Sweet Pea’s expression softened, a tentative smile breaking through the vulnerability. He stepped closer, his hand reaching to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “So… we’re done pretending, then?”

You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your chest. “Yeah. We’re done pretending.”

And as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a kiss that was gentle and filled with everything you’d both been holding back, you knew that this was more than just an escape. This was real.

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twelverriver · 20 days ago

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heyy :) so I saw your post about the new willemijn podcast interview and the translation thing and was wondering if you could dm it to me cause I really want to know what she said and I don’t have Apple Music cause I’m poor lol 😂

hello :)

I decided to just write a whole transcript of the thing because there are probably more people wanting to read it so I put it in a google doc and also down below if u dont wanna open links i hope this doesnt crash my post <3 tell me if there's any problems with it ! anyway i ALSO dont have apple music i was able to create a free try month so i don't have to pay for it 🙏

link to the episode + the translation below!

Notes: The Interviewer’s name is Jenny btw bc I will be using her name instead of Interviewer in the transcript :) Also WIllemijn mostly talks in like one really long sentence with pauses in between and I’ve tried to stay true to that, but sometimes it just works in German, but not really in English when you’re trying to make it make sense of it with the different syntaxes, so I added more periods to the sentences. Sometimes, her flow of speech is not exactly how I put it down here but I tried my best to convey it like she said it!

Jenny: Hey, my name is Jenny and welcome to a new episode of “...listens to” today with Willemijn Verkaik, and I’m very happy you all tuned in for it. You know how this works, we always ask our favourite musicians what they listen to privately, and I’m very excited about today’s guest. Hello!

Willemijn: Hello, I’m happy to be here.

Jenny: I’m going to introduce Willemijn now for everyone who might not know her. She’s a real power woman, and she’s truly one of the best voices in the musical scene of our time. She already charmed audiences all over the world in Wicked and in her iconic role as Elsa in Frozen, and she’s not just fantastic on stage, but she’s also a great inspiration for everyone, who dream big themselves. Now you can be excited for exciting/thrilling insights and especially into the music she listens to most in her own life. I’m excited to hear what you chose for the first song, what is it?

Willemijn: Something that maybe no one expected, and thanks for this introduction, that was really kind, thank you. What many people don’t expect from me, just a very happy song from Wham! I grew up with that, and I’m a big fan of George Michael and this is “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go”

Jenny: That’s definitely a song everyone immediately knows and everyone knows it just gets you in a good mood, so I would suggest just starting with the song before we say too much right now, and then we will talk about the song more later on. Here is Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham!

The song plays -

Jenny: What a song! What does it make you feel when you listen to it?

Willemijn: I want jump up and get on a chair and dance… I was nine years old when it came out, and it is so fun, it gets you in such a good mood and energizes you, and yes, now that I’m a few years older, I still want to jump up and dance to it.

Jenny: Amazing. Which song from your list is next?

WIllemijn: Next is a really special song, that is “Annie’s Song” from John Denver and I chose it for this list because it’s very close to the heart. We always went everywhere with the car with the whole car, really everywhere and my dad always put on this song, this music on the radio and I think John Denver is such a special musician and has such a wonderful, warm voice and then this song, Annie’s song, that is very special to me because I am also a person who loves nature and these metaphors that he’s always using, to compare love and life with nature, that is just so beautiful and with such a fantastic melody, I can always listen to it, my heart feels warm, and I get … what is it called? Tingles over my skin (she was looking for a German word here)

Jenny: Chills

Willemijn: Oh yes, exactly, I get chills all over and I can always listen to it, every day, every hour.

Jenny: I’m very excited because we all also want to feel what you just described. Get ready because here is Annie’s song by John Denver now.

Song plays -

Jenny: I immediately knew what you meant with the way your heart grows warm, the song is so…-

Willemijn: Yeah

Jenny: so comforting somehow when you listen to it-

Willemijn: Yes.

Jenny: and I can totally feel what you feel, what you described.

Willemijn: Very good, because the song is a bit older of course, because the youth of today hasn’t listened to it, doesn’t know it as well, but I would recommend listening to a few songs of his because they’re really… really beautiful. (she’s using a really informal tone of voice/language here, like she’s talking to a friend when she addresses the audience here)

Jenny: The next song you brought with you is one that has a special meaning for you, I think, I believe, and it is from a musical that made into the cinema again-

WIllemijn: That’s true (but more used like an agreeing yeah here).

Jenny: and it has fans over the whole world and it’s a really big thing, it’s a song from Wicked - the Witches from Oz. (that’s the German title for the musical)

Willemijn: Exactly.

Jenny: Tell us more about it, what song did you choose, why did you choose this song and what meaning does it have for you?

Willemijn: Yeah, the song is called “Frei und Schwerelos” in German ((Defying Gravity German Version. The translation of the German title would be “Free and weightless/gravityless”), the song has so much meaning for me because in 2007, I heard that I will play the main character in Wicked, the main character, Elphaba, a girl who was born green and was ostracized and hated because she was born green, from her family but also her environment, and she decides anyway to fight against wrong doing and yeah, it is an unbelievably beautiful story that she tells and now there’s a movie in cinemas and I really hope Wicked gets a boost again, also in Germany, because it is a very beautiful story with amaaazing music by Stephen Schwartz and Defying Gravity is at the end of the first act, where she says Hey I’m strong enough, and I can fight against injustice and I feel free and weightless, and I will fight for that.

Jenny: Yeah, and I really like that Wicked is now on the big screen and Wicked gets a boost and people are enchanted again [by it], so let us listen to it now, here’s “Frei und Schwerelos” (Defying Gravity German Version) sung by you.

Song plays -

Jenny: It feels immediately like you’re in a different world, like I totally forgot that we’re here recording an episode because you’re immediately so immersed in such a magical world. Do you still remember all the words to this song, that it’s just so powerful that you’ll never forget it or are you more a project-to-project and then the lyrics are gone person?

Willemijn: I’m actually more of a project-to-project focused person because I feel like it’s better for my brain, but just this song I have sung so many times, not just in the musical but also on concerts and I still remember these lyrics well, yeah, I think.

(They laugh)

Jenny: That song will probably always be a part of you and a part of your being and-

Willemijn: Yeah, exactly.

Jenny: the next song has equal importance because I just think it’s a song, a play/musical, a movie that has excited people all over the world, and it’s Disney’s Frozen. I think it has captured so many little girls and women and boys and also adults, the whole story, and what does the song mean for you and which song is it?

Willemijn: It is, of course, Lass jetzt los (German Let It Go) and I am incredibly proud that I was allowed to sing Elsa’s voice back in 2013. When I sang it in the studio, I knew hey that’s a beautiful song and it’s going to be successful, but that it is going to be SO successful and that children who can’t even speak their own language yet can already sing the song… and that is captivating young and old people the same, that is so beautiful and I’m so proud of being a part of that, it’s really great and that I was in Hamburg last year on stage in the Theater an der Elbe playing Elsa on stage was a full circle moment and kind of the cherry on top, I would say.

Jenny: Let’s listen to it again and here it is, Lass jetzt los by Willemijn Verkaik.

Song plays -

Jenny: I think the song is so touching, you’ll cry instantly when you listen to it, I don’t know what it is about, can you explain that or what the song makes you feel?

Willemijn: I hear the song in a different way, I hear myself sing, and I think about different things of course (they laugh), but I could never really explain it, because many people ask why is this song so… why is this song, this movie so successful and I uhh.. I also don’t know. I once asked the writers what is your magic, what is this and they said we just started writing and that is so beloved is a gift for us as well. They’re just brilliant, the authors who wrote this.

Jenny: For the last song, I think it’s really crazy that we’re almost through because the time runs so fast, and I think we learn so much about your career alone from your playlist because it is so insane to see what you’ve done. You have one last song for us that relates to your current musical, what is it and what are you doing now?

WIllemijn: I play Anne Hathaway in the musical & Julia right now, that is a feel-good music, a party and I get to play the role of the wife of William Shakespeare, her name is Anne Hathaway, and she thinks, hey, the Romeo and Juliet, it could deserve a better, more beautiful ending, and what happens if Juliet doesn’t kill herself, what happens then? I start with this idea and William and I write that story during the musical, we write that while the show plays, and it is really fun and emotional, it’s really beautiful.

Willemijn: I sing this song in the second act and I try to reassure Juliet, hey, maybe living is not that easy, and it doesn’t always go your way, but we get through it, and we can do it, us great power women. (She laughs)

Jenny: And the song we will listen soon, in which part does it appear or in which situation can we imagine it?

Jenny: That’s great! Here’s That’s the Way it is by Celine Dion.

Song plays -

Jenny: That’s a really nice song to end with, a song that gives you a push and really gives you power. Do you have some advice for us for the new year, something that’s like That’s The Way It Is because I think you as someone who lives their dreams, who goes through life with a lot of power, you can give us some advice.

Willemijn: (she Laughs) It is really nice to be seen as a power woman and I am really proud of that, but I really think it is just important to be true to yourself and know that power is not always necessary to be a power woman and I think that’s really important. Sometimes you can just be very sensitive and very bescheiden and then you still have a lot of power and thats really important for the new year.

Jenny: Yeah, that the power is in vulnerability and being true to that and not pretending when you don’t feel like it.

Willemijn: Yeah, exactly.

Jenny: Thank you for being here and sharing your songs, I feel like i learned so much about you and I really like the songs you chose for this and thank you for being here.

Willemijn: I really liked being here.

Jenny: See you soon, bye!

#there's formatting in the google doc that i wont bother with here lol #jana.txt #willemijn verkaik #i've got mail💌

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book--brackets · 7 months ago

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The 13 Clocks by James Thurber (1950)

The hands of all thirteen clocks stand still in the gloomy castle on a lonely hill where a wicked Duke lives with his niece, the beautiful Princess Saralinda. The Duke fancies he has frozen time, for he is afraid that one day a Prince may come and win away the hand of the Princess—the only warm hand in the castle. To thwart that fate, he sets impossible tasks for Saralinda’s suitors. But when the bold Prince Zorn of Zorna arrives, disguised as a wandering minstrel, and helped by the enigmatic Golux, the cold Duke may at last have met his match.

The Edge Chronicles by John Stewart and Chris Riddell (1998-2019)

Fourteen-year-old Quint Verginix is the only remaining son of famous sky-pirate Wind Jackal. He and his father have journeyed to the city of Sanctaphrax – a great floating rock, bound to the ground below by a chain, its inhabitants living with their heads literally in the clouds.

But the city hides a dangerous secret: deep inside the great rock, something horrible lurks. With his father away, Quint may be the only one who can save Sanctaphrax from the dreaded curse of the gloamglozer . . .

The Wandering Inn by Pirateaba (2018-present)

“No killing Goblins.”

So reads the sign outside of The Wandering Inn, a small building run by a young woman named Erin Solstice. She serves pasta with sausage, blue fruit juice, and dead acid flies on request. And she comes from another world. Ours.

It’s a bad day when Erin finds herself transported to a fantastical world and nearly gets eaten by a Dragon. She doesn’t belong in a place where monster attacks are a fact of life, and where Humans are one species among many. But she must adapt to her new life. Or die.

In a dangerous world where magic is real and people can level up and gain classes, Erin Solstice must battle somewhat evil Goblins, deadly Rock Crabs, and hungry [Necromancers]. She is no warrior, no mage. Erin Solstice runs an inn.

She’s an [Innkeeper].

The Moorchild by Eloise Jarvis McGraw (1996)

Half moorfolk and half human, and unable to shape-shift or disappear at will, Moql threatens the safety of the Band. So the Folk banish her and send her to live among humans as a changeling. Named Saaski by the couple for whose real baby she was swapped, she grows up taunted and feared by the villagers for being different, and is comfortable only on the moor, playing strange music on her bagpipes.

As Saaski grows up, memories from her forgotten past with the Folks slowly emerge. But so do emotions from her human side, and she begins to realizethe terrible wrong the Folk have done to the humans she calls Da and Mumma. She is determined to restore their child to them, even if it means a dangerous return to the world that has already rejected her once.

Peter Pan in Scarlet by Geraldine McCaughrean (2006)

In August 2004 the Special Trustees of Great Ormond Street Children's Hospital, who hold the copyright in Peter Pan, launched a worldwide search for a writer to create a sequel to J. M. Barrie's timeless masterpiece. Renowned and multi award-winning English author Geraldine McCaughrean won the honor to write this official sequel, Peter Pan in Scarlet. Illustrated by Scott M. Fischer and set in the 1930s, Peter Pan in Scarlet takes readers flying back to Neverland in an adventure filled with tension, danger, and swashbuckling derring-do

The Many Deaths of Laila Starr by Ram V. (2022)

Humanity is on the verge of discovering immortality. As a result, the avatar of Death is cast down to Earth to live a mortal life in Mumbai as twenty-something Laila Starr. Struggling with her newfound mortality, Laila has found a way to be placed in the time and place where the creator of immortality will be born. Will Laila take her chance to stop mankind from permanently altering the cycle of life, or will death really become a thing of the past?

Wishing Chair by Enid Blyton (1937-2000)

Once Mollie and Peter have discovered the Wishing-Chair, their lives are full of adventure. It takes them to all sorts of magical places, from the giant's castle where they rescue Chinky the Pixie, to the amazing party at Magician Greatheart's castle.

Die by Kieron Gillan (2018-2020)

DIE is a pitch-black fantasy where a group of forty-something adults have to deal with the returning unearthly horror they barely survived as teenage role-players.

Poison by Chris Wooding (2003)

Poison has always been a willful, contrary girl, prone to being argumentative and stubborn. So when she discovers that her younger sister has been abducted by the phaeries, she decides to seek out the Phaerie Lord to get her back.

But finding the Phaerie Lord is just the start of it. By leaving home, Poison steps into a murderous world of intrigue and danger, where the Lords of the Realm, a sinister pantheon of demigods, are conspiring to overthrow the Hierophant- the most powerful lord of all. For the Hierophant is writing again, and his pen will decide all their fates... including Poison's.

With only her wits and her friends to aid her, Poison must survive the lethal attentions of the Phaerie Lord, rescue her sister, and thwart a plot that could mean the end of her people. What awaits her is beyond anything she can imagine.

Deeplight by Francis Hardinge (2019)

The gods are dead. Decades ago, they turned on one another and tore each other apart. Nobody knows why. But are they really gone forever?

When 15-year-old Hark finds the still-beating heart of a terrifying deity, he risks everything to keep it out of the hands of smugglers, military scientists, and a secret fanatical cult so that he can use it to save the life of his best friend, Jelt. But with the heart, Jelt gradually and eerily transforms. How long should Hark stay loyal to his friend when he’s becoming a monster—and what is Hark willing to sacrifice to save him?

#best fantasy book #poll #the 13 clocks #the edge chronicles #the wandering inn #the moorchild #peter pan in scarlet #the many deaths of laila starr #wishing chair #die #poison #deeplight

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sareinadale · 8 months ago

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a very late sharing but . . .

last month ( june 2024 ), i went to watch 4 amazing shows in germany and the netherlands. at least 3 were frozen and 1 was tanz der vampire.

it was supposed to be 3 shows, but my friend and i had a last-minute decision to watch die eiskönigin on my last day in hamburg so that's why we watched 4 shows in total.

i had the best time of my life for this trip!!

MAINLY the reason i worked hard to make this trip a reality was because i reaaaaally wanted to see bob ( who plays main cast prince hans for frozen hamburg ) and LET ME TELL YOU ohhhh it was such a joy to see his performance TWICE + waited for him after the show to talk and take a picture.

OFC i stammered and i straight up told him how speechless i am except for how amazing it was to see him perform etc. and my friend told him i came all the way from malaysia just to watch him AND at that point i think he thinks it was lowkey crazy of me to do that cause he asked "that's insane, wow! how long was your flight?" and i said 12-13 hours give or take. and he was like "pls tell me you have other activities to do while staying here in hamburg" but i was spacing out cause i was over the moon and embarrassed after that. but my friend told him that we're seeing places in hamburg and later in the netherlands to watch the dutch production so he was like "ah okay, cool 👍".

no one really prepares you for how surreal it is meeting your favorite person / celeb / actor 😭 and he was so sweet and down to earth that at one point i felt it wasn't right to come up to him and ask for a picture because i didn't have one JUST with him. like the fact that i met him twice was a blessing on its own, and i was veeeery torn from being that crazy and disrespectful fan versus "i'd rather say thank you and move on so he can have his space".

WHICH i think, was the ultimate right decision because at the end of the day, they're still an average people with a job who deserves every ounce of respect and decency with their personal time.

ANYWAY i'll never forget how magical it was seeing him perform, his FUCKING VOCALS, impeccable height and form, all that little gestures which noooo one really paid attention to except if you're delusional enough ( the amount of times i DIED gushing on the inside seeing his scenes with anna even though im not a hanna stan ). my favorite scene / gesture was when he signals to anna to CLIMB up to him during LIAOD and i GRABBED my friend's hands cause I NOTICEDDDD THAT !!!! ( it helps when our seat was the second front row, so i was already at a close-up there 👀 ).

when i tell you i literally had my eyes on him at EVERY SCENE he's in!!!! aahhhhhhh, i am blessed ✨️ and OH, his evil laugh after betraying anna? YES KING I SUPPORT YOU.

and ofc, hearing PRINZ HANS AUS DEM SÜDEN plus his reprise???! UGHHH, please take my money again!!! and LASS JETZT LOSS BY BOTH JANNEKE AND WILLEMJIN??? MINDBLOWING. PHENOMENAL. SHOWSTOPPER!!

zum ersten mal, liebe sie öffnen tür, gefährlich wenn man träumt & monster !!! ahhhh, music to my ears 💕

also ALSO i met willemijn and abla after the second ( impromptu ) show AND just like what i said in the beginning to bob, i told them hearing du bist alles was EVERYTHING to me and it's vastly different than hearing it on youtube. they are gooooorgeous gorgeous women and i felt accomplished after taking a picture with them ( even though i was freezing ).

i met jan who plays main cast olaf and aaaaaa he's basically the human version of olaf!! very lovely to talk to him and took a picture with him as well 💕

for tanz der vampire, my friend chose the seats where the actors will interact with the audience and i was ✨️ charmed ✨️ by them ; one scene happened when one of the vampires swept his cloak and nearly covered me underneath, and another scene happened when one of them TAPPED my shoulder — i felt so special looool.

there were a few of my favorite songs in there, but finally hearing them live ( totale finsternis and got ist tott ) was CHEFS KISS 💋

anyways, hearing frozen in dutch was a totally different experience in itself. it was great, and the actors really gave it their all, i think ( imho ), i prefer the german version. maaaaybe because i've been hearing their version for almost a year AND studying german A1, so i've been using it as one of my listening practices 🥲👌

nevertheless, my heart remains full even after more than a month. while my heart aches to return there ( especially hamburg ), i'm hopeful that i can make it happen again and watch frozen german in stuttgart next ( FINGERS CROSSED ).

#long rant #sareinadale #die eiskönigin das musical #tanz der vampire #frozen hamburg #frozen netherlands #frozen musical #frozen

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nausicaamusiclover20 · 3 months ago

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Decorating with Metallica: Chaos Ensues🎄

୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・ ୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・・ ୨୧・・・・୨୧・・・

When James Hetfield calls you at eight in the morning, it’s rarely a good sign.

“Y/N! What’s up?” he boomed, his voice far too energetic for the hour.

“What do you want, James?” I asked groggily, already suspicious.

“Why do you always assume I want something?”

“Because the last time you didn’t want something, Lars ended up stuck in a snowbank while Kirk claimed the sled ‘needed testing.’”

James burst out laughing. “Okay, fair. But this is different! We’re decorating the house for Christmas. We need your expert touch.”

“You’re decorating? You, crazy, are decorating for Christmas? On purpose?”

“Yeah! Come on, it’ll be fun. We’ve got everything: lights, ornaments, tinsel. It’s gonna be killer. We just need you to tie it all together.”

Against my better judgment, I agreed. Spoiler alert: I shouldn’t have.

When I arrived, the scene was pure chaos.

Kirk was practically cocooned in a massive tangle of Christmas lights, Lars was rummaging through a box of decorations like a squirrel looking for nuts, Cliff was sitting cross-legged on the floor eating cookies, and James—James was holding a hammer.

“Why do you have that?” I asked immediately, pointing at the hammer like it was a dangerous animal.

“Creative vision,” James said, waving it around with glee.

“Please don’t destroy the house,” I pleaded.

“No promises!” he shot back, grinning like a mischievous kid.

I took a deep breath and rolled up my sleeves. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

We started with the tree, which had potential until Lars declared that the traditional tree stand was “boring.”

“I’ve got an idea!” he said, dragging an empty beer keg out of the corner.

“You’re not serious…” I started, but it was already happening. They wedged the trunk into the keg, and Lars stepped back, arms outstretched like a proud sculptor.

“It’s metal!” he declared.

“No, it’s unstable,” I corrected, watching the tree sway precariously. “This thing is one sneeze away from disaster.”

Meanwhile, Kirk was valiantly trying to untangle the lights, though his progress was questionable. “It’s like the lights don’t want to cooperate,” he muttered, twisting them into knots even tighter than before.

“Just throw them on the tree,” James said, grabbing a handful of tinsel. “We’ll make it work.”

“Throw them?!” I protested. “You can’t just—”

Too late. Kirk chucked the tangled ball of lights onto the tree in one go. “Ta-da!”

“Wow,” I said, deadpan. “It’s… something.”

As we started unpacking ornaments, James held up a box of clear plastic balls with photos inside.

“Check these out!” he said proudly.

I leaned closer and immediately burst out laughing. Inside were tiny photos of the guys, each more ridiculous than the last. Kirk mid-solo with his hair flying everywhere. Lars pretending to play drums with turkey legs. Cliff in a Santa hat flipping off the camera. And James, captured mid-laugh with his face frozen in a weird squished grimace.

“These are perfect,” I said, holding up the turkey-leg ornament.

“They’re festive!” James said, carefully hanging his grimace-photo ball front and center.

As we unpacked more, I froze. “Wait a second… Is that me?!”

Sure enough, there were ornaments with my face on them. One was a candid of me glaring at the camera, another showed me mid-laugh, and the worst—an unflattering close-up of me eating pizza with sauce all over my chin.

“Who took these?” I yelled, holding up the pizza one like it was evidence in a crime scene.

Everyone immediately pointed at Lars.

“What?!” he said, feigning innocence. “It’s art!”

“It’s blackmail,” I muttered, hanging the pizza ornament at the very back of the tree.

Cliff snorted and moved it right to the front. “You can’t hide the classics, Y/N!”

As we struggled to finish the tree, James got the idea to crank up some Christmas music.

“Alright, let’s set the mood!” he said, looking through his massive collection of vinyls. “We need some classic Christmas tunes!”

“Oh no,” I muttered under my breath, already knowing what was coming.

“I’ve got the perfect song!” he announced with an evil grin. “A little classic Jingle Bells!”

I let out a sigh, relieved for a moment. Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be too bad—just a little holiday cheer, right?

James grinned again and plopped the vinyl on the turntable. The speakers crackled to life as the familiar jingle of Jingle Bells started playing… but then, instead of the soft, cheerful melody, a deep, thunderous guitar riff smashed into the room, followed by a pounding drumbeat that felt like it was shaking the house.

“Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, JINGLE ALL THE WAY!” James screamed at the top of his lungs, and the rest of the guys joined in, playing air guitar, drums, and bass like it was a live concert.

I winced, covering my ears. “I knew it,” I muttered.

Kirk, completely in his element, was shredding an air guitar solo while Lars pounded on an empty pot with a spoon like it was a cymbal. Cliff was headbanging so hard, I thought his hair might fly off. And James—oh, James—was belting out Jingle Bells like it was the most epic rock anthem ever written.

I tried to hold back a laugh, but it was impossible. “This is ridiculous,” I said, shaking my head.

“You’re welcome!” James grinned, throwing a thumbs up in my direction.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the song ended. The house was silent, save for the echo of my ringing ears.

I dropped onto the couch, exhausted. “Never again,” I muttered, rubbing my sore ears.

James plopped down beside me, still grinning like a maniac. “Admit it. That was awesome.”

“Awesome?” I asked. “That was like being trapped inside a drum solo with a megaphone.”

“It was festive,” he said with a wink. “Come on, it was metal Christmas.”

I sighed. “Well, I guess it’s better than being stuck in a place full of screaming toddlers. Barely.”

“You’re just mad because we shredded the jingle,” Lars said, giving me a playful nudge.

I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kirk jumped in with a grin. “Oh, Y/N, we’ve got something even better. Get ready for a special Metallica Christmas classic!”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for any more classics,” I muttered, preparing for the worst.

But before I could protest, James picked up his guitar (air guitar, naturally), and Lars grabbed his makeshift drumsticks (spoons), and they started playing the Jingle Bells riff... Metallica-style. Cliff joined in with a wild bass thrash, and Kirk was air-guitar-shredding like his life depended on it.

Then they all started singing, their voices loud and confident:

“Jingle bells, Metallica’s here, we’re the best band alive, Shredding all the holidays, we’ll make your Christmas thrive!” James screamed.

“We’re the kings of metal, we’re the loudest in the land,” Lars added, dramatically air-drumming.

Cliff jumped in with his bass, “Jingle bells, we rock so well, you know we’ve got the plan, We’ll melt your face with every trace of riffs and thunderous jams!”

Kirk, getting into it, belted out, “Jingle bells, all the way, we’re the ones who’ll slay!”

(He grinned, clearly proud of himself for that line.)

I sat there, blinking in disbelief. “Did you just write a metal version of Jingle Bells about how awesome you are?”

“Of course!” James laughed. “We’re Metallica! We own Christmas!”

Lars leaned in and added, “We’re the ones who make Christmas epic, Y/N. Who else would do this?”

The guys were still shredding the air instruments, and it sounded like a battle between electric guitars and drumsticks.

After what felt like an eternity of shrieking guitars and drum solo madness, the song finally ended. I slumped onto the couch, defeated. My ears were ringing, and my head was spinning from the chaos that had just gone down.

I shot them all an exaggerated glare. “You know, I think I’d rather decorate a tree with toddlers than spend another second in this noise storm.”

James smirked, clearly proud of himself. “Oh no, Y/N, Metallica’s better than a bunch of toddlers any day of the week!”

“You bet,” Lars chimed in, giving Kirk a playful shove. “Who else could rock a Christmas carol that hard? Certainly not any toddlers, that’s for sure!”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys are nuts. Absolute maniacs.”

“Well, it’s Metallica for you,” James shrugged with a wink, “we’re just built different.”

Kirk, looking more serious than usual (which was saying something), stepped forward with a grin. “Hey, Y/N, we’ve got something special for you. After all, we’ve been making you suffer through our ‘epic’ Christmas tunes... we owe you.”

Lars clapped his hands together. “Oh yeah, time to give you a real gift—Metallica’s special dedication to you, our one and only Y/N.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not seriously going to try and play something… sweet, are you?”

“Oh, sweet?” Cliff said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Is that what you want? We can do sweet. We can do soft… if you want the most metal soft rock ballad ever!”

I instantly regretted saying anything. "Wait, wait. I didn't say sweet."

James was already adjusting his guitar, giving me a knowing grin. “Get ready for Y/N’s metal ballad, all about the best friend in the world.”

Kirk started to strum his guitar softly, and I could hear them all whispering about the “perfect intro” for the song. I crossed my arms and braced myself, wondering what on earth they were about to do.

Then, without warning, they all burst into a very loud, very chaotic version of their “dedicated song.”

“Y/N, our friend, our Christmas cheer, You’re the one who’s always near! We love you more than we love beer, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!" They all screamed, slamming their instruments.

I gasped, my eyes wide. "Wait, what did you just—"

“Y/N, Y/N, you’re the best, Better than all the rest, Even when you’re losing your mind, You’re the one who’s always kind!”

I started laughing hysterically. “That’s not a song! It’s just… a bunch of nonsense!”

Lars grinned. “Yeah, but it's our nonsense. We couldn’t make it too serious, could we?”

“Of course not,” James chimed in, his grin only getting bigger. “What’s the fun in that?”

They kept going with their ridiculous lyrics, all about how awesome and “metal” Y/N was. The chorus was a wild mess of screaming, air-guitaring, and “rock star” moments. Cliff started doing exaggerated dance moves, and Kirk threw in guitar solos that made the whole thing sound way more dramatic than it should’ve been.

I was laughing so hard by the time they finished that I could barely catch my breath. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not on our watch,” James said with a wink, as the others nodded in agreement.

“Y/N,” Lars said seriously, “this is the gift you get from Metallica. Take it. It’s the most rock Christmas present ever.”

I shook my head, still laughing. “I’m going to need a few hours to recover from that. Seriously.”

“Take all the time you need,” Kirk said. “We’ll be here... making more ‘songs’ just for you.”

“And we’ll keep the Christmas chaos rolling!” Cliff added, pumping his fist in the air.

I leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes. “The day is still long,” I say to myself.

At some point during the chaos of decorating, James suddenly had an idea that made him look even more mischievous than usual.

“Guys,” he said, rubbing his hands together, his eyes lighting up. “I think we’re missing something.”

I looked over from where I was holding an ornament in one hand and a string of tinsel in the other. “What now?”

“Something that will really bring the Christmas spirit alive!” he said, already grabbing a piece of mistletoe off the shelf.

“Oh no…” I muttered under my breath, but it was too late. James was already excitedly hopping toward the door frame.

“Perfect spot!” he exclaimed. He held the mistletoe above the door with exaggerated pride, giving it a tap like it was the most magnificent thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

Lars walked over, nodding approvingly. “Good idea, man. Adds a touch of romance.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Or chaos,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

James stepped back, admiring his handiwork like he had just built a grand monument. “Yep, that’s perfect,” he said, hands on his hips, looking smug. “Just like I planned.”

I rolled my eyes, but the trouble was far from over. “You do know that’s how mistletoe works, right?” I said, my voice rising playfully. “If someone stands under it, you have to kiss.”

The moment I said it, all four of them froze, their expressions shifting into a mix of confusion and disbelief.

James halted in mid-step. “Wait, what?” he asked, blinking. “That’s a thing?”

“Yes,” I said, struggling to hold in my laughter. “No exceptions.”

Lars narrowed his eyes, his usual sarcasm dripping from every word. “So, you’re telling me I might have to kiss one of these guys?” His eyes flicked between the bandmates, clearly considering his options.

James groaned loudly, stepping back dramatically. “Well, I hope I don’t end up under it with Lars. I’d throw up.”

The room erupted into laughter, with everyone pointing at James and mocking his dramatic reaction. But Lars, clearly not one to let a comment slide, stared James down.

“Oh, yeah? Well, fine. If that’s how it’s gonna be, then I’ll just kiss Kirk!” Lars declared, his voice thick with mock authority.

Kirk raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips, and shot Lars a look. “Oh really? Well, come here, my boy,” he said, his voice suddenly taking on a sultry, over-the-top tone.

He took a step forward, dramatically puckering his lips in a way that no one could take seriously. The entire room was already cracking up, and I could barely breathe from laughing so hard.

Lars leaned in, his lips exaggeratedly puckered, making loud smooching noises as he leaned toward Kirk. “Mwah! Mwah!” he exaggerated, clearly playing it up just to get a rise out of everyone.

Kirk tilted his head back like they were starring in a cheesy soap opera, his hand clasped to his chest in mock passion. “Oh, darling, it’s been too long,” he said, in the most ridiculous sultry voice he could muster, causing the room to erupt into laughter.

I was clutching my stomach by now, tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard. “You guys are so stupid!” I gasped between fits of laughter.

Cliff, ever the opportunist, took his cue and immediately turned to me. He waved his hands dramatically in front of his face. “Y/N,” he said, still struggling to control his own laughter, “I think I’d better cover your precious eyes. You shouldn’t have to witness what’s about to go down.”

Before I could protest, Cliff moved toward me, clapping his hands over my eyes like a pair of comedy goggles. “Don’t worry, we��ll protect you from the horror,” he said, his voice shaking with laughter.

I could barely breathe, let alone get a word out. “This is insane!” I finally managed to choke out.

“You say insane, I say festive!” James interrupted, still grinning like a mischievous child. “And you gotta admit, this mistletoe idea was genius.”

I turned to James with a mock glare. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes.

James just shrugged, completely unfazed. “Stupid but festive,” he said, with a grin that could only be described as completely self-satisfied.

Lars, still mock-pouting, crossed his arms. “Next time, we’re putting the mistletoe in my spot, and no one is kissing anyone.”

“Well, Lars,” Kirk said with a wink, “we’re not all lucky enough to be under it with me.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Lars muttered, still giving Kirk a side-eye.

I was still trying to catch my breath, unable to stop laughing. “If I ever thought about leaving this house for peace and quiet, I’ve changed my mind. You guys are nuts.”

James clapped me on the back. “That’s the spirit! Who needs peace when you’ve got Metallica?”

I groaned, knowing full well that this Christmas was going to be one I’d never forget. Not because of the decorations. But because of the utter chaos that was now somehow associated with mistletoe, the four maniacs in front of me, and the insanity that I could never escape.

But, deep down, as much as I wanted to escape the madness, I knew I wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the time we were done, the house was… unique.

The tree leaned like it was actively trying to escape, covered in mismatched lights, ridiculous photo-ball ornaments, and a cowboy hat topper. The porch lights blinked like a rock concert, and the snowman outside had a mohawk and one arm.

I collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. “I can’t believe I gave up my Saturday for this.”

James flopped down beside me. “Admit it. This is the most metal Christmas ever.” “You’re all ridiculous,” I said, but I couldn’t stop smiling.

As the night wore on, the chaos mellowed into something cozy. We sat together, drinking cocoa and laughing about the day. Kirk hummed Jingle Bells softly while Lars fought the cat for a piece of tinsel, and James told a ridiculous story about setting his oven on fire trying to bake cookies.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even good. But it was ours.

“To friendship,” I said, raising my mug.

“And to never kiss Lars under mistletoe,” James added.

Lars threw a cookie at him, and we all laughed until our sides hurt.

Surrounded by my ridiculous, chaotic best friends, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

#metallica #metallica oneshot #metallica fanfiction #metallica fluff #jameshetfield #jameshetfieldxreader #kirk hammett x reader #kirk hammett #lars ulrich x reader #lars ulrich #cliff burton x reader #cliff burton #metallica x you #funny #christmas #nausicaamusiclover20 #reqs open

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knightoftherosecross · 3 months ago

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The universe is not made of matter — but music...

When walking past a blacksmith, Pythagoras noticed a strange harmony in the sounds of banging hammers.

He realized that two hammers make a harmonious sound if one is exactly twice as heavy as the other.

He worked out this 2:1 weight ratio produces an octave (notes separated by an octave sound alike).

Likewise, a 3:2 ratio creates a perfect fifth, and 4:3 a perfect fourth. This discovery evolved into our musical scale of today...

It wasn't just weight — a note's pitch is inversely proportional to the length of the string that produces it.

Pythagoras had discovered that sounds can be harmonious together because of a mathematical relationship between them...

This got him thinking. If music is essentially math, perhaps the universe *itself* is also governed by mathematical patterns?

Eventually he came to the idea that the universe and everything in it is vibrating. As math and music are interconnected, the universe too is musical. In that sense, "physical matter is music solidified."

He developed a theory called the "music of spheres," that celestial bodies "hum" a kind of music as they move, unheard by human ears:

"There is geometry in the humming of the strings, there is music in the spacing of the spheres."

He mapped the sun and planets, assigning each a unique tone based on distance and orbit.

We cannot hear this music with our ears — but it's heard by the soul...

Pythagorean thinking carried into the Middle Ages, with Boethius explaining the 3 kinds of music:

Musica mundana: unheard music of the cosmos

Musica humana: harmony between body and soul

Musica instrumentalis: music of instruments

These weren't just radical, isolated theories. This worldview permeated society for centuries.

People believed the universe was bound by a mathematical, musical harmony.

The idea was that music, math, and the cosmos were inextricably linked.

The universe was deeply mathematical and God must himself be a divine geometer.

So, if the universe is one great musical composition, how do you live your life to be in tune with it?

Well, by making music that connects you to that divine order — but you can do it in visual art too...

Art from antiquity to the Renaissance and beyond tapped into that mathematical order.

The Golden Ratio fascinated artists from Da Vinci to William Blake, who knew mathematical harmony touches us with a sense of otherworldly beauty.

In architecture, cathedral builders wove Gothic facades with immensely complex geometry.

As Pythagoras had found harmony in the mathematical order of music, geometry could produce visual harmony.

Music and visual beauty were bound by the same divine forces — notice the similarity of vibrations of musical notes in water and rose windows.

"Music is liquid architecture; architecture is frozen music."

Medieval people's obsession with math might seem strange or unnecessary to the modern-day architect.

But the results speak for themselves.

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sunscreenstudies · 6 months ago

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to all those who fear they're wasting their twenties...

“It’s taboo to admit that you’re lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven’t left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are. A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn’t transition well to adult life, that you’d fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it’s happening.

Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you’re some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. “Getting old ain’t for sissies,” your father tells you wearily. You wish they’d stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you’re not taking advantage of your youth. You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger’s bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constantly and have your weekends feel like one long epic day. You want to dance to stupid music in your stupid room and have a nice job that doesn’t get in the way of living your life too much. You want to be less scared, less anxious, and more willing. Because if you’re closed off now, you can only imagine what you’ll be like later. Every day you vow to change some aspect of your life and every day you fail. At this point, you’re starting to question your own power as a human being. As of right now, your fears have you beat. They’re the ones that are holding your twenties hostage. Stop thinking that everyone is having more sex than you, that everyone has more friends than you, that everyone out is having more fun than you. Not because it’s not true (it might be!) but because that kind of thinking leaves you frozen. You’ve already spent enough time feeling like you’re stuck, like you’re watching your life fall through you like a fast dissolve and you’re unable to hold on to anything. I don’t know if you ever get better. I don’t know if a person can just wake up one day and decide to be an active participant in their life. I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that people get better each and every day but that’s not really true. People get worse and it’s their stories that end up getting forgotten because we can’t stand an unhappy ending. The sick have to get better. Our normalcy depends upon it. You have to value yourself. You have to want great things for your life. This sort of shit doesn’t happen overnight but it can and will happen if you want it. Do you want it bad enough? Does the fear of being filled with regret in your thirties trump your fear of living today? We shall see.” - Ryan O'Connell

#this quote genuinely changed my life #do it scared #do it alone #do it for yourself #life advice #in your twenties #you must learn to be an active participant in your life #you have to value yourself #you have to want great things for your life #THIS SORT OF SHIT DOESN'T HAPPEN OVERNIGHT BUT IT CAN AND WILL HAPPEN IF YOU WANT IT #D O Y O U W A N T I T B A D E N O U G H ? ! ?#that is the question #we shall see

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todaywasamaritale · 9 months ago

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✧ mari ♡ 18 y/o cryptid fem ✧ s.her ♡ christian ✧ biromantic asexual ♡ 🇵🇸🫒 ✧ loml @yaboieif ♡

please do not put any donation links in my inbox. my financial situation renders me unable to respond to them, and a lot of minors follow me. i cannot in good faith distribute any links that could possibly be scams to my audience. unless i know you, you will be blocked. at this point i’m just going to assume you’re a bot if you still insist upon sending me links after i have explicitly stated that i cannot receive them.

mari-the-tortured-poet -> todaywasamaritale

this is the void where i scream about stuff and mostly reblog! i’ve got tags for everything as seen wayyyy down yonder. i also make moodboards for characters and ocs so you can request those too!

insta (i am closeted irl so please be considerate)

format vaguely stolen from lucy but i’m certain she’ll forgive me <3

proud member of @babygirls-inc

ABSOLUTELY everything to know about me ->

american (derogatory) // christian (the good kind, shouldn’t have to clarify but here we are😭) // scorpio // bday oct 25 // music lover and writer // fanfic consumer // local neighborhood ace with the dirtiest jokes // i swear like a sailor to offput certain men // spring supremacy tbh // avid disneyworld enjoyer and corporate disney hater 🤝 // conflict makes me itch but i’m a professional debator // singer and stuff i already said // dwdw if i hate you, you will KNOW straight up // a downbad schemer, evil even // call me a double A battery the way i be autistic and asexual // whump enjoyer and writer at times // i do rp on minecraft a lot // and then there’s chunky he’s DEAD

music ->

swiftie (taylor’s version) // k/da // heartsteel // itzy // everglow // blackpink in your area // little monster for mother monster gaga <3 // olivia rodrigo // chappell roan // Jesus was a Carpenter!!! // boygenius // emei! // precious jewel amor // derivakat // cg5 // reinaeiry // mave: MAKE A NEW WAVE!!!!! // dua lipa // ive // the warning // dove cameron // tobymac // daft punk // britney spears // madonna // gracie abrams // thomas sanders

movies & tv ->

miraculous ladybug aw yiss // vaguely intrigued in pokemon sun & moon // felix fathom and gladion mohn you are forever famous and not at all similar nono // mha // murder drones // hellaverse // tadc // saiki k // bsd // tangled the series NO SPOILERS // kimmy schmidt // schitt’s creek // the mindy project // atla // downton abbey // pride and prejudice miniseries with colin firth if you prefer the movie i’ll fight you // big bang theory // friends // star wars enthusiast // maleficent // guardians of the galaxy (what do you mean there are three movies??? there are only two uh huh….) // juno // the perks of being a wallflower // spiderverse // barbie // enchanted // hunger games // narnia // everything everywhere all at once // RAINBOW ROCKS // princess diaries // enola holmes // klaus // princess protection program // high school musical (no spoils for the series) // legally blonde // mean girls // frozen // alien stage!!! // project mc2 // the owl house

games ->

star guardians xayah x rakan truther // minecraft // sims 4 // prodigy // yandere sim // roblox // dress to impress // doors // the mimic // fnaf

broadway ->

wicked // moulin rouge (not the movie) // she loves me // jeremy jordan is God’s gift to earth have you even heard him giggle tho. have you // newsies // shrek the musical >>>>>>> // holiday inn // dear evan hansen // mean girls // anastasia URGH brainrot // six // heathers // mystic glen // frozen

books/fanfic ->

keeper of the lost cities // the impossible quest // septimus heap // the land of stories // school for good and evil // narnia // artemis fowl don’t even TALK to me about the movie i’m still fuming // amulet // wonder // star of deltora // passerine // thirteen

DNI: transphobes, zionists, aphobes, homophobes, bots or those that appear as such, potterheads, fatphobes, xenophobes, racists, pedos, misogynists, taylor antis, transmisogynists, and the like! basically, people who are little haters for no reason and/or support those who are. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF I SEE YOU IN MY NOTES. SERIOUSLY.

caution to my younger followers: this blog DOES contain sensitive content and language, but i’m not your mom so legally i can’t stop you. and if your mom doesn’t accept you or your identity, i’m adopting.

babygirls inc (my guys! my dudes! my homies) : @yaboieif & @jingledbell

other faves: @halucynator // @ninadove // @demyxdancer // @emmafaeru // @pwippy

tagging system ->

#mari reblogs -> anything i reblog!

#mari rambles -> i talk sometimes

#mari rants -> i’m mad sometimes

#ask mari -> used for any ask games i reblog, the box is always open

#mari answers -> i answer sometimes

#mari fangirls -> i’m in fandoms sometimes

#mari’s mutuals -> i post about/with cool peeps sometimes

#mari and eifie/jingle/lucy/spes/etc. -> i post with specific cool peeps sometimes

#mari writes -> i write sometimes

#mari whumps -> i whump sometimes

don’t forget to do your daily clicks! in addition to palestinian support and relief, there are so many other causes that arab.org has to support. i know esp as a minor without a solid banking situation that it can be easy to feel helpless when you can’t donate, but this is something meaningful without having to pay money that truly makes a difference!

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ran-orimoto · 2 months ago

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• { Iniziando da capo una tempesta nella testa } Restarting again from a brainstorm •

[ LMAO I said I would put my effort in writing and I did it. I put my butt on gear and kept the promise, -because I had already broken one, so I didn’t want to risk to make the same mistake twice in a row-. Now, if I could adopt the same attitude to write my bachelor thesis, I would be the happiest in the world, so once I cross publish this here, off I’ll go⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️. I believe in me! ]

[ Context: Junpei and Izumi met again in Parma four months ago and have started hearing from each other more often. The calls Izumi shares with him and Takuya instill in her a sense of nostalgia that takes her back to Italy sooner than the boys had expected. She couldn’t miss a snowy trip to Val di Fassa organized by a Kouji who could have never imagined he would spend holidays with the whole group.

The story is set during San Silvestro, on the 31st of January, or better, some minutes after it because anything can happen in the first beats of a new year, even to Junpei. ]

XXX

“I like this song, y’know? It would be nice to go dancing it together, eh eh.”

“Va bene! What a great idea, it will be fun!”

…

Every spell was meant to wear off at the stroke of midnight and his, whatever it had consisted in, hadn’t been an exception. However, he hadn’t been warned by the usual, sumptuous bells of a clocktower, but by the screech typical of a CD that has been abruptly interrupted, so by one of those awful noises that could really spoil even the best weather.

And yet, the music had kept on going, indifferent to the lancinating stridor never ending in his ears, to the stasis it had frozen his mind in despite thick pillows and big stoves, to the wince of slight fear he welcomed, once he gulped at what had sounded like the first heart pulse he had ever heard in his life.

Confused and disoriented in his own world and skin now that the enchantment had taken off, without even giving him the chance to ask for a little, if not minuscule, concession. After all, it wasn’t like he would have praid for the miracle of a reverting night, of stars spinning backwards to disappear behind Val di Fassa’s mountaintops, of the Moon diving in some dark lake like a biscuit dipped in a mug of chocolate. He would have simply settled for just a crumb of what it had stolen away from him too soon. All that boldness, recklessness, that hint of arrogance too which would often often fog the meaning of life in the mind of some during the first hours of the new year.

It was a special kind of nonsense inebriety coming after having gobbled down one or two drops of Teroldego or having left a glass of spumante full to the brim on the table. It would allow people to do what they would never do in other occasions, because it would bring along an accentuated sensitivity to the flow of time, the dash of the years, the succession of the songs.

It was the common sight of the shadow mounds of grey swabs project on Earth.

So, yeah, he guessed things might have gone a bit differently. Endowed with those special gifts, guided by such a magic and urged by the awareness it wouldn’t last forever, he would have grabbed that hand at once. And , maybe, he would have also managed to look into the eyes of a beautiful cyclone without pushing his gaze downwards, not certainly at the level of those fingers and their flashes of violet, but even more downwards, on his thighs which his palms had attached themselves to with a refound stickiness.

“ Su !” Izumi exclaimed and he could only reply through an awkward chuckle, reaching out to try dragging her along with him, down into a dive in his universe of perplexity and bubbles transforming certainties into ambiguities.

Thus, he soon felt her arm hesitantly pulling away, then her parting from him with some steps backwards taken on her ticking boots. By doing so that rapidly, she gave him the impression of a gradual suck of air draining him of the freshness of the still distant spring, with the consequence that he got left inert in the asphyxiating embrace of his body’s heat.

Fortunately, she spoke again as soon as she returned onto her seat, in front of her coca cola and its munched straw, at the opposite end of the table…Or so he believed she had, at least, not expecting he would find himself stranded below a marine sky having just opened above the Alps like an unexpected aurora borealis.

“Oh, I see,” After having occupied the chair Kouichi had been on, until he, - the quiet, sober Kouichi in the flesh!-, had been incredibly persuaded by Takuya and Kouji, and Tomoki too, to join them for another toast, she seeked for satisfying comfort in the sinuosity of a contorted pose. With her head resting on her knuckles and bending to a side to follow the slope of her lips, she giggled through an echo of embarassment which he was so used to seeing on the reflection of his face, in the opaque mirror of a bottle, but he wasn’t when it came to hers at all. “I think I got carried away by the general excitement. You weren’t serious, were you?”

There might be a pinch of irony in the fact that for the whole duration of that dinner, that one had been the only instant he had spotted clarity in both words and thoughts, and the mere reason what that she was right…Like always, needless to specify that.

Actually, when he put a certain amount of effort in picturing a dimension in which he had brought himself to accept her invitation, - as if he hadn’t been the one who had invited her in a first place!-, he gasped at the realization he had no idea how that story would have unfolded next.

From experience, some sixth sense whispering from inside his chest reassured him he would have made a fool of himself. Therefore, he immediately grimaced at the fantasy of a nightmare dotted with stutters, forced coughs and sneezes, hands rubbed against the checkered feast of yellow on his waistcoat as, of course, they would have grown so sweaty at invisible touches grazing the rosy fabric of a pretty winter dress. Oh, and a final, sonorous face-plant that couldn’t miss to coronate the performance, one drawing the attention of everyone present the hotel hall after having spoiled their jubilation.

In truth, he couldn’t remember a single party during which he had ever messed up that terribly. Indeed, he couldn’t really remember a party during which he had messed up in a first place and hadn’t attracted each single spotlight over him. He had also danced with his fellow sopranos during the celebrations of their successes and he hadn’t only managed to carry out the delightful task brilliantly, but he had also taken their squeals away by putting on display his surprising skills, -and for the record, those were the words of the ladies in question!-.

Still, when it came to Izumi, he was aware it would be totally different. Everything was in her company…Especially the reliable, confident, eloquent, gallant young man he had grown into, that person she hadn’t regrettably got to meet yet in those four months of frequent videocalls. He had hoped she would in those days of holiday in the cold Trentino, but she hadn’t had that luck over there, either. On the contrary, she had stayed by the clumsy Junpei’s side for the whole time, included on those occasions he had slipped on ice and had created impromptu snow angels by frantically agitating his limbs out of frustration.

Honestly. What the hell was I even thinking!?

A little overwhelmed, he sighed and gave up on controlling his shoulders’ resigned sagging: his brain seemed to want to work only to sabotage his plans, or better, him himself. Staring at the glass in front of him, he decided to finally pick it up, but he did just to fiddle with its content, make the precious liquid rotate, generate little waves that failed to make the foam on its surface fade at each lap.

“ Now that you’ve asked me, I’m not sure whether I was or not.”

Nevertheless, he still attempted to clean the one floating on his conscience, though he made sure to occasionally send strained laughters in Izumi’s direction, certainly not as fleeting as only hers could be. Actually, the very first of them, already heavy and lumbering, ended up dwelling on her flickering petals for more seconds than he had planned, waiting for them to completely open and uncover the majestic scenario from before. When he forced it to hastily return on that thin, transparent edge off which it was easy to fall in the thick mist stretching below, he felt like something had changed but his absent focus couldn’t seem to want to sharpen that perception.

“I had figured as much, but I didn’t want to make assumptions. It…Would have been rude to let your words hang like that. So, I came and tried.”

“Had you because you believe I can’t dance?” However, since those lilac buds could open the door to the only place in which he was convinced he could retrieve the transparency he had been longing for, that’s where that smirk went back, plunging the tip of its curve in alcohol just to be carried away by the tide, in a journey through libeccios, lightnings and, inevitably, thunders.

As soon as he woke up on a dreamy shore, the sensation that something was so different from what it had been lately came before the one of pinkies twitching, dim colours reigniting, gusts of a strong breeze whistling. “Eh eh, that wouldn’t have been rude at all. Many think I can’t dance and, I mean, I can’t blame them: I’m aware I hardly look like someone who can.”

“I have no reason to have got doubts. Many, me included, also believed you weren’t able to sing, and yet…?”

Then, he sat up, no matter where he exactly did, whether on humid sand or his chair, because in both dream and reality he eventually smiled at the crystallinity of a clean sky, though in the latter he didn’t with with the immense relief of a castway, but with the goofy grin only Junpei could crack.

Especially at Izumi.

“And yet what ah ah…?”

“Don’t act as if it’s hard to predict what I was implying,” She retorted in a steady tone while hugging her torso, her natural frankness making him lose teasing duels before they even began. Yet, probably unluckily to her, it was right because her orbs were soaked in so much honesty that they themselves betrayed her, by showing him new unusual signs of that shyness his ears had previously been tickled by. “And whatever, who cares if you’re also decent at dancing, right? The song you said you like finished ages ago.”

Never stopping staring at each other like if they had been condemned to live as statues together, they blinked in unison as they listened to the slow duet that was currently advancing in the heart of the room.

“ Oh mio Dio ,” Izumi trusted her giggles with her comment. She didn’t add anything else, except a millimeter of tongue she promptly hid behind her hand.

“Yeah, you can absolutely say that,” His amused reply followed immediately afterwards, babbling about opinions that hadn’t been phrased, -and to him, they had never needed to be for their gist to be grasped-. “It’s from a cult movie I watched as a teen. It’s mushy, but I remember it gets very catchy as it progresses.”

While diverting his pupils from her after what had felt like so long, no desire for more determination, courage, impulsiveness, stupidity and whatever else you could add as ingredient for an illusion ever crossed his mind. There was only he and the dear struggle of imagining her hand in his, of trying again and, like that, a spell that had never existed, one which, most all, he had never needed, definitely broke. If he had asked her once, he could do it for a second time, glueing his nose on the same wood, taking the same deep breath, inhaling in the same warmth, pronouncing the same stammering question.

More or less.

“I-I like this song. Just a bit, though, I promise I’m not sentimental! It would be nice if, y’know, we could-“

“Go dancing it together?”Actually, she cut him short, and happy as he was, he allowed himself to get persuaded she had completed his sentence not because she had already heard it, she had been invited to dance twice, but because she had got the glimpse of pure honesty in his ponds of honey as well. And…Maybe, why not, of something else too, which poured red wine she had never tasted in her cheeks.

“Uh, y-yes! Exactly!”

He stood up as soon as he felt smooth velvet caressing his palm, tenderly mocking her intention of lifting his big size. Still, he allowed himself to be led to the dance floor by her as if he was as light as a feather, free from all his trivial worries, futile complexes.

Marching, clapping, spinning and rumbling next to that tornado she was, he wondered if someday he might come to find limpidity in the tempest they could assemble together, in the clouds of a storm.

But for now he, indeed, they would go on dancing, not wanting to waste further time, other seconds of that night, another single song from that party.

XXX

Buon anno, Junpei. Buon anno, Izumi. Buon anno a tutti noi!

Because, of course, I wish you all spent a good beginning of this promising 2025, -we always have to hope in good things!-.

Italian notes (not many this time, another present!)

• I want to start from a note about the title, as here come they, the beautiful language gaps. Brainstorm, which I ‘ve found an ideal term for what is happening in Junpei’s mind for well-known reasons, is not a term I can translate in italian with the same “pun”. We have got nothing similar here, so I had to be lamer in my own language merely replacing it with a simple “Tempest in the head”. However, I love how the whole thing sound in my head tbh. I love the random rhyme (I hadn’t planned it lmaoooo).

• Va bene!: The longer, italian “ OK! “ In my head it sounds like the same Izumi pronounced at him in Train of Hope, when he tells her he has got a present… *puts thousand of heart emoticons *.

• Val Di Fassa: A valley of Dolomiti, mountain groups dominating the Eastern Alps. Val di Fassa is precisely in Trentino, in its north-east.

• Teroldego: red wine typical of Trentino. The end. Ah listen, I don’t drink just like the Izumi of my stories, so I know nothing about this stuff, even if my father is a wine sommelier lol. Now that I think about it, I could ask him about more details tomorrow.

• Su!: Common exhortation to push someone to do something. A bit like c’mon…?

• “Oh mio Dio”: Oh my God. It’s always that, but I don’t want to skip any clarification despite repetitions among chapters.

#junzumi #junpei shibayama #izumi orimoto #digimon frontier #Junpei #izumi #back on my nonsense trash yayyyyyy #I love you Junpei I can’t do anything about it my son who has grown up too fast #ah the song they eventually dance is Time of my Life LMAOOOOOOOOOO #after all this song was born from it because listening to it in my father’s car inspired me #zura writes

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