#he's obsessed with writing songs and recording and performing
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you might’ve already seen this but i’ll still share it just in case! <3
russ ballard for kerrang! magazine, august 22, 1985. [x]
"Russ 'Typhoon' Ballard" amazing.
i have seen this, but i forget things exist a lot and forget all of what i've read, so i do love reading things again. and again. and again and again and again an-
i love the way this is worded:
taken their lick-smackin' choice.
and the list has gotten MORE impressive over the years!
SEE, SEE, THIS, I KNEW IT HAD TO HAVE BOTHERED HIM:
AT LEAST A LITTLE. like, he's aware of WHY he hasn't been known that much, as he said in the other part
this part
but he's always like.. he always seems like he's fine and happy with everything, but i knew that him basically being left in the dust all the time HAD to have bothered him at some point. i don't understand how it wouldn't. and things like this:
and then as he says, they'd talk him out of doing his own songs, i mean.
yeah he didn't tour for a long time and the lack of promoting his stuff obviously was a problem, but it makes me sooo sad that his stuff would just be ignored like this, and the way it was like a "this song is a hit, but not if YOU do it" kind of deal with him. it's not like his music is bad. he has a beautiful voice and everything too, like. give him a break?? he deserves the entire world???
anyway, i could go on about this forever but i'll stop. i don't have that much of a grasp on how the music industry worked/works but it just seems unfair. ANYWAY.
i'm crying where do they come up with this kind of wording:
also i like how this says soccer instead of football at first:
i've seen him do that depending on who he's talking to and where they're from, he sometimes will do things like say soccer instead, which i add to the pile of reasons he always seems very aware and thoughtful and like ,what's easier for the people around him to understand.
he''s so cute, i need to see him as coach ballard. I NEED TO KNOW IF HE WORE SHORTS. i realized forever ago that i've never seen his legs and i'll never stop thinking about it, excuse me
this part is making me laugh too much
i need to know if he actually SAID SONG or if it was a typo while they were turning this into text.
"i wanted to see my song grow up"- russ ballard
without context, i wouldn't even question it, i'd just be like "yep that sounds like russ. obsessed with songs"
i love the way he takes things people say to him to heart so much and really thinks about it and applies it to his own life. when it comes to life choices, he does not mess around.
THE WORDING MAKES ME LAUGH SO MUCH:
russ ballard, genial genius of the lamp. what does genial mean, i have to look it up
yep, that's russ.
and. what does plaintive mean(there are many words i don't know)
sdgjhsdg okay. i am. losing it at the image of his phone ringing off the hook from people calling him and just sounding so sad begging him for songs while he's being all cheerful and friendly, sharing his song magic.
who wrote this article, wait. the first page says malcolm dome, does that mean he wrote this? i need to time travel and send him a cake for this or something.
i love seeing things like this from the 80's:
"i may even tour again!" and here he is in 2025, going on 80 years old, putting out a double album complete with a tour for it with his band, still so happy and passionate about everything.
he is actually adorable and i love him
#excuse me throwing my thoughts all over this but#going through this has made my entire morning#💜#he's always so positive about the other versions of his songs though like he loves everything#he tells that story when he does so you win again live#and he follows it up with 'and they were right!' because he does like how they did it#can't wait to hear his version of that too though on one of the new albums#he gets to officially do one of the songs he wanted to do#also#russ is just#he loves his family and#he's obsessed with writing songs and recording and performing#it would have been good if he could have had somebody that was good at promoting/marketing stuff for him#because that was probably one of the biggest issues#there have been clippings of advertisements people have saved over the years like#'russ ballard's new album' stuff in newspapers and things so there was a little bit of that#but anyway i think the way things are right now is good regardless#because there's also an issue a lot of people point out after they get really famous#they miss being able to interact with fans because it just becomes too much#the more people there are the harder it becomes to give the same kind of attention back to them#like individual people#and he looooves interacting with people when he can
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Like We Were In Paris
kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader
part two

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, keeping it under the radar the entire time. you’re both invited to the gala de pièces juanes 2025, and it’s the first time you get to see him perform live
warnings: not proofread at all, celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is like…mid twenties?), whole lot of fluff, basically ji-yong being a simp, taeyang & rosé being captains of the ship, use of y/n, i don’t use tumblr so bare with me while i figure this out. i tried to keep descriptions of the readers outfit vague so you could imagine it to your liking!
word count: 4.1K
nat’s notes: hey y’all! i was convinced into writing a g-dragon fic (by like 3 people). i’m kinda obsessed with this. i had so many ideas while writing it & so im kind of tempted to write more of these two, but i don’t know!! this is my first like… irl person x reader (ive only written one other fic on here lmao) & i am new to g-dragon, bigbang, all that so i kept it pretty current. to me these two are very dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift coded (or just reputation coded), i cant explain why it just makes sense. the divider right below is from enchanthings here on tumblr, and the other one later on….idk its for my wattpad LMAO. anyways i hope you enjoy, and im sorry in advance if you hate it. toodles!
You still remember the first time you met Ji-yong.
You were in need of some inspiration. Working on your fourth album, the intense gaze of your record label, your management, your fans, and your musically gifted peers was crushing you. It seemed to do more harm than good. For weeks, you stared at notebooks and computers and instruments. Your manager tried to get you with various song writers. Nothing worked. So, after some persuasion from your best friend (who knew you better than anyone, having been your best friend since you were kids), you decided to do a vacation. Just you and some required security (per compromise with your team). You decided to go to Seoul, having loved it in the few times you’ve passed through on a tour. The fans there were great; always warm and welcoming and always one of your loudest shows. The culture was breathtaking. It felt like the perfect opportunity.
Your team had found a studio for you to work in. You were only there for a few weeks, but they wanted some hope that you’d come back to America with something. It was week two when you met him. You were walking towards your studio, he was walking out of his. The two of you made eye contact, and you were instantly swarmed with warmth. You didn’t believe in love at first sight (neither did he, to be fair), but you started to question it as you walked past him.
From then on, each of you seemed nosy about the other. He asked his friends who the girl was in the other studio. “Oh! The American! That’s Y/N,” He recognized your name, and now your face. He hadn’t seen you outside of a red carpet or a concert venue photo, so he didn’t recognize you with little-to-no makeup and comfortable clothes. But once it clicked, it clicked. You had asked someone working at the studio about him. They mentioned his name, Kwon Ji-Yong, and you googled him that night in your rental house.
You knew about G-Dragon, the impact he had on K-Pop and the music industry. You had heard a song here and there, but you had never seen him. Not til that day in the studio.
It was a few days until you saw him again. Your schedules just missing each other. Then, one day, your producer was running freakishly late to your meeting time, and Ji-yong was walking out of his own studio. You stood there, more like paced there, tapping wildly on your phone trying to get in contact with your producer, whispering to yourself in frustration.
Ji-yong had the courage to speak up, say hello, and the rest is history. Stories for another time, maybe.
Your friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship, defying all cliches of long distance and the terrors that often comes with it. It helped that he was on hiatus and you had became a professional of staying out of the public eye. You both wanted to keep what you had to yourself. Your teams did, too, but they got less strict as two months eventually became two years. It was on your terms now, when you'd let everyone know about your status, but neither of you had felt ready to let the world in on something so…yours. So peaceful, so effortless, so pure. It was easy, the two of you traveling between South Korea and America to spend time together, or going on vacations together, or just taking quiet retreats into each others homes.
Nobody ever thought of it, either. There was no reason to. Unless they’d been in the studio that day, the media had no way to expect any crossover of America’s Princess and the King of K-Pop. The media would rather gossip about you in relationships with the usual Hollywood celebrities, some of whom were just friends, some you’d never met. Neither of you mind rumors, it kept the media out of your relationship and sometimes they were hilariously ridiculous. So, you let the press talk their talk. You and Ji-yong kept to yourselves, careful on your information you’d share with friends (it was easy for things to be leaked, these days).
When Ji-yong told you he was officially making his comeback to the industry, you were ecstatic for him. You knew how much he loved making music and performing. You also knew, though he’d never admit it, sometimes when he’d sneak to join you on tour, he got a bit jealous watching you sing and dance on stage. He’d watched you collab with numerous artists, tasting just about every genre you could before eventually finding your new sound. It made him sad, some nights, missing that glow you often had instead. But most nights? Most nights he was beaming from behind the stage, watching you do what you loved most. Most people sink in this world, but you? You swam, no, you effortlessly floated in the sea of fame. And it was obvious to anyone around you. Part of what he loved most about you was your creative drive, something he shared. It inspired him, more than you’d ever know.
Ji-yong's comeback had been more than successful, as expected. Throughout your relationship, the two of you had fumbled with varying songs and styles for each other. Oftentimes more playful than not. You guys fueled each other in the best ways. You released your newest album in 2024, and you were about to start your world tour in the early months of 2025. Ji-yong would follow suit, his first solo album in years coming out soon and then starting his own tour.
Both of you were wracked with nerves, spending days in rehearsals, wardrobe tests, photo shoots, traveling all over for various projects. It had been weeks since you’d seen each other. After the holidays you were swimming in press for your new tour. He had been equally busy, filming his show, performing at various shows. You both loved it. You loved your jobs and you loved each others jobs. But even you two would struggle on the days where it’d been long, exhausting, and mentally draining; wanting nothing more than each other’s warmth.
The Gala des Pièces Jaunes, a show that helps collect donations for charity in Paris, had invited both of you to perform, along with other various stars. Little did they know, they had invited the world's most popular secret couple. You had been ecstatic. Not only did you love the message the event had, but you loved the idea of sharing the stage with so many extremely talented artists. Including, your boyfriend.
The night before the show, you had inconspicuously snuck your way towards Ji-yong’s room. You had wanted to get a hotel room together, but knew that you had to be careful with the amount of eyes on both of you this weekend. Still, that didn’t stop you from wondering around until you ended up at his door. With your special knock– each knock a syllable in your names –you waited patiently for him to open up the door to you. His eyes were sparkly, even in the shitty lighting. They always seemed to do that with you.
“Finally,” He breathed, pulling you into the room quickly. You giggled as he used your body to shut the door, his arms around you tightly. You had seen each other, earlier in the day during rehearsals. Pretending like it was your first time meeting him and Taeyang was hell. Pretending you didn’t know their names, pretending Ji-yong didn’t pick out your outfit on FaceTime, and pretending you didn’t want to latch on to him and never let go.
The only people who knew about you two were Young-bae, of course. He and Daesung had known about you for a while now, teasing their friend and bandmate for not telling them right away. The other person was Rosé, who’d been your friend for years and one of your closest friends in the celebrity world, both of you having blown up in popularity around the same time. Both of them seemed equally amused, watching you and Ji-yong try to act nonchalant around the other. Young-bae chuckling as Ji-yong watched your rehearsals in a stunned silence. He knew every song of yours by heart (even the ones from before he met you), and even when trying to act like he didn’t he could feel himself mouthing the words as he watched you and your dancers on the stage. Rosé would wink at you when she’d walk past you, and everytime you almost missed it cause you were too busy watching Ji-yong talking with his team.
But now, the two of you didn’t have to act. You couldn’t stop laughing in awe, Ji-yong smothering your face in feather-light kisses. You held on to him, your face turning pink as he continued his full-blown kiss attack. “I missed you, jagiya, so much.” He muttered against your skin. Finally, he pulled back to look over your face, pressing another kiss to your lips. You melted into his arms, your mind momentarily fuzzy. There was nothing else but him. His hands on your waist, his shirt clutched in your hands, his scent that had became your favorite. Him. Him. Him. It was always him.
“I missed you more,” You whispered, running your fingers through his minty-colored hair. He closed his eyes softly, as if soaking in your touch. Your heart swelled, as it always seemed to do with him. You had never felt this way, not in any of your previous relationships. You had been positive for a while now, Ji-yong was it for you. “Are you excited?” You asked him, tilting your head in curiosity.
He slowly opened his eyes, meeting your soft expression. He loved how you looked at him. It was something you couldn’t hide, not even at rehearsals. He sighed, pulling you by your hand further into the hotel room. “Yes. Nervous, too.” He added. You nod in understanding, he had only performed a few times since the comeback. He loved it after, always, but the nerves had been hard to shake off, even still.
“I’m excited to see you,” You beam, still keeping your fingers interlocked. You hadn’t seen him live, not yet. You had been back in America finishing up your album and starting a press tour at the time, but you always called him right before he went on to give him a final good luck, and you always snuck onto a live stream to watch.
He rolled his eyes shyly, leaning his head into your neck. “Young-bae is going to make so much fun of me.”
“Why?”
“Cause I’m more nervous for you to see my performance than I was at MAMA.”
You laughed at that, bringing his face into your hands and looking at him. “You’re going to be amazing. More than amazing. You’re going to be perfect.” You reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. “And I am not afraid to bully Young-bae,” He laughed at this, throwing his head back slightly. He knew it was true, your friendship with Taeyang almost too sibling-like, to the point you two teased each other about everything.
“Are you nervous at all?” He asks you, looking over your expression, as if he’s trying to find your answer in your gaze. He did this a lot, knowing you for so long he began to pick up on things, even before you did.
“I am, but only a little,” You decide finally. It was a short set, only a few songs to perform. You had picked your most popular hits and your newest single for the setlist. And your outfit was your favorite part, matching your dancers whilst still making sure you stood out and felt confident. “Oh! I have to tell you about this thing I saw.” You pulled out of his arms, suddenly distracted by something you wanted to tell him about when you were in your room.
Ji-yong watched you quietly. His eyes filled with a lightness and admiration. He listened to you talk as you grabbed a water, waving your arms wildly to dramatize the story. He smiled, leaning against the couch in his room as he thought about how much he loved you. He loved everything about you. From the way you talked about your passions to the way you scrunched your face when you ate something you didn’t like. He loved the way you danced in the car when your favorite song came on. He loved the way you loved the people around you. He loved the way you waltzed into his heart like it was your home, and wrapped your arms around him like you were his home. You are his home, he’s sure of that. Even now, as you ramble into near nonsense about something he has no understanding of. He still watched you like you had been the most beautiful work of art he’d discovered. He was certain that was true.

Le Gala des Pièces was in full swing. Everything was going well, perfect, all of it. And you were backstage, getting your makeup touched up as you saw someone walk past your open door. You recognized him instantly, you always did. And part of you couldn’t let him go on stage without a final goodbye. “I’ll be right back!” You pushed yourself out of your chair, rushing after him. You could see him walking through the hall, too busy with his own thoughts to notice you coming to grab his wrist.
Ji-yong felt your touch, his head moving so fast he swore he heard a crack. His eyes met yours instantly, then looked you over in surprise. He hadn’t seen your outfit yet. It complimented his, something he wasn’t sure if you had done on purpose or not. A black and red outfit, the red the exact same shade as his tie. As he looked you over, you could see the different emotions flicker on his face. Admiration, lust, maybe hunger, and love. He looked up at your face again, smiling, “Hi, Y/N,” His name feels unfamiliar on his tongue, now. Over the years, nicknames had become your normal. Another thing to add to the list of things you hated about pretending you didn’t know him.
Your mouth hung open for a moment as you looked at him. You hadn’t been sure if you’d see him before he went on, so you hadn’t exactly planned your choice of words. “I wanted to wish you luck,” You stuttered out, suddenly aware of how many eyes could be on the two of you.
Ji-yong’s eyes were laced with amusement, seeing your cheeks turned pink. “I have to grab something to drink, come with me?” He asked, playing it as cool and casual as humanly possible. You itched to reach for his hand, but kept to yourself as you followed him.
As soon as you were in a dark corner, away from prying eyes, he was on you. The two of you pressed your lips together like perfect puzzle pieces. Your hands roamed his chest as his roamed your waist. You hummed happily, wishing this moment with him would never end. Adrenaline, nerves, excitement all were running high. From the show, from being around each other, from sneaking around. You felt his hands squeeze your hips, the two of you forcing yourselves to pull away. You smiled up at him, almost dizzy from him simply being in front of you. “Good luck,” You beamed.
“Is that how you wish everybody good luck?” He asks playfully. You rolled your eyes, smacking his chest as you adjusted yourselves. “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done,” He leans to kiss you again, “I love you,”
“I love you more,” You winked as he sauntered off towards where his team was waiting for him. You stayed back a moment, blushing wildly and hopping in place happily before rushing back to your own people.
You watched from backstage, wrapping yourself in a black robe to hide yourself as much as you could from the crew around you. You had passed Taeyang, who gave you a subtle handshake as he passed by for his cue. You watched in awe, seeing Ji-yong, no, G-Dragon on that stage. Seeing him do it all in person…it was ethereal. The way he moved through the stage and carried himself with this aura. He was almost mesmerizing, distracting you from the chaos backstage and your own nerves. It didn’t shock you, you’d known forever how talented he was. You’d seen videos of him from before you met, you’d seen him work for hours upon hours in studios, and you’d seen him on set for his music videos. But this was different. This was really him. This was what he was born to do, if destiny and fate were real. This was exactly that.
“Hey, pretty,” You turned your head to Rosé, Rosie, who only smiled knowingly. She linked her arm with yours, leaning into you. “You happy?”
“Happiest,” You answered, “He’s so good.”
“He is.” Rosie agreed. She giggled at your face. The two of you had met years ago, you had blown up in the music scene shortly after Blackpink. The two of you crossed paths at an event, not knowing anyone else there, and you two stuck by each others sides much like you were now. You two had been closest friends. When you told her about your first date with Ji-yong, she was ecstatic. She knew Ji-yong, and she knew that he’d be good to you. She wanted you to be happy, and that's what you were. Always when it came to Ji-yong, you were the happiest person she'd seen.
You watched the rest of his set. You smiled giddily as he and Taeyang performed together. You bit your thumb nail as you watched him move around the stage in the second outfit with the sparkling black jacket. Rosie nudging you every time she noticed you blush.
When he was off the stage, he had found you waiting for him amidst the crowd of people. He smiled happily, reaching you without much thought about anyone else. His arms swooped you in, hugging you tightly. You laughed, hugging him back. “That was amazing!” You beamed. For a moment, the two of you forgot where you were. Forgetting the curious eyes who thought you barely knew each other. When your senses kicked in, he was quick to put you back at a friendly distance. Your gaze moved to Taeyang, “You guys are phenomenal!” You hugged Young-bae too, hoping that if you acted friendly with everyone it wouldn’t cause more suspicion. “Thank you,” Ji-yong muttered, suddenly shy again. He bowed quickly at you, trying to play it off. In moments, you were hearing your name called, and his own team was surrounding him. You smiled warmly, disappearing in the crowd of crew and stars.
Ji-yong wanted to keep close to you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms until the very moment you were on stage, but that was impossible. You were back in your greenroom, getting makeup and hair touched up, and then you were taking photos with crew members and doing more vocal warm ups. You were being whisked around every which way. He and Young-bae were staying close together, feeling the most comfortable with each other as they simply watched the show continue.
Young-bae was smiling to himself. He had been so happy for Ji-yong when he introduced you to him and Daesung. It was blatantly obvious to see how happy you made him. You made Ji-yong smile at every moment, you'd giggle at his jokes (even if Young-bae didn't think they were that funny), you would help him if you noticed his hesitation. You encouraged him. You built him up. You even started secretly learning Korean, calling Young-bae for help every now and again. The next time you visited Ji-yong, you had managed to say your first sentence in Korean, and it was actually good. You were this ray of sunshine. Anyone who knew the two of you knew that. He was honored to be in on your guys’s little secret. Otherwise, he’d feel cheated out of watching two people he cared about falling in love.
Unfortunately, Ji-yong didn’t get a chance to see you before you were whisked away under the stage to make your entrance. Still, he watched quietly from backstage. He clasped his hands together, watching the crowd scream with anticipation as your intro started. Fog began to cover the stage, the lights flashing every which way with the music. Your dancers surrounded the area you’d rise from. Once you did, you immediately went into the first song, dancing on every note. The crowd was wild. Ji-yong smiled proudly. On stage you were someone else entirely. You were confident, you moved with ease and exact precision. Your body moved with your dancers, most you’ve known for years. Their hands grazing your hips as you all moved together in sync. Ji-yong never got jealous, knowing how these things worked. He was no stranger to any of it.
He’d seen you perform, maybe a hundred times now, and yet it never got old. As the song transitioned to another popular track, the crowd somehow getting even louder, he thought about how you might’ve looked earlier. Standing in the same spot, only a short time ago. He could only assume you looked much like he did now. Body swaying to the familiar music, mouthing the words, eyes sparkling at him like he had hung the moon and the stars only for you. He wasn’t sure what he did to get so lucky.
He clapped as the crowd did. You were at the far end of the stage now, dancing with another male dancer to the third song. The song had been written for him, though not many people knew that other than you and him. A romantically charged song. It was one of his favorites. He remembered the day you showed it to him, all shy and quiet, which was unusual for you. You had told him you had a song to show him, wanting to release it as a single in the future. When you played it, you only stared at his face while he stared at the computer screen. He considered marrying you right there.
As you performed your fourth and final song, he found his way to where you’d end up off stage. He played with his sleeves, smiling shyly as people greeted him as they passed by. He wanted to see you. No, he needed to see you.
And he did. You came off the stage, glistening from glitter and sweat. You hugged your dancers and thanked them, high-fiving other members of your crew. As your eyes met his, he could see them light up. But you stayed put, not wanting to make another scene. He winked at you, moving in the direction of your greenroom.
It took you a couple minutes to get your micpack off and head towards your dressing room to change. Once you did, you smiled wide at the man waiting inside. “We did it!” You beamed as you jumped at him. He caught you easily, swinging you loosely in his arms as you pressed your lips against his. It wasn’t rushed or adrenaline-filled like before. This was softer, still full of energy, but only relief, love, and pure joy. “We fucking nailed it, baby,” You said as you looked up at him. He swore he might die from the way you love him.
“You were beautiful,” He hummed, leaning into your hair. He hummed, squeezing you tighter. “I love you. So fucking much.”
You closed your eyes, taking in the moment as best as you could. There was no place on this planet you loved more than being in his embrace. You could be anywhere, at any time, anything could be happening, and all you’d want is him. That’s all you’d ever need, The lazy mornings in your LA home where you’d surprise him with breakfast in bed. The romantic nights in Seoul where he’d take you out to dinner at your favorite place. The bustling mornings when one of you had a meeting to get to. One of you having a mouth full of toast trying to run out the door, only to scramble back to give the other a kiss. Late nights in studios, falling asleep in random spots as you tried to come up with new lyrics and beats. Your favorites were the quiet nights, the two of you tangled in bed sheets as he stared at each other, talking about whatever came to mind as one of you played with the others hair, or traced shapes on bare skin. Gentle kisses passed back and forth. Life was perfect, and he was perfect.
“I love you, Ji,” You whispered, kissing him again. He hummed into it, smiling. You looked him over appreciatively, fiddling with his outfit. “I need to change, wanna pick my outfit out for me?” You asked, raising a brow. His eyes flicked with mischief as he looked back at the rack of clothes you had. He looked back at you, pulling you back into him again.
#kwon jiyong x reader#gdragon x reader#kwon jiyong#gdragon#bigbang x reader#gdragon fanfic#kwon jiyong fanfic#fanfic#x reader#kpop fluff
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I'm genuinely fascinated by the existence of "Javert, t'es amoureux", because its creator—Jean Vallée—wasn’t just any singer or actor; he was the very first Javert in the musical adaptation of Les Misérables. And out of everything he could have taken from playing the role, what stuck with him enough to turn into a song? The idea that Javert was in love. That’s incredible.
It completely shatters the notion that Valvert is just a modern, fandom-driven interpretation cooked up by chronically online shippers or queer theatre kids projecting onto the material. No—this reading of Javert, this underlying tension, has existed since the beginning. Before Tumblr, before AO3, before any of that discourse, the original musical Javert himself saw something there. And not just saw it—he felt it so deeply that he wrote and recorded a song about it.
"Valvert" isn’t just a modern fandom invention. The very people who have embodied these characters—actors, writers, and directors—have seen and acknowledged these dynamics. Whether it’s Jean Vallée writing "Javert, t’es amoureux", Andrew Davies (screenwriter of the BBC adaptation) stating that "One can even see a twisted kind of love in Javert’s obsession with Valjean," or countless performers playing these characters with that subtext in mind, the interpretation holds weight.
Never let anyone tell you that your queer reading isn’t valid. The idea that there’s only one “correct” way to read a story is a lie—a lie that has been used for centuries to erase, silence, and delegitimize voices like ours.
Queer readings don’t need to be “proven” to be valid. They don’t require a writer’s approval or an actor’s acknowledgment. They are valid because queer people exist, and when we see ourselves in a story, that means something. That matters. And no one can take that away.
And this isn’t just about Les Mis. It’s about the truth that queer readings of stories are valid, full stop. Literature and theatre have always contained queerness, whether hidden in subtext or woven directly into the narrative. And when actors, directors, and audiences pick up on those themes—when they lean into them, embrace them, and bring them to life—it’s because those layers were always there to be discovered.
So if someone tells you that your interpretation is "just a ship" or "not what the author intended," remind them that stories do not belong solely to their creators. They belong to the people who experience them, who see themselves in them, who bring new life to them. And if queer people have seen themselves in Les Misérables—and we have, over and over again—then that queerness is real, it is valid, and it is part of the story, no matter what anyone else says.
Yes, I want everything to be queer, because I am queer, and I love me.
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Obsessed With You by Cosmicandy
Theater gothic/Phantom of the opera
(For some horrific reason I couldn't think of a trope)
DPxDC Phantom in the Opera
9/2 sat
Went to Gotham City Opera to see Eugene Onegin with B & Dames. The performance sucked ass (as modern takes on classics usually do), but during Tatyana's aria, some tech guy dropped a rubber chicken from catwalks right on stage. I bet it was on purpose since the lead's voice sounded much similar to the sound that chicken made. Wish I could shake the dude's hand, that was truly the crescendo of the whole scene.
15/2 sun
Came by GCO on the way to WE. Had some time to spare, so decided to go in and find the rubber chicken guy to thank him for the laugh last week. Thought he might appreciate the positive feedback since he was defo yelled at for the stunt. Turns out everyone blames it on a 'ghost'. Using 'Phantom of the Opera' as a cover story is poor taste, in my opinion, but on the other hand, it worked, and who am I to judge.
17/2 mon
Got curious and pulled up the records of GCO employees. No one matches the guy I've seen on the catwalks.
18/2 tue
Blackmailed Damian into drawing the guy. No match through the face recognition program. Should have expected that, really; the one cute guy with a sense of humor I meet (or see, actually), and he doesn't exist.
20/2 thur
Can't stop thinking about the rubber chicken guy. Might have to go back to GCO and ask about the whole ghostly rumor. Last time, no one bat an eye at the 'ghost' excuse, now that I think about it. Has it happened before? Is it a go-to explanation for any prank no one wants to take credit for?
26/2 wed
Visited GCO at night. Seen the guy, but the cam footage came back corrupted when checked downstairs. So maybe the fact that his hair was floating and glowing in the dark was not a hallucination.
27/2 thur
Definitely not a hallucination! Good news: got a sample. Bad news: after analysis, the data also came back corrupted. Weird news: the hair keeps glowing even after it's been cut off.
2/3 sun
The guy's name is Danny. Ghost story confirmed. I'm having a crisis.
4/3 tue
I'm not sure if I want to know absolutely everything there is to know about him or I want to forget everything I've already learned. But then, I've already got so far. Might as well commit to the bit?
8/3 sat
Was invited to see La Traviata tomorrow. Can I still call that reconnaissance, or am I in date territory?
10/3 mon
...it was a date. On an entirely unrelated note, Teddy Hyde ruined all my attempts at coming prepared.
18/3 tue
Heard a new rumor among GCO staff members. They suspect the ghost in their opera is having a crush on Red Robin. Not sure where they've got that idea, but it sure took them some time to notice.
19/3 wed
Damian keeps staring at me at dinners. Maybe I should take that portrait of Danny that he did down from the wall over my bed.
22/3 sat
Going on a date today, and this time, it's definitely a date! Feels like I should be having a crisis over dating a ghost, but somehow, I'm only having a crisis over outfit choices.
61/0° gBs
hEy, yoU're keEEpinG a DIary¡ aboUt Me!¡ ThAt"s cuTe FUCK OFF DANNY THIS IS PRIVATE INFORMATION GET OUT heHeheEhe no~
~•~•~•~
The thing is, I loved the song. And I loved the aesthetic. And I had such a goddamn hard time figuring out how to fit them together; I went through at least three different setups before deciding fuck it imma write silly boys being silly and wish for the best.
Dare I say it turned out cute as fuck, even though I still missed the mark on theater gothic aesthetic for the most part. Anyway, have a few pictures for general vibes!






[Just so you know, if you enter 'sex with a ghost' into google, the first few results will be the lyrics to 'Sex with a Ghost' by Terry Hyde, which is why Tim's research has been rather fruitless]
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#tim drake#dead tired#brain dead#cork game#theater gothic#phantom in the opera
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second chance?
✮ PAIRING: noah sebastian x reader
✮ REQUEST: “Can I request a second chance romance one shot? Like in 2020 - 2021 the reader and Noah were dating and they break up for [insert reason] but they run into each other at the BMTH concert in 2024 or something and one thing leads to another suddenly they you know, hooked up and Noah doesn't want it to be a one night stand with her soooooo you can go from there.”
✮ A/N: sorry for the recent inactivity but now, i’m BACKKKK! continue sending in requests for me to write & hope you all like this fic ≧'◡'≦



everything seemed picture perfect between you two. the makeshift dates and the candle-lit dinners that would be hosted in his dining room with dinner that you both made, and just when you thought that the pair of you were full from dinner he was usually still hungry….but for something else (you). in a world of what seemed to be chaos, you found solace within each other.
until, the time came that heavy pandemic restrictions were slowly being lifted and Bad Omens was scheduled their first tour back to be openers for In This Moment and Ice Nine Kills. going from seeing noah almost every single day to barely hearing from him was a very intense switch that put a strain on your relationship since communication was such a huge trait for the two of you.
knowing this would probably only get worse as they’re gonna get busier and continue going on tour. even though you two loved each other to the ends of the earth, when he came back you both made the decision to break up but still remain friends to avoid any heartbreak or miscommunication.
this brings us back to present day, it’s been three years since you’ve broken up with noah. you both talk occasionally and send the usual happy holidays and birthday messages but haven’t actually seen each other face to face since the break up…..
….one day you hear your phone going off like CRAZY, you managed to find out that one of your girlfriends was able to get pit tickets for a Bring Me The Horizon concert happening in your city. prior to these messages from your friends, you had zero idea they were coming to your town and who would be performing with them, but decided why not go and have some fun with your girls!!!
the day that you and your friends have been so estatic about finally comes around, you’re all dressed to the nines, wearing your sexiest (but comfortable) attire that perfectly matches the mood for the concert. since the adrenaline is pumping throughout your friend groups veins, all of you decide to make it to the venue just early enough to secure the merch that you’ve had your eye on and your spots for barricade.
after waiting for a few hours, the doors of the venue open and everyone runs while holding each others hands to make it right in the center of barricade with a perfect view of the stage.
around an hour goes by, you still have no idea who the openers will be until the crew of the band lowers down a tapestry with a name that sounds very familiar to you….’Bad Omens’ and that’s when it clicks in your head that your ex boyfriend’s band is an opener for the tour. obviously you don’t wanna seem like an obsessive person to him but you’re literally sitting front row, right in the center, so there’s definitely no way that you could hide.
as soon as you start trying to think up of a plan to make sure noah doesn’t see you in the crowd, the lights abruptly go dark and small vibrations rumble through the ground of the arena with jolly, one of noah’s best friends and roommates comes out right in front of you playing the riffs of a song that you learn is called artificial suicide from their newest album (one that you also learn you were the muse for a couple of songs on the record), ‘The Death Of Peace Of Mind.’
even though you didn’t really know the words to their newer work since you’ve only heard the demos and some of the songs from their first two records, you can help but feel proud for how far they’ve come knowing that noah had expressed some doubts for the record with you during your time together.
while watching the show, you constantly had a feeling that you were being watched…but when you looked up at the stage, you found the front-man of the band gazing off in your direction.
nothing really happened between you two when they were performed besides noah staring at you while singing a couple of songs which you presumed were about you. the rest of the show goes on, you and your friends have the time of your lives screaming your favorite songs on the top of your lungs. when the show was over just as you were about to leave ash, noah’s trainer and bad omens new security guard caught your attention saying they’d like to invite you backstage so you decide why, not! after all you and noah are still friends even though he was the only love you regret breaking things off with.
ash guides you in the direction of the Omens’ green room when you notice someone standing in the distance. as you both get closer to the room, you soon realize that this person is actually just noah who asked ash to bring you backstage so the two of you could “catch up.”
which led to noah bringing you back to his hotel room and ending up laying beneath you, fiercely rolling your hips against his with some help provided by him thrusting into you. moans and grunts spill from you guys’ lips, getting closer and closer to your release….right when you grind on his dick hitting your sweet spot perfectly, feeling pure ecstasy wash over the both of you as he holds your hips down so he can fill up your pussy with his cum.
just as noah wakes up in the morning, he remembers everything that happened last night. looking down at you still asleep with the sun peaking through the blinds and shining on your gorgeous face is when the realization hits him…he can’t let you go again.
meanwhile, you just woke up, not really remembering where you were or what happened but when you looked down to see you wearing one of noah’s shirts and then back up to see his smiling handsome face. which brings back all the memories from a few years ago, it felt like nothing changed…”we should talk” breaks you away from your thoughts (aka, regrets for even breaking up with him)…
the conversation ended with you two walking out into the lobby of the hotel they were staying in, holding noah’s hand with the biggest, lovesick smiles on your faces to hear someone yell “FINALLY!” in the distance. (it was a combination of jolly and matt who were celebrating seeing you two together)
#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fluff#noah sebastian smut#noah sebastian fic#bad omens x reader
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November 15th, 2024 marks the 40th anniversary of the inaugural performance of the Tokyo Grand Guignol’s Mercuro at the Art Theater Shinjuku. While it isn’t fully complete yet, now feels as good a time as ever to share here the current progress of my new translation of Mercuro, an updated “text adaption” as I put it that crosses the full script from June Novel with details that were given through photos, video footage and recollections from audience members. The reason for this is to account for the fact that Mercuro wasn’t a literary play, but an Artaudian experience Ameya conceived in efforts to override what he saw as being a wordy pretention in contemporary theater, his direction even being described before as a sot of "destruction" of Tagane’s writing. Judging Mercuro by just K. Tagane’s text would arguably be missing half the picture, so I’ve done my best to account what I imagine from the evidence that exists what Ameya’s half would've been like to maintain a decent balance. The first act of the play is fully available in two parts for free on my Substack, the second act is still in progress and will be steadily serialized as I finish enough progress on it: - MERCURO (Text Adaption) : ACT 1 : SCENE 1 - MERCURO (Text Adaption) : ACT 1 : SCENES 2 & 3 The process has been a difficult and laborious one in consideration of not just the scarcity of original materials, but the lack of publicly available media as well. Much of Ameya’s direction is not just in the actors, but the handling of visuals and sound design as well, calling back to his influences from Artaud’s more viscerally ritualistic view of theater as a practice. While a handful of songs are known to have been featured, there are still many gaps in between of not just how the songs were sequenced, but how Ameya would’ve edited them as well. A full video recording of Mercuro’s original run (not to be confused with the abridged 1985 Mercuroid TV performance) exists, but it is only in the hands of private collectors. Despite the hurdles throughout my research, through a combination of artistic dedication with what could best be described as obsessive stubbornness against the odds I was able to track down all the materials I could. Special thanks goes to Yu Hirayama of @suikazuraofficial (known for their music compilations, the subculture magazine FEECO and the Steven Stapleton biography Nurse With Wound評伝) for personally providing a copy of the Mercuro volume of June magazine and the Roadsiders article The Time That The Flyers Came To Town. I recommend anyone with an interest in subculture to look into his publications.
#tokyo grand guignol#suehiro maruo#litchi hikari club#lychee light club#angura#underground#japanese theater#norimizu ameya
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I’m going to be working on chapter 3 of Cold Brewed Love. I was really sick last week and then my toddler got really sick and we’ve just been a mess. But hopefully that should be out sometime soon.
…Last night I had a horrible panic attack. It came out of nowhere and was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. I thought I was getting passed this but I guess not. So to get my mind off of it I wrote this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but just never wrote out. It’s just fluffy and funny and cute. I hope everyone likes it and maybe it’ll help someone else feel better.
I don’t have a title so if anyone has any good ideas let me know!!
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Yoongi x Female Reader
Warnings: Swearing, kind of suggestive, anxiety, depression, jealous Yoongi, little angst, maybe bad judgements against foreigners but not in a hateful way (when writing this I did it from the view of an American who speaks English because that’s me so I apologize to others who read that may not fit that role), also fluffy dorky Yoongi
Word count: 3,702

(I included one of my all time favorite Yoongi photos because why not)
When Yoongi first got his military assignment he was less than thrilled about it to say the least. How do you go from writing hit songs while traveling the world performing for thousands of people and collecting records and awards like no one else to sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a computer for eight hours a day? But he understands the why behind the reasons he has to do this, along with knowing that it is his duty so he is committed to completing his service to the best of his ability. He gets up early in the morning pouring himself a cup of coffee before he puts on his uniform and makes the short drive to the office location.
Whether it was pure luck or a carefully calculated choice by someone in charge he was thankful to be working in a quiet building just outside of Seoul. His department was on the top floor. His desk in a back corner, by himself, somewhat hidden away from view. He could show up, do his job, and leave like nothing happened. He was content with keeping to himself, minding his own business, and not going out of his way to make friends. Of course he was polite and friendly if approached, but he was never the approacher.
And then he met you…
When his senior manager told him that he would be getting a desk partner he nodded and politely accepted the change but internally he was irritated. That irritation only grew when he found out that his new partner was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean. His mind immediately conjured up this idea that you were probably some kpop obsessed fan who moved here on a whim. The only saving grace he thought would be that due to the lack of mutual language you both would probably not be speaking much.
He got to work a few minutes earlier than usual on the day you were arriving to work with him. For some reason he wanted to beat you there feeling like he had to lay claim to his portion of the rather large desk. Your computer was already set up next to him. He sighed as he unpacked his bag and began logging in for the day.
Then you arrived. Your work uniform similar to his. You smiled and introduced yourself and then sat down and got right to work. You didn’t freak out and tell him how big of a fan you were. You didn’t even make small talk. You put in your ear buds and turned on some music and got right to work. You brought in a heavenly smell with you of vanilla and sugar. He’s sure it would be called something like Fluffy Cloud Sweet Sugar Oasis and Grandma’s Cookies or something like that if they sold it at Bath & Body works. And he was ready to buy every bottle.
When work was over for the day you told him to have a good night and packed your stuff and left. Yoongi realized this new seating arrangement wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
The days went by much similar to that first day. You introduced him to your best friend Joon-Sung who worked in a different department on the second floor. The first time he met him Yoongi felt what he told himself was just some indigestion from his lunch because there was no way he was jealous of the handsome man that you so freely talked to and joked with until he heard you mention something about Joon-Sung and his new boyfriend and the indigestion somehow magically went away.
Then Yoongi noticed that he found himself feeling a little more excited each day for you to walk through that door. He also started changing his routine bit by bit. He styled his hair a little more, at least the little bit of hair that was slowly growing back after having to get it shaved. He started wearing cologne again, even buying the one he heard you mention you liked after someone walked by wearing it. His nights were spent brushing up on his English so he could better converse with you and in the mornings he started bringing you cups of hot chocolate or herbal tea after he heard you tell Joon-Sung that you were trying to lower your caffeine intake because your anxiety was getting worse.
Then his world came spiraling out of control at the realization that he might like you…like a lot. The last thing he needs right now is any kind of relationship especially with a foreigner. Like sure you were really pretty and very nice and you both communicated well even with the language barrier and you were taking Korean lessons so you were getting better. You had acclimated to living in Korea just fine. Joon-Sung often joked that you acted more Korean than most Koreans and that you were a Korean Ajumma in a young woman’s body.
Your best friend other than Joon-Sung was your 80 year old neighbor Mr.Park and his cat Mittens which lead Yoongi into remembering a story about how you and Mr. Park spent all day hand making cat toys to take to the animal shelter which made Yoongi’s heart swell with affection before he quickly shook that feeling away.
The more he thought about it the more Yoongi realized how much of your life he had grown to know and how much he looked forward to seeing you and talking to you.
And how much he talked about you outside of work.
“I don’t know man, sounds like you like her.”, Hoseok said while having a couple drinks at Yoongi’s on his day off from the military.
“I do not. She’s just nice. We have to work together. That’s all.”
“Mmmhmm sure, that’s why you haven’t stopped talking about her all night. Jimin mentioned that you even told him about her over the phone. And your ears are doing that thing.”
“What thing?,” Yoongi questioned already knowing the answer.
“You know…that thing where you ears get all red when you’re lying or embarrassed. And by how red they are I’m thinking it’s a little of both.”, Hoseok chuckled before taking a sip of beer.
Yoongi couldn’t like you. He’s only known you for a few months. He doesn’t fall that easily for anyone. He knew his last partner for three years before asking them out. He hasn’t even hung out with you outside of work yet. He had your number, but that was because you asked him for it to send over a work file you were going to complete at home. He’s never texted you outside of a thanks once he’s received it. Sure he’s opened up a blank message and attempted to text you something almost every night. That’s normal though. Right? He’s just awkward and you’re just a friend.
Then he saw you walk in for the day. You were carrying two bags of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. One bag had Joon-Sungs name on it and the other had Yoongi’s. You made him cookies. He thought his heart was going to explode.
When Joon-Sung walked in to collect his package from you he started complaining about how he was going on a date with some guy who loved basketball so now he was trying to cram full of info to try and impress him. He showed you his phone,
“Who is this?”
“That’s Lebron James.”
“Is he any good?”
“Well he’s the highest scoring player in NBA history, he’s top 10 in steals and assists, and has four championships so yeah you could say he’s pretty good.”
“Okay and what team does he play for?”
You sighed, “He was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2003 then he went to the Miami Heat for a while and then back to Cleveland and now he’s with the Lakers.”
Yoongi listened as you rattled off basketball facts like nothing with his eyes wide.
Fuck I think I love her, he thought to himself.
Yoongi tried his best to push any thoughts he was having about you far out of his mind. But you were all he thought about. How good you smelled next to him. How sweet your voice sounded saying his name. How you would feel underneath him with his body pressed against yours…
Realizing he was about to really embarrass himself at work he quickly started thinking about that time he accidentally saw his mom in her underwear instead hoping to change the direction of his thoughts but because his brain seemed to hate him his thoughts wandered back to what you would look like in this black lace number he saw was being released by some high end lingerie brand. Maybe he could buy it for you as a gift. Or would that be weird? Quickly he excused himself needing to get up and get a distraction.
When he returned to his desk Joon-Sung was gone and you were typing away at your computer.
“Hey can I ask you a question?”, you said, “I hope I’m not going to make things weird between us.”
Yoongi froze. Did you notice? Could you read minds? Oh my God Yoongi that’s so stupid, people can’t read minds. He was so in his thoughts he forgot that you had asked him a question until he saw you staring back at him.
“Of course, go ahead.”, he managed to squeak out.
“So Joon—Sung is having a party this weekend. He wanted me to ask you to come. It’s nothing big. He does them every few weeks. He’s just social like that.”
Yoongi’s not sure if he’s relieved that you’re not some mind reader or if he’s hurt that you’re only asking him to come because someone else told you to and not that you actually want him there.
But he agrees to go regardless because he wants to spend time with you.
Yoongi doesn’t like to judge people but he’s a little shocked to find out that Joon-Sung lives in one of the fanciest most elite apartment complexes in Seoul. Something about having family money so he works mostly to give himself something to do. Yoongi admits he’s a little impressed and also a little jealous.
He came prepared with topics to talk about. He researched the bands he always sees you listening to even though most really weren’t his style. He looked into your home city so he could ask you questions. And if all else fails he can rely on basketball as a speaking point. He can’t remember the last time he put this much effort into getting to know someone.
He takes off his shoes and walks into the main living area and immediately starts scanning the room for you. He spots you right away.
He takes a moment to look you over. The dress you’re wearing is much shorter and tighter than your normal work outfit. It accentuates every one of your curves perfectly. He sees what he thinks is a thigh tattoo poking out the bottom. He wants to see more of it. You look so good and he can feel his temperature rising. Fuck Yoongi get it together. You’ve been acting like some deprived horny teenager he thinks while making a mental note to call his doctor. Maybe his hormones are out of whack or something. This isn’t normal for him to feel like this around someone.
He watches as you’re happily talking to some guy. Some guy who’s like ten feet tall and made of pure muscle and looks like he was ripped out of beauty magazine. Maybe that is your type. Maybe he should introduce you to Jungkook. At least then he’d still get to see you after his service is up because you’d clearly not be interested in someone like him.
You’re laughing at something the guy said while placing your hand on his bicep.
Well this is something Yoongi never thought about. He was so consumed in his feelings for you that he never stopped to think about whether or not you liked him too or if you were even available. What if you’re already seeing someone? What if you’re happily married with two kids? He never asked you about your relationships since it felt too personal at the time. He feels like the room is spinning as he is trying to find another route when he hears you calling his name.
You walk over and wrap your arms around him in a hug, “I’m so glad you decided to come.”
He smiles feeling some relief as you lead him to the kitchen to get a drink and something to eat.
You’re both eating a piece of pizza when you ask him a question.
“This is random but do you have a nickname? I mean besides Suga or Agust D of course.”
He shakes his head.
“You look like a Yoongles. Has anyone ever called you that?”
“A few fans have online but that’s it.”, he chuckles.
“Well I think it suits you. Or maybe Yoongily Boongily Bear.”
“Okay” he snorts trying to fake indifference but in that moment he realized that he’d let you call him Captain Dumbass if you wanted to just so he could see your smile and hear your giggle again.
Yoongi had gone to talk to one of your other co workers for a while to give you a break from him since you’d been attached at the hip. He was coming back from the bathroom when he noticed you were nowhere to be found.
Did you leave already? And without even saying goodbye. That hurt a little more than he wanted it to. He didn’t get the chance to ask you about your hometown. Now he’s stuck with all these useless facts about some city he’s never even been to.
Just as he was about to give up and head home someone moved the large curtain hanging against the window and he recognized your figure leaning against the balcony outside. Slowly he made his way there.
“I thought you left.”, he said when you turned to look at him after hearing the door open.
“No it was just getting to people-ish in there, I needed a break.”
Yoongi felt bad for intruding on your space.
“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go back inside.”
He felt electricity shoot through his body after you grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the railing, “No stay. I like spending time with you.”
He felt his heart skip.
The two of you stood in silence for a few moments while staring down at the vast city below.
“I like to look out at the city when I’m overwhelmed or when my anxiety gets too much.”, you suddenly spoke, “I like watching the lights, seeing all the people move around. Some going to work, some coming home. Couples going on dates. Some people are down there having the best day of their life while others are having the worst. It’s comforting in a weird way.”, you chuckled, “To know you’re not alone out here in the world.”
Yoongi looked you over quietly. He didn’t know you struggled so much with anxiety and feelings like that. He knew you had anxiety which is why he never got you anything with a lot of caffeine, but he thought it would just make your heart race or something. He didn’t know you suffered so harshly from it. You always seemed to calm and put together. He felt a strong urge to just wrap you in a big fluffy blanket and give you a kitten to hold as he cuddled you close while telling you it’ll all be okay.
“It’s funny actually. I never really listened to your music before I met you.”
Yoongi gasped dramatically acting extremely hurt.
You giggled, “I know. I mean I knew of you guys and such but it wasn’t really my thing. But when I found out I was going to be working with you I wanted to know about your music and having something to talk about with you. Honestly I went into it not having high expectations.”
Now Yoongi was genuinely a little hurt but he knew everyone was entitled to their own opinions and feelings and that’s why music was so great.
You continued, “I was taken back by how real your music was. How full of emotion and the raw feelings you conveyed. Your song The Last, man I cried after hearing that. To see someone struggle as much as you did with mental health issues and still come out on top even though you had to fight for it. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I’ll be okay too.”
Yoongi thought about every funny scenario he could. That time Jin shoved an entire donut in his mouth and then accidentally coughed it all over Namjoon’s face or that time his brother slipped on some ice and conveniently landed right in a giant puddle of dirty water like he was in a cartoon. Anything to stop himself from crying in front of you.
“Then I listened to Snooze. And that song has become like my anthem. Any time I feel the walls closing in on me or I think I can’t do it any more I play that one and I can feel the gray clouds being pulled away and the sun shining down.”, you chuckled, “You have got to introduce me to WooSung by the way.”
Yoongi laughed with you but deep down he knew he was NEVER introducing you to WooSung unless it was at your wedding after you’d already exchanged vows and kissed and you were officially Mrs. Min Yoongi. Then MAYBE he might let you meet him…from across the room…over video chat.
“I’m glad my music could help you so much. Any time I hear something like that it gives me the motivation to keep going too.”, he said not really sure how to comfort you in that moment.
“How did you do it?”
He look at you confused.
“How did you heal yourself?”
Yoongi found himself chuckling. Not because he thought it was a funny question or anything but he never thought he’d be answering questions like that.
“I mean I don’t know if I’ll every be fully healed. At first I used alcohol. I’d drink until I wasn’t coherent enough to feel. Then I switched to working myself until I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to worry. But now I go to therapy and take medicine when it gets really bad. I use music as an escape without overworking myself. I also surround myself with people who I know are good for me. I think that’s really important.”
You nodded in understanding.
“Thank you Yoongi. For helping not only myself but also yourself and the millions of fans around the world.”
Fuck he wanted to kiss you so bad and and hold you and make sure you never felt another ounce of sadness ever again.
This conversation kind of killed the mood admittedly though. You just opened up to him about something that must’ve been difficult and he can’t just be like oh hey by the way I want to date you and hopefully do unspeakable things to you one day so do you want to go out with me? That would be really insensitive.
Instead he was going to simply invite you to hang out as friends, offer to be your support and see where it goes from there.
“Hey Y/N…”
Just then the door swung open and a very drunk Joon-Sung came stumbling out.
“There you are. I looked everywhere for you guys. I figured you were blowing him in the bathroom already.”
Yoongi choked on his spit and felt his entire body heat up at that statement.
“Did you tell him how you love him and you think he has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile and the cutest little butt?”
“Go.to.bed.Joon-Sung.”, you hissed.
“Alright alright, but if you two are gonna fuck use the spare bedroom. I paid too much for my couch for there to be naked ass cheeks on it.”, he slurred before stumbling back inside.
You turned back around and continued to stare out at the city below. Yoongi thought you were handling this well. If it was him he would’ve already jumped over the railing from embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”, you whispered when he came up next to you, “I didn’t want you to find out like that. It’s gonna be weird between us now. Monday morning I’ll ask for them to reassign me to a new department.”
“Y/N”
“Hell I’ll even move out of the city.”
“Y/N”
“I’ve heard Busan is nice.”
“Y/N”
“Just please don’t write a song about me. I don’t think I can recover knowing my most embarrassing moment is being retold on stage as seven guys do some extreme choreography while wearing coordinating outfits.”
Y/N!”
Finally he got your attention. He couldn’t help but smile at how flushed you were.
“Can I kiss you?”
“What?”
He used the new boost in confidence from knowing that you liked him too to take a step closer to you. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath bouncing back off of your skin.
“Y/N…Can…I…Kiss…You?”
You didn’t say anything but nodded which was all he needed to lean in placing his lips on yours. It’s cheesy but he felt like fireworks were going off. His senses were overloaded with you. That familiar sweet vanilla perfume you always wear. The softness of your lips. The taste of the pizza and hard cider you had earlier. It made him feel like he could fly.
“So you think I have a cute butt huh?”, he smirked against your lips.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to remember?”
He stepped back putting his hands up in defense, “Hey listen, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve thought about your butt over the last couple months.”
“Yeah well maybe you can show me instead then huh.”, you smiled pulling him in for another kiss.
“I would be happy to”
#bts#yoongi x reader#yoongi fanfic#min yoongi#bts fanfic#bts x reader#yoongi x y/n#yoongi fluff#bts fluff#yoongi angst#bts yoongi#suga
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was thinking about my silly YGO Band AU a while back but its spread across like 3 posts and secret tags so I am putting it all in one place for posterity and my own sanity
90's grunge group "PHARAOH" consists of Atem, Anzu, Honda, and Jou. Yugi is the secret song writer behind all their hits, but is too insecure to take public credit, so he has Atem act as charismatic frontman and pretend to have written all their songs. Does this make Atem increasingly uncomfortable? Yes. Will he say anything? lol
Pegasus of I2 records is their eccentric boss, who is happy to keep Yugi and Atem's secret as long as the money keeps rolling in.
Seto Kaiba, a solo act who runs his own label, cannot be managed but in practice delegates those duties to Mokuba and Isono. Swears revenge against Atem for knocking him off the charts, without realizing that Yugi is his real rival.
Ryou Bakura is a very polite boy who writes demonic-sounding deathcore and uses a gallon of fake blood every performance. Has a legion of dangerously rabid teen girl fans. Managed by his widely disliked twin brother, who spends as much time protecting his little bro from their own stalker-y fanbase as he does price-gouging merch and used tissues to sell to those same obsessed teenage girls.
Synthy art pop quartet The Harpies rumored to be on the verge of throwing out their frontwoman, after she made several controversial statements regarding what she views as blatant award snubs.
Over-the-top symphonic goth darkwave act "Marik Iblis and the Orchestra of Ghouls" have trashed yet another hotel room; states beleaguered manager Rishid, "even offstage, sometimes he gets lost in the character."
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Jake Webber x rockstar reader
OMG I LOVE THIS !
also, remember that requests are open !!
jake webber x fem!rockstar!reader
You guys totally meet at a gig your band does at some random venue in LA.
He has been listening to your music for a while but had never gone to a show
When he finds out your band is performing at like sunset strip he is getting tickets right away
He's dragging Johnnie with him too
After some songs, he ends up front row right infront of you
Literally a wattpad story, you would find yourself looking right to him throughout the entire show.
You wink at him from stage, and he literally thinks he is hallucinating.
He leaves the venue to smoke a cigarette of course while Johnnie is probably fixing his hair in the bathroom
When you come out of the venue you see him leaning against a wall and you knew that was your chance
You go up to him and start chatting with him while your bandmates wait up for you
You guys end up exchanging numbers because besides from super cute he was hilarious too
You probably text him first because after two days he doesn't text you
He didn't text you because he was literally afraid of fucking it up
But when he gets your message, he is relieved
If you hadn't felt a connection before, you definitely felt it now.
You hang out like three or four times a week usually just listening to music and talking about life
Never getting bored of each other's presence
When you finally get together, both of your fans can't believe he pulled you
For real surprised
But the moment you both record a vlog eating food in his car everyone is obsessed with your dynamic
Everyone thinks you are so cute
Writing love songs all the time about him and being super obvious about it
Getting him and his friends free tickets to your gigs
Going to classic rockstar parties but never leaving each others side
He WORSHIPS you, like every little thing you ask him to get you he is doing it right away
You BETTER expect him at every single gig your band does, he will be there, backstage, front row doesn't matter
Surprises you on your anniversary when you can't make it because you are touring around the country
All in all a perfect relationship, he is your number one fan boy.
#☆; livs writes !#jake webber x reader#jake webber#jake webber x you#jake webber imagine#jake webber fanfiction#jake webber fluff
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Silver Springs
Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader
✧.* requested by @navia3000 — hi hi hi!!! i’m OBSESSED with your writing and i was wondering if you could write an eddie x reader story for me! i thought of this in the shower, but basically, reader is the bassist of the band and has been in love with eddie for a long time, but eddie is in love with camila. everyone knows she’s madly in love with him, but he doesn’t seem to realize it. after cami and eddie get together that one night at the bar, and then when they’re talking at the party, reader overhears the whole thing and is really upset because camila and her are very close and she knew that reader loved eddie. camila walks back to the party but sees reader standing there and realizes she heard everything. reader gets mad and stops talking to both eddie and cami, just ignoring them every time they’re around. it gets to the point where cami gets fed up and says some mean stuff to reader about eddie not wanting her in front of everyone else. reader packs her stuff and leaves the band without saying anything, basically just pulls a houdini. some time later, the band is at a festival and the band performing before them is the reader’s and she’s the lead singer, and they realize it’s her and are like omg. reader sings her hit song silver springs (og by fleetwood mac but im pretending its reader’s song) and it’s obvi about eddie. she sings it while staring at him just like stevie does lindsey. and you can end it however you want. i know this is really long and im sorry 😭 i just love your writing and wanna see how you do this. thank youuuu :))
✧.* summary — a fic based on Silver Springs by fleetwood mac
✧.* warnings — Camila being a jerk :(((
✧.* word count — 3.2k
✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist
✧.* mandy's notes — This was soooo fun to write, I'm just obsessed with this song
Love is fucked up, and you were living the worst of it since you fell in love with Eddie Roundtree. Of course, it's not about every type of love, but you knew very well that there is nothing as painful as unreciprocated love. It was like being slowly consumed by a feeling that will always be there, and there's nothing you can do to make it stop.
When you guys decided to move to follow the band's dream, it wasn't an easy decision, you were scared to death that you were making the wrong decision but there was comfort in doing it with those you were close to. Now that you were having the chance to create a new album, you felt like it was time for you to grow up in a big way.
The work had been difficult, you spent a lot of time in the studio recording again and again, and only being done when it was perfect. And despite the regrets, you knew that everything was heading towards what you were going to and were living. There is something that was addictive about work, it made you forget about the disaster surrounding your love life, you felt pathetic for futilely insisting on a feeling that had no direction or departure.
You felt yourself falling in love with Eddie when you guys moved to the new town, despite your time performing gigs and also with other gigs out there, you still spent a lot of time together, something that was enough to make you fall in love with him. He was always very kind and understanding with you, even more so when you missed home a lot, slowly as you became closer to each other you couldn't help your feelings anymore… something you just hated.
Everyone knew that he was deeply in love with Camila, including yourself. You knew that when your heart started beating faster everytime he passed by or talked to you, there were several times you tried to hold every feeling back, knowing that it would only lead to heartbreak.
As everyone knew about Eddie's feelings towards Camila, slowly everyone noticed your feelings towards him. Of course there were jokes and teasing (even more coming from Rojas), but it slowly became an unspoken topic that everyone knew but no one said a thing. And you honestly appreciate it!
You had no idea if Eddie knew about it, and you hoped he never did. Because even if you didn't have any hope, or at least tried not to, you wanted to deprive yourself of the look full of pity coming from someone who doesn't feel the same way. Looking to escape all your thoughts, you spent many more hours than necessary in the studio working late, and today was no different.
“God! You're still here?” Daisy says as she opens the studio door, a cigarette hovering on her lips.
“I have a lot to do.” You say shrugging, while giving her a small smile.
“No she doesn't.” You are startled a little when you hear Karen's voice behind you, turning slightly to see her blonde hair.
“Is this some kind of intervention?” Your laugh came out nervously, they look at each other.
“Well, maybe?” Jones gets closer to you, you can smell the cigarettes on her clothes.
“You're working like a dog, so we thought you could come with us to a party?” Karen suggests, her eyes showing her eager for you to agree.
“I don't know guys…” You scribble some things in your notebook, nothing specific other than lines and circles.
“Come on!” Karen holds one of your hands to help you up. “Just try it, I promise that if you don't like it Daisy will take you home.”
“Oh, I will?” Daisy looks at her, you can't help but laugh when you see Karen giving her a threatening look. “Yeah, of course I will.”
You see no escape, so you soon find yourself among a considerable number of people wearing your favorite dress. Karen had been called by a boy to talk better, you hadn't noticed who it was but you knew where she was in case it took too long and you got worried, Daisy was lying on a sun chair around the pool talking to a group of people you had no idea who they were, and you, as expected, were standing there waiting for something interesting to happen.
With your half-full glass in hand, you approach the chairs looking to sit somewhere, your steps stop when you see a familiar figure you blink a few times to make sure you were right, and after a few blinks you confirm that Eddie was there too. Having been alone for a long time and bearing in mind that you wouldn't have company anytime soon, you decide to go to him.
As you make your way into the crowd you see him getting up, you frown trying to get a look at where the hell he was heading to. After a few attempts, bumping into some people and a couple of "I'm sorry" to those who had been pushed past you, you are amazed at what you find. It was unusual to see Camila leaving the house for a party, especially alone, you were immediately surprised, looking around to see if other band members were around.
Well, it wasn't the worst case scenario! At least now you have more company to spend the night with, you continue but immediately notice a different air between them. Your body weakens and your heart races, he gets closer to her and she doesn't step back, you can't help but wonder what the fuck was going on so you decide to sit near them and try your best to hear them.
“Wow, you chose me over sure thing like that?” You barely hear Camila's voice among the others.
“I'll choose you over everyone.” Your heart hurts on your chest, you felt sad.
The silence between them is all you hear even with the noise around you, you turn to see what was happening and bitterly regret what your eyes found. Camila holds Roundtree's face gently, her shaking hands indicated apparent nervousness and her fingers didn't show firmness, she was kissing him.
You couldn't believe what your eyes were showing you, your friend forever was kissing the man you were in love with. It was more than a pain, it was a deep betrayal. You didn't give a shit about the fact that Billy was also being betrayed, he had already done worse to her, but you... She knew your feelings, nothing could justify what your eyes witnessed.
You quickly grab your bag, not bothering to tell Daisy or Karen that you were leaving, you just wanted to disappear.
Knowing that you would eventually have to see Eddie if you returned home, you decide to go to any 24-hour establishment, any place where you could get your head around work in peace. Maybe it was raw feelings, or just lack of attention, but you didn't care if disappearing caused a fuss among your friends. If it were up to you, a complete song would be created that night out of all your frustrations.
…
When Eddie opened the doors to the house he was surprised to see the lights on, Karen was on the sofa with her hands in her hair and her legs kept moving up and down. He frowns and gives a questioning look to Warren who was eating a banana in the corner of the room, he just takes a deep breath and doesn't give another answer.
“I swear to God, if she's not having sex right she better have a good excuse to just disappear!” Karen utters, Graham puts one of his hands on her back as comfort.
“What the fuck is going on?” Roundtre asks, a little bit worried.
“Y/N, Daisy and I went to a party and she just vanished.” Sirko's blonde locks got messy as she frantically ran her hands through it.
“What?” Eddie widens his eyes, worried. "You left her alone?"
“Are you going to keep throwing things in my face? I know I fucked up, alright.”
“I think we all should take a rest, it's late.” Graham says.
“Yeah, and besides… I'm pretty sure she'll be back tomorrow.” Rojas tries to comfort everyone, and after a while he manages to get them all a little bit more calm.
…
You were a mess, your hair was a mess, your papers spread across the table were a mess and you didn't even want to look at your face. But you had a song made, lyrics complete, rhythm organized and the guitar and bass part was done, and even with a lot of anguish, you were proud of your work.
You quickly stuff the papers into your backpack, and order a taxi to the house you shared with the band, knowing that you would be scolded for disappearing last night. But honestly, all you wanted was to forget what happened.
“I'm gonna kill you.” You hear Karen's voice and Immediately let out a long breath, she stops when she sees your face. “Bloody hell you look horrible.”
“Thank you very much” You roll your eyes, trying to pass by her, he holds your arm.
“What happened?” You can see she was worried, but you felt pathetic just thinking about saying any of this out loud.
“I can't say it.”
“Bullshit!” She crosses her arms and stops in front of you, preventing you from going forward.
“Fine, I don't want to say it.”
“Where were you yesterday?” She tries once more.
“Writing.”
“You left in the middle of the party to write?” Karen arches her eyebrows, in disbelief. “Without any extra reasons?”
You see Camila approaching, and it takes a lot for you not to cry when you see the person you trusted who had broken your heart so easily. You avoid her eyes, wiping away the tears that escaped.
“Look, I don't want to cause any fuss.” Your voice was choked, your gaze fixed on your foot.
“Karen called me worried yesterday, what happened? Where were you?" Camila comes with her calm voice, you feel a disappointment growing in your core.
“I left, alright?” You say louder than you expected, closing your eyes to take a deep breath. “And I'm leaving.”
“Who's leaving?” Warren's voice comes behind you, he joins everyone. “Hey Y/N, you good?”
“Not really, no.” You give him a small smile, he for sure would be one of the things that made this harder. “I'm quitting the band.”
“What?” They all say together, you swallow hard.
“Why?” Karen was shocked, in disbelief.
“I love you guys so much.” You say between tears, taking a while to pull yourself together. “But I only get hurt lately, and I need time to heal.”
“Who's hurting you?” Warren says in defence. “I'll kick their ass!”
You let out a laugh, “I don't want to cause a mess between you guys, I'm just going to pack my things and go.”
“I don't get it.” Karen says, so lost.
“Just be honest with us.” Camila asks.
“Look, it's fine.” You shrug, holding your bag close to you. “Just like I said, I don't want scandal.”
“You're being ridiculous.” Sirko let's out, frustrated.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Camila asks, nodding towards the balcony, you go with her. “What's happening to you?"
“I saw what you did yesterday." Your voice became more choked, you tried hard not to cry. “How could you?”
“What are you talking about?” You can see that she is taken by surprise.
“I saw you kissing Eddie yesterday.” Your vision is blurry with tears. “Why?”
“Look, let's not over react this…” Her voice is lower now, as if trying her best to avoid any attention.
“How on earth am I overreacting?” Slowly you got mad, trying to hold back all your emotions. “All this years I told you how I felt about him, how I bad I felt and yet you… you still did it.”
“Y/N, that's no reason to leave the band.” She avoids the subject. “They need a bass player, you can't just leave when they're recording an album…”
“No fucking reason?” You were shocked, your heart racing. “You don't even care about me, you're worried about the band.”
“Stop being like that.” She rolls her eyes. “It's been years of this, he doesn't like you. I know I did wrong but not with you, with my husband…”
“You think that what you did with me was not a betrayal?”
“I honestly don't think so.” She laughs, and that sents you. “He doesn't feel a thing about you, maybe it's time for you to get over it.”
You cry, your chest hurts. “I'm leaving.”
You turn to leave, knowing that your conversation has been heard by the others when you are met with pitying eyes.
…
You said you would and you did, you left there and only kept in touch with Karen after a few months of leaving. Little by little you got good opportunities, and over time you joined a band that was having great success.
Your song 'Silver Springs' had been written on one of the most troubled nights of your life and had now become your ticket to glorious days like this one. Festivals were your favorite days, you just loved to feel the audience's energy and sing along with them.
But besides loving all of this, today was being chaotic… You knew you went on stage in a few minutes and your guitar player was extremely drunk, you were furious and extremely nervous.
“Oh my God!” The British accent said each word slowly, you turned to see your ex bandmate with a wide smile heading towards you. “You look amazing! It's been so long.”
You go to her hugging her for a while, after some usual questions like "how have you been?" "How are the others?" "Any news?" She looks into your eyes with her eyebrows showing concern.
“Is everything alright?” She asks.
“Not actually, our guitar player fucked up.” Your voice was filled with nerves. “And we're up soon, I don't know what to do! He is the only one who can actually sing and—
“I could help.” You jump when you hear Eddie's voice behind you, you're body reacting weirdly at the sight of him after so long.
“Hearing our conversations?” You try to hide your small smile. “I see you didn't change, uh.”
“Not a bit.” He gives you a smile and you remember why you fell for him in the first place. “So, what do you say?”
“Do you really know the song?” You wanted to hide the way your body automatically wanted to go to him.
“You kidding me?” He jokes, adjusting his collar. “Everyone knows this song, it's amazing.”
“I'd love your help Eddie, thank you!” Somehow you feel peace between you two.
…
You feel the lights on your skin as you get yourself ready, amidst the expectant hush of the gathered crowd, the first haunting notes of "Silver Springs" begin to weave through the air. You get to the center of the stage, paying attention to the audience as you let the notes lead you, your presence commanding and vulnerable all at once. Opposite you, Eddie Roundtree appears—a silent sentinel, yet a potent source of the tension that fills the space between you.
The audience goes crazy, everyone knew the rumors about your song and what has inspired you. There was a huge controversy about the release of this song right after you left Daisy Jones and The Six, so when they all see Eddie Roundtree by your side to play it was for sure a fact to cheer for.
As your voice rises, imbued with a raw, piercing emotion, the air seems to thicken. Each word you sing, a testament to love lost and the pain of what could have been, hangs heavy in the atmosphere. Somehow you remember ‘Regret Me’ and how Daisy let out her feelings in the lyrics, you felt connected to her even though you left. Eddie's gaze, intense and unwavering, meets yours. It's a look that speaks volumes, a silent dialogue that only those who have loved and lost can fully comprehend.
You feel the audience’s attention, and your heart softens as you hear their voices sing along with you. As the song goes on, its lyrics casting spells of everything you once felt for the man by your side, the connection between you and Eddie becomes palpable, almost a living thing that reaches out and enfolds every heart in the venue.
With every verse, the space between you seems both to widen and to shrink, a paradox that only deepens the allure of your interaction. It's as if the song is a bridge you're both building back to a moment lost in time, laden with all the things left unsaid. The air vibrates with the tension of the unspoken, the weight of history that both separates and binds you two. It's a tension that speaks to the heartache of love's aftermath, the beauty of art born from pain.
You see in Eddie's eyes curiosity and at the same time regret, you consider looking away, but once you connect like that it is impossible for you to look away. It was like letting your souls show, and dance together. You approach him without taking your eyes off at any time, he accompanies you to the music feeling tense.
As the song reaches its crescendo, a silent conversation occurs in the span of a few heartbeats. It's a moment of vulnerability and power, a clash of emotions that spills over into the audience, leaving an indelible mark on the collective consciousness of the crowd. The applause that follows is thunderous, not just for the technical brilliance of the performance, but for the courage it took to bare such raw emotions in the full view of the world.
“Thank you so much ladies and gentlemen! I hope you enjoyed our show and have an amazing time with my friends… everyone, please welcome Daisy Jones and The Six"
You leave the stage accompanied by your band, you imagined that Eddie would stay on stage to save time, but the touch on your shoulder that makes you turn around tells you no.
“Hey, can we talk?” Eddie says, you can sense his tension.
“But, you guys are up next.” You point to the other band members arranging their instruments.
“I just, I wanted to know…” He holds back, trying to figure out what to say. “I just wanted to know if you still… if you still feel the same way about me.”
You swallow hard, “Do we really have to talk about this?”
“You know I didn't mean to hurt you.” You avoid his eyes. “I really didn't.”
“It's okay, we don't have to talk about it.”
“But I do want to, this song is…”
“Eddie, it's the truth.” You didn't know how to say this in another way. “I was hurt, and I guess I did a good job, because I'm sure you'll never forget the sound of me.”
He avoids your eyes, letting out a chuckle. “Do you think we can be friends?”
“I don't think I'm ready for that.” You say honestly, his eyes, despite being sad, seem to show understanding. “But maybe we'll meet again someday.”
“I really hope so.” He whispers.
“Hey brother, we gotta go.” Warren calls out for Eddie, turning to you. “You guys nailed it up there.” You murmur to him a “thank you.”
“Good-bye guys.” You say goodbye, leaving Eddie with just the sound of your love.
...
Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo
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#djats#daisy jones and the six#djats x reader#daisy jones & the six#djats fanfic#djats fanfiction#djats fic#daisy jones and the six fanfiction#daisy jones and the six fic#daisy jones and the six fanfic#daisy jones & the six fic#daisy jones & the six fanfiction#eddie roundtree x y/n#eddie roundtree fic#eddie roundtree fanfic#eddie roundtree x reader#eddie roundtree#eddie roundtree x fem#eddie roundtree x yn#eddie roundtree x fem!reader#eddie roundtree fanfiction#daisy jones and the 6#daisy jones and the six x you#daisy jones and the six x fem!reader#daisy jones and the six x reader#djat6#djat6 fic#djat6 fanfic#djat6 fanfiction#reasonsmandy writing
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The desire to possess (Part 2)
Summary: In the darkest of times, there is nothing more terrible than choosing between duty and love. And Rogal Dorn has to see it.
Perturabo/fem!Reader, Rogal Dorn/fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, possesive behavior, obsession
Word count: 1961
Song: Rammstein - Rosenrot
As you can see, if I'm not writing yandere, then I'm doing angst. I also realized that I wanted to write as much as possible about this trio. There will be no ending as such. There will be a part 3 - reader's POV (but not in this week). In general, I want to write drabbles around this triangle. Dorn and the reader love each other, and Perturabo suffers for her. Perturabo “loves” the reader, and she and Dorn suffer for each other. Every time inspiration comes, I will write based on them. Good plan? Good plan.
Rogal didn't mind the remembrances. They did their job, recording the deeds of the primarchs to leave them in history. The Emperor himself ordered all his sons to take chroniclers with them after the Uralon Triumph. Many simply resigned themselves to “taking the rats on board” without paying much attention to them. As long as they don't interfere. Fulgrim and Sanguinius took a huge number of historians, composers and musicians under their protection.
Dorn was not against the remembrances, but did not want mortals to interfere too much. Therefore, not everyone could get into the Phalanx. And especially to become Rogal’s personal chronicler. The primarch himself wanted to select candidates for this position. He has already found a historian who can tell the deeds of the primarch dryly and impartially. If remembrances even want to express their feelings, then this can be done through other art.
It was with these thoughts that he walked around the Imperial Palace. That's when he met you. You did not have time to win the attention of all Terra. And yet your master patronized your talent. Many mortals did not know about you, but the primarchs saw your sculptures. Rogal liked them. He even took some of them in his chambers.
But seeing you babble in front of the Iron Lord, the primarch realized that he would have to find another sculptor. You told Perturabo in such detail about which fortresses and buildings amazed you, which military campaigns aroused admiration... Dorn even for a second, but only for a second, felt envy.
"I don't care."
Perturabo rejects your services. He goes home, which not surprised Dorn. Such behavior was in the nature of the Iron Lord. And yet the Praetorian could not help but notice the range of feelings flashing across the Olympian’s face. He was pleased with the praise. And yet he decided not to give you his attention.
The Iron Lord goes away and you are left alone. Disappointed and depressed. And Dorn cannot help but feel a pang of pity for you. And a personal base desire to egg on his brother whom he disliked so much.
“Miss” - The Imperial Fist stands right in front of you and you flinch from the seriousness with which he looks at you. - “I saw your sculptures. You have the honor of serving as my remembrancer for the Phalanx. Follow me. I’ll tell you all the responsibilities.”
You blink charmingly in surprise and bewilderment. And nod before almost running after Dorn. The primarch lays out a list of responsibilities for you, inwardly rejoicing that you accepted his offer.
***
Rogal was pleased. You performed your duties well. You felt when it was worth talking to the primarch and did not distract him with demands to meet. And if he agreed to pose, then you worked strictly according to the schedule. By persisting improving your talent.
You were too feminine and loved beautiful things. But they were practical. You did not have the usual arrogance among remembrances. To be honest, Rogal can count on one hand all the times you didn’t try to not work. All you had to do was pick up any stone or piece of wood and you immediately started carving on it. Even fruit seeds could not avoid such a fate.
Nothing special, nothing significant or important. And yet Rogal himself did not notice how every day he began to think about you more and more. Remember your image. Play your voice in his head. Your gestures. He liked a lot about you.
How your thin, graceful hands were covered with marble dust from your work. The way you blew your hairs away when it came into your eyes. And how you wrinkled your nose when a thought wandered into your head and you didn’t know how to express it in stone.
Grandfather told him about his first love. How he felt at these moments, how he behaved. Almost with displeasure, Rogal realized what he felt for you. It was... unexpected. Fall in love. A mortal girl who didn't really do anything. But during the time that Rogal spent with you, he realized that he had become attached to you. He felt the desire to protect and care only towards his adoptive parent. And now you have appeared.
As you later admitted to Dorn, his declaration of love was... awkward. Almost funny and somewhat terrifying. He simply confronted you with the fact that you were now his beloved. Although Rogal did not put such meaning into his words. But you just smiled shyly at his bewilderment. And at that moment Rogal realized that he wanted to be with you all the time. To spenе the whole life with you. He hasn't felt as calm as he does now for a long time. Next to you.
***
You hold back your tears and don’t give in to hysterics despite your wish. The only thing that gives you away is your clenched fists. But you stand straight and your voice hardly trembles. If something stupid upset you, he would roll you into his grandfather's cape. Well, if you were in a more intimate setting, Dorn would whisper in your ear what a good girl you are... But the conversation is serious and he wants you to understand the whole terrible fate in which Imperium apperead.
“You know I won’t get in the way. I will sit quietly and keep my head down. I’m not stupid, I know that I’m of little use. But at least I can help treat the wounded and” - you take a deep breath without shedding a single tear. You always wanted to appear strong with the primarch and he could not help but appreciate your tenacity. - “I don’t want to leave you. I cannot leave you and go to another corner of the Galaxy while you are fighting for Terra. I won’t even know if you’re alive.”
“My sons, brothers and the Emperor will be with me. We will defeat the traitors, you can be sure. But I must focus on this battle. Your presence... fear for you will distract me from this.” - Dorn gently puts his arm around your shoulders. And with all the gentleness of which he was now capable, he looks into the eyes. - “The Greyestone Fortress is well fortified and, most importantly, is located far from Terra. My brothers have no use for this world, they only need the Solar System. This means you will be safe. And this will give me confidence in the battle. I want to protect you, don't you see it?”
You look closely into the primarch's eyes before nodding uncertainty.
"Fine. If you say that... then I have nothing to worry about. But Rogal, please,” you purse your lips and look as if one more second and he will evaporate. - "Be careful. I will be waiting for your return.”
The primarch squeezes your shoulders slightly. He almost reaches out to kiss you... but pulls away. Later. When the Siege of Terra is over he will wrap you in his arms and never let you go. But first he must do his duty. And nothing should distract him from saving humanity.
***
The Emperor has fallen. Dorn failed to protect the master of Mankind. His ghost, seated on the Golden Throne, will haunt Rogal forever. The Emperor's Light, the Beacon for Humanity, was lost forever. They were left alone.
The primarch donned in black. Accepted a heavy burden and a new role. Rogal was not going to allow traitors to continue to rule certain parts of the Galaxy. No, he was going to destroy them all. Spew them into the warp to cleanse the universe forever.
Dorn has not forgotten about you. He sent one of his subordinate ships to Greystone. To replenish provisions and serfs. Bring the necessary equipment to the Phalanx. A few mortals who could help Rogal deal with some matters. And you.
Reuniting with you should have eased the primarch's burden. Bring light and hope back to life. But the Imperial Fists returned with almost nothing. Greystone has fallen.
Perturabo captured the fortress, leaving not even a stone left of it. The Space Marines brought meager supplies of provisions and serfs who could barely stand on their feet. Some mortals close to Dorn survived. Others died during the siege. The warriors learned all the details.
Rogal listened carefully to his sons, not allowing disturbing thoughts to take over his heart. First business, and then love. Duty and service to the Emperor. He assured his father that you would not distract Dorn, no matter how much he was attached to you...
If you're alive, he'll never let you go again. You will live in his chambers forever. You will have your own security. The best mortal warriors. No, Space Marines. Dorn will love you. For real, like he never allowed himself to do. Taste happiness. He will allow his fortress to fall and bare his full soul to you and only you.
But if you are dead... completely dead and your soul is still swallowed up by the warp... Then Rogal will devote himself to cleansing the universe of abomination. No pity, no mercy. All traitors will pay for what they did to you and the Imperium. He will go forward until the very end. Your sacrifice will burn like a beacon in his heart and he will never give up revenge justice.
But everything turns out to be even worse. You are alive. And you are in the hands of Perturabo. Rogal remembered. He remembered that night at the fountain. When he calmed you down. Silently kissed and hugged. How he wanted to show you that he was confident in his choice. That he wants to spend all the eternity with you that you had at the whim of fate. How you smiled happily at the unusual tenderness from Dorn. He is too did not expect this from himself. But this manifestation of pure love only strengthened his thought. You are linked.
And no one will separate you. Especially the Iron Lord, who was watching you from the shadows. Dorn only pressed your figure closer to him, looking into his brother’s eyes. He is already tired of his greedy envy and lack of confidence in his greatness. Perturabo can lament as much as he wants, continue to torment his Legion and mortals... but he will not take you. You belonged to Rogal. No. You both belonged to each other.
And now you are in the hands of a traitor primarch. Who can do whatever he wants to you. He may laugh at you. Revel in your separation from Dorn. He will torment you. Just like the desire to establish himself in war and architecture, Perturabo will certainly want to appropriate your love for himself...
When the Space Marines mentioned that the attack on Greystone happened months ago, he sends them away. Does the Iron Lord want war? Want to laugh in his brother's face? Well, Rogal was more determined than ever to end their personal feud. He had been hearing rumors about the Eternal Fortress for a long time. Now he needed to concentrate all his strength and time on destroying this nest of heretics. The Primarch and his sons would feel real pain together during this siege.
Rogal wraps the Pain Glove around himself like a second skin. The device delivers electrical impulses and the man winces from the tension. More. More pain. He must clear his mind of hatred, anger and revenge through self-sacrifice. If he wants to lead the Imperium to the light, destroy its enemies and bring you back, then he must be calm. Must be humble and reasonable. He must do this.
He has no other choice.
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the sound of the applause
actor!eren x f!reader
**part of my method acting series
content: pain pre cursor.
an: songs mentioned - london boy by taylor swift, golden hour by jvke, girlfriend by avril lavigne. anyways. this chapter tame af. we are starting our demonic era. and no, you are not getting an eren pov until I say so. and I have covid so I am feeling extra evil and already writing the next one.
previous part linked here
--
You’re twelve years old the first time that you feel it.
You have hippies to thank for the entire ordeal. In your small, small town in Canada, there’s very little tension or importance on the arts. Singing, dancing, acting - like many places around the world - fall short to the highs and lows that come with sports.
Your middle school is no exception. A school that can barely spare money to fund a dying arts department, that begrudgingly offers one generalized art class that covers the basics of painting. Except when the hippy dippy parents in town petition, file a complaint with the mayor, they’re sequestered to include arts in all sectors that sports are included in.
A law that opens doors insanely. And creates the opportunity that exposes you to it. The singer showcase at the football pep rally.
And if you have to, you guess you have to thank food poisoning as well. Because Paulina, the original girl who was supposed to sing, was missing from first period that morning and you were all too quick to offer to take her spot.
They give you that pitchy, old black microphone and let you sing your heart out to one of your favorite old songs, At Last by Etta James. And when you open your eyes, the recollection of the performance is wiped from your mind seconds after you finish, and there’s only one thing you remember. It rings so hard, the sound so loud in your eardrums that it’s all you feel. The rush of the blood, the eyes staring back at you, and your cheeks burning.
When you think back, long and hard, that’s the first time it happens. The first time you feel it. It sits with you, that resounding pressure, that digs on you to give in. The need, the want, the infatuation with the rush you’re feeling.
And the obsession with the sound of the applause.
--
“Y/N. Wake up.”
You aggressively push your forehead into the plush of your pillow, creating a nice symphony of groaning songs in response to Danny, who is interrupting your beauty sleep.
“How long has it been?” you murmur into the pillow, the stinging in your head and the fatigue sitting in your body telling you it couldn’t have even been an hour.
“An hour. But I just realized, the bridge didn’t come out right when I was mixing so you have to record it again.”
“Can you come back in like three years? When I have the energy?” you groan.
“Y/N. I’ll see you in five down there.” he definitively states, shuffling out of your room.
Against every fiber of your being, you pull yourself out of the bed and drag yourself down to the studio, making it a point to glare at him as you re-record the bridge of the song you wrote yesterday. You give it a few tries, messing with the octaves and inflections, until you get a shining thumbs up, and wrap yourself into the blanket left on the couch.
“You write anything new?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
You hold out your green book to Danny, opening it to the page marked, at which your producer is already wrinkling his nose. He hasn’t even read the lyrics yet, but you’re sure the title - Cry - is already setting him off.
“You didn’t even read it yet.” you respond, frowning.
“I don’t have to read it to know it’s brilliant. But you were there in that meeting last week and you know this isn’t what we can push out.” he responds, turning back to his soundboard, half-pulling his headphones back onto his ear.
“Danny. I-I just haven’t been able to write songs like that lately. This is what’s coming out.”
After nearly a year of writing music and touring, Danny and Sareen have leaned heavily into your Lover Girl branding. An affectionate term used by your fans, but now the entirety of the breadth that you work with. You’re widely known for the lovey dovey, sweet songs you write so when anything that falls outside of that mold, it isn’t stuff Danny and Sareen appreciate.
But you haven’t been able to write any of that lately. Which only makes that resoundling, crackling, heavy pressure in your head worse. Like you’re defective.
He turns around in his swivel chair, taking the little bound book you’re holding out for him, as he starts flipping through the pages. The worn down book you were gifted on your birthday years ago is filled with every mess of lyrics you’ve written, though none of them are meeting the game plan that was set weeks ago.
That announcement sent everyone on your team into a frenzy, which was so far from your initial reaction.
First of all, it was a rumor. That you were one leg away from being a triple threat. Second, if it’s true, you’re ecstatic. Enthralled and honored and every feeling in between. That you were even in the consideration for being a triple threat, let alone a few feet away from it.
No one else on your team saw it that way. Your producer, Danny, saw this as a sign that you need to be making more music and faster. The songs you make take you weeks to write at this point, no thanks to the perfectionism that comes with writing the lyrics and working out the sound. He’s set a goal for you - to write one song everyday. It makes it - that impending doom in your head - ten pounds heavier.
Your manager, Sareen, is no better. She only took this as a sign that you need to start being more vigilant. A hard-assed woman in her forties, Sareen is all about work ethic. That staying determined is the only way that you will get through this. And she’s extremely blunt when she tells you so.
Stars don’t take breaks. If you want it that badly, you have to work harder. There’s six thousand things working against you, take it as a note that you need to be running faster. That you aren’t trying hard enough. Those are equivalent to dumbbells for that rock on your head, that you’re sure is responsible for pinching all your nerves.
And it’s a matter of proving yourself. To Sareen, Danny, Eren, and everyone who watches you.
You appreciate the push. It’s extremely draining, but worth it when your song releases are so anticipated that you’re selling millions of copies before the song comes out. Have sold out stadium tours, and are shortlisted for awards nearly every time you do something.
You wake up. Get ready for the show. Memorize lines in between shows, film when you don’t have shows. Write songs on flights, produce through voice memos since you’re hardly in one place at a time.
And when you think about it all, finally being a triple threat, finally getting to hear Eren say that he told you so like you said that first night on set together, it’ll all be worth it. It’ll be over.
You can stop running. You can stroll, swim, make the music you like. So you oblige. This is part of the process, you just have to push through. There’s an end goal in sight. And being near Eren is a part of it.
“Have you ever thought about writing a song about…Ricky James?” Danny asks, swinging around in his chair as he smiles at you.
You wrinkle your nose as you throw the closest thing, an empty CD case, at Danny as he laughs back.
“Ew, Danny. That’s so not a thing.”
Ricky James, an infinite, insurmountable amount of talent, was your co-star on your last movie, Little Women. A British singer-songwriter, who virtually blew up over night.
He was nice - definitely the charismatic, flirty type of co-star. You’re positive half of it is the accent. After the two of you started doing press for Little Women, everyone was swooning over the two of you together. At how you guys had a handshake, did your famous kiss scene in one take, and how in almost every interview, he made it a point to joke that he was in love with you.
You get it. It works well for the press, gets people talking about the movie. But you could never like a guy like Ricky James. Or anyone who wasn’t Eren, for that matter.
“I know it’s not a thing. You’re all goo goo ga ga over loverboy. But it’s the same thing that we did for Little Women. He used the fact that people like to speculate to his advantage. It wouldn’t hurt to do the same.” Danny responds, shrugging.
“I already do use that to my advantage. It’s no secret that I earned my whole Lover Girl branding from writing love songs about Eren.”
“Yeah, but you know how it’s been for Eren lately. Maybe it’s not the best thing that your name is attached to him anymore? For both of you?” Danny states.
Eren’s had a rough go of it lately. After Satellite Port failed and the joke they made at the awards show last year, he’s all but resigned into what you call hiding. He said that he’s just busy, focusing on landing new roles and getting more credits under his belt. You know that he recently signed a deal with Scott Clarkson to film five movies with his studio, which is promising.
But you know Eren too well. He’s retreating, hiding in all senses of the word. From you too. The texts he used to send you - good luck before every show, a good morning even though you were on different sides of the world - have ceased all together. And the few seconds you do catch him, he seems worlds away.
And it’s not just you who has caught onto it. The last time you saw Historia, when she came to watch your show, she mentioned that she was concerned about him, that she thinks he’s being a little bit self destructive by working with Stone Studios. That Scott Clarkson is not a good idea.
Granted, Scott Clarkson is buddy buddy with John. You know that’s a touchy subject for her and made it a point to bring it up to Eren. To see if he was okay. But you were flying out for a tour and forgot to. And then he started showing up in the press again, hanging out with the cast he’s been working with, so you figured it was fine. That he’s going out again, smiling in photos.
“That-that’s not true. He’s on the come up - he’s going to be the lead in the Gatsby remake that Stone Studios is doing. I’m sure he’ll get an award for it.”
“There’s no need to get defensive. I’m just saying it doesn’t hurt to expand your horizons. Triple threats are awarded for being versatile, not sticking with what’s easy. Maybe you just need to push the boundary of what you think you can do.” he says, giving your forehead a tap.
“It kind of feels like cheating to write a song about someone that’s not him.” you murmur, looking down at the pages in your hand. Eren’s handwriting is scribbled onto the invisible string page. Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.
“You know, Sareen’s not too keen about this relationship. And I know that Eren’s team isn’t either.” Danny states.
“Who are they to tell us who we can date?”
“It’s not about who you can date. It-it’s about the image. Tying your name to his doesn’t exactly always work in your favor, Y/N. There’s no loyalty in an industry like this. And for Eren’s case, you’ve never really helped him in that sense. When you stand together, with the success you’ve had, all they see is a failure in Eren, when he’s really not even that bad.”
“People’s comparisons aren’t my fault. And Eren’s doing fine, he-he’s okay.”
“Now, he is. But a few months ago, it was your name next to his that was dragging him down. If it comes down to triple threats and it’s between you and him, are you telling me that you would really pick him over you?”
Yes. One thousand times, yes. Though you know that’s not the answer Danny wants.
“You have to be more selfish, Y/N. And maybe that’s selfless for Eren's sake too. There isn’t room for the both of you, right now. I know you love him, but Sareen has a point. Is working this hard worth it if you don’t get what you want out of it? You and Eren have all the time in the world to be together, just focus on your career before him.”
You frown, staring at the wrinkles pressed up against his forehead.
“You can have what you want - have your cake and eat it too, write all these corny love songs about him after you make it. Stop running when you’re actually there, kid.”
You look down at the pages, the thoughts floating through your mind, as the lyrics start spilling out. For your first song that’s not about Eren.
London Boy.
--
You try to make a point to call Eren before releases. Key word, try.
But it doesn’t happen that way. Because Eren’s in Los Angeles and you’re in Tokyo and the time difference messes the two of you up so bad that when they surprise drop London Boy, you don’t get to warn Eren beforehand.
And when he texts you about it, you can feel the guilt creeping into your chest. Because you know he’s too nice to say what he actually thinks about it. If it were you, you’d wring Eren’s neck out for writing a song like this about his co-star he’s rumored to be dating. But Eren is Eren and he would never.
eren: “he likes my american smile?” babe, you’re canadian.
eren: i like the song. really.
you: i have dual citizenship.
you: eren. i’m so so sorry. i meant to tell you before but the time differences, we just kept missing each other. you know i don’t mean any of it, right?
you: it’s just a marketing thing danny and sareen planned. the song will be a hit if people are speculating who it’s about and stuff.
eren: i figured. you don’t have to explain yourself to me!!!!
eren: you’re a pop princess <3
eren: and currently number one on the billboard hot 100 for the fourth time in a row!!!
You nearly throw your phone across the room at the notifications, the frustration building so hard that it’s all pouring out of your head. You can see the stack of gifts at the front of the room - candies from Falco and Colt, as well as Marco, Historia, and Reiner - for the release.
And it’s moments like this, when you’ve been running so fast and pushing so hard, that you resort to one of your worst tendencies. Because the only thing that helps you when you feel like this is being a masochist. Feeling bad only makes you want to feel worse. Like you deserve it.
So you inflict it on yourself. By reading what people say about you online.
You reach back for your phone - ignoring the messages from Armin, Bertholdt, and Levi - as you scroll to Twitter, hiding the light of the phone under your sheets as you look through the app.
You look at the trending tab. Y/N L/N, London Boy, Ricky James, Eren Jaeger, and love is dead are trending.
You press your bolded name and swipe to the recents tab, scrolling through every tweet, each one categorizing, sticking in your mind as you scroll. A mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.
That you’re pretty. That you’re ugly. That you have no personality, that you write mediocre songs, that you’re the best actress from Attack on Titan. That you’re lucky for bagging Ricky James and Eren, that you’re too good for Eren, that you’re horrible for writing the song.
You place the phone flat on the sheets, the absence of light making your eyes sting, as the tears string out of your eyes.
You want to make your cake and eat it too.
But is it even worth it if this is how you have to get there?
--
You stick your hand out, swinging it in the air with Ricky as you do your handshake, and plop onto the couch. Danny and Sareen called a meeting with Ricky’s team before you guys went to the wrap party for The Proposal, which is the only thing on your calendar that you were actually looking forward to this month.
Because Annie and Armin are the leads and because you know Levi and Hange are going to be there.
“This is Michael and Nancy. They’re my talent managers.” Ricky states, pointing out the two people across from you.
“Sareen and Danny. Sareen’s my manager and Danny’s my producer.”
“Is he behind the genius of London Boy?” Ricky asks, smirking at you.
“Shut up. London Boy isn’t about you, Ricky.”
“Oh, shut up. I know I’m your muse.”
The line sits in your stomach wrong, because all you can think about is Eren. Seventeen year old Eren, shimmering green eyes on that empty set when you wrote New Year’s Day. You shake your head as Danny turns to the two of you, a smile on his face.
“We have an idea.” Danny states, a smile on his face.
You and Ricky nod as Nancy and Sareen start laying out the plan, each consecutive word twisting horribly in your stomach.
Surely they can’t be serious.
“We think that the two of you should date, as a PR move.” Sareen states, handing over a folder to you.
There’s dates listed out, public places where they want you and Ricky to meet at, and songs they want you to release about each other. All down to the slated releases, ideas for album covers, and interviews they want you to do.
“This is part of Y/N’s triple threat campaign. I think putting in this whole ruse of a relationship and writing songs about it, especially if there’s some part of it that will be drama because of Eren and Lana, it’s even better.”
“Lana?” you ask.
“She’s Ricky’s old girlfriend. They aren’t dating anymore, which is something that we should capitalize on. For the both of you. This should get Ricky into the leagues for the Album of the Year award when he releases next year.” Nancy states, flipping through the pages.
You look over at Ricky, ready to fully shut down the idea. But when you turn your head to him, he’s flipping through the pages, writing down his own ideas in the folder.
“Ricky. You’re not actually considering this, are you?” you whisper.
“You aren’t?”
“I’m dating Eren. No, I’m not considering fake dating you for the press.”
“Eren, who was seen on a date with Myka yesterday? Right.” he states bluntly, flipping through the pages.
“That’s just tabloids, Ricky. Be serious.”
“And so is this. Myka and Eren are in a movie together. You and I are musicians. You can do the same thing as him and I bet you he wouldn’t even care. And he shouldn’t, because your career comes first.” Ricky states, leaning forward on his knees to discuss more with Danny and Sareen.
You flip through the folder again, each consecutive page filled with more and more details of how they want you and Ricky to pretend. And the last page has the words bolded, little stars around them.
Y/N gets triple threat status! Ricky gets Album of the Year!
“Y/N. Have your cake and eat it too.” Danny warns, a reminder of what you’re supposed to be prioritizing.
“This is the time to run, Y/N. You’re almost there.” Sareen affirms, the two of them nodding as they look at you.
And by the way five of them are staring at you, big eyes filled with anticipation as they wait for your response, you know you can’t say no. That insurmountable pressure - to please, to be successful, to be the best - wins out, every time.
Danny’s produced for three different hit pop stars. Sareen’s managed some of the biggest names in the industry. And you have no idea who Nancy and Michael even are, but if they’re working with Ricky, they’ve got to be in the big leagues.
You put the folder down, giving all of them a nod, as they all erupt into cheers. Ricky leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek, which you tell him to save for the cameras, as you take the folder and walk out.
And figure out how you’re going to tell Eren.
--
You head to the wrap party three hours later and any excitement you had about the event is immediately drained when you know that Eren’s going to be there and you have to talk to him about it. Break up with him.
“Y/N!”
You turn around to find Armin and Annie, the two of them wrapping their arms around you as they press kisses to your cheeks. You try to stifle the literal tears that are making their way to your eyes at the sight of them, their blue eyes the same soft ones you’ve always known.
“Annie. Armin. I’m so excited for the movie, I’m sure it’s going to be great.” you say, squeezing both of their hands.
Two of your shyest friends still, they’re both blushing at the praise as Connie and Sasha walk up. You’re wrapping your arms around all of them, as everyone else - Reiner, Mikasa, and Jean - join you.
“So Y/N. London Boy, huh?” Connie asks, smirking.
“Did you guys know that Eren is from London?” Sasha says, sarcastically.
“Oh, quit it. It’s just one of those PR things. The triple threat thing made them all go crazy.” you respond.
“We respect the hustle, Y/N.” Connie states, mock saluting you with Jean.
“There is no press better than you and Eren releasing Medicine and Dress on the same day.” Mikasa states, earning a bunch of laughter from the group.
“Oh god. Don’t remind me. Whore move, from the both of you.” Reiner says, pinching your cheek. Connie mocks the ah ah ah, from Dress, which has you all laughing.
You smack his hand off as Marco slings his hand around your shoulders, squeezing hard and smiling at you so big, in earnest, that it makes your chest hurt.
“Can you believe it? You’re so close to it, Y/N - I can feel it.” Marco says, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your cheek.
You reach up to squish the plush of his cheek as Marco mimics your movements, the two of you smiling at each other. And then you feel two warm hands on your shoulder and turn around to see Eren, soft green eyes looking into yours.
And it makes you burst into tears. Soft green eyes, albeit a little tired looking, and Eren’s hair all grown out. When did Eren grow his hair out to his Season Three length? The last time you saw him, it was so short. He looks the same. He feels far away. And that pressure in your head is resounding.
“Yeesh.” Connie says at the sight of your spilling tears, earning quiet laughs from everyone.
Eren brings his hand up to your cheek, swiping the wetness away, as he glares at Connie.
“Connie.” Eren warns, the tone in his voice threatening.
“Sorry. Just missed him, that’s all.” you respond, wiping the last of the wetness off your face as they all smile at you.
“Man, every time I see one of you, you’re crying.” Hange says from behind you, the group of you turning your heads and immediately tackling them and Levi into hugs. Eren reaches for Hange first and you go for Levi, his stupid minty smell making your tears return.
You look up at Levi, who's glaring at you, and can’t help but smile.
“Levi. You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me.”
“I am happy to see you. But not when you’re crying in public. You two are going to give me an ulcer.” he states, frowning as he glares at Eren at your side.
You look over at Eren, the end of what Hange said catching up with you.
“You cried in front of them? About what, Eren?” you ask, voice soft.
“Ah. Nothing.” Eren responds, cheeks lightly pink as he runs his hand through his hair.
You both let go of Hange and Levi as Armin and Annie take to the makeshift stage, giving a little speech about their time on the film and how grateful they are for everyone in the room for supporting them. And as they do, Eren jabs his elbow into your side.
“Ow. What gives?” you whisper.
Eren places hand on his chest, feigning shock.
“Don’t tell me you forgot our secret hand signals already?” he whispers.
Jab in the side. Meaning, you need a second to talk, away from everyone.
“As if.” you respond, giving a nod to his sign.
He gives you a smile as you both turn your heads back to Annie and Armin, who are playing the trailer on the screen now. And when they finish, the resounding noise of the claps are the last thing you and Eren hear when you go out to the balcony, the cold air surrounding you both.
You wrap your hands around your arms, which Eren picks up on too fast and suddenly he’s taking his coat off and wrapping it around you. Making a point to pull your hair out of the collar, hands focused on fixing your hair around your face.
“Eren.”
“Yes?”
“I-”
The words die on your tongue. Because here he is, the perfect green eyes you fell in love with staring at you in the lamplight of the dark, and you can’t say it. You can’t shatter his heart into pieces or be the one to let him go.
When he’s one of the only things you’ve wanted.
“I know how you feel, Y/N. You don’t have to say it.” he whispers, hands tucking your hair behind your ears before letting go.
You can feel the tears spilling out of your eyes as you frown at him, the look on his face so pained that it hurts.
“I’m guessing they don’t want you to see me, at least not for right now?” Eren asks.
You nod, aggressively wiping away the wetness on your cheeks as you reach for his hands, squeezing three times. You hate that he knows. That Danny and Sareen think he isn’t good enough for you. When you’ve always been the one who was never in the same league as him.
That Eren was the one who defended you when you were there, but no one’s letting you do it for him.
“I still love you, Eren. You-you know that?”
“I know that.” he whispers, nodding. His eyes are focused on your hands, interlocked with his. He reaches in for your bicep, fingers tracing over the fish tattoo right above your elbow.
“Fishbowl, Y/N. We’ll come back to each other when it’s time. Just don’t be a stranger.” he says.
You nod, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around him as you nearly sob into his chest, his voice soothing your hiccuping, even though you’re the one who just smashed him into pieces. And when Eren wraps his hands around your cheeks, giving you one last lingering kiss, before walking away, you can’t help but sit there in the cold, his jacket wrapped around you and letting the tears bite on your skin.
--
You close your phone, giving Ricky a glowing smile, as you both settle into your seats at the Institute Music Awards. The two of you officially went public earlier today, though you’re both still denying any rumors that you’re dating.
“How does Ricky compare to Eren?”
You try to hide your scoff as you answer, trying your best to stay neutral in your response to avoid becoming a headline the next day.
“I’ll always have so much love for Eren. We grew up together and really came into this hand in hand and no one could ever really take that away. And there’s no bad blood between us, we’ll always be best friends.” you respond, giving them a polite smile as you walk away and swallow hard.
You can see Eren twenty feet down, in a specially designed suit that he looks wonderful in, smiling for the cameras. He’s standing in between Hyla and Myka, since their film is premiering in a few days.
“You look green, doll.”
You turn around to find Sukuna, who you fake punch in the shoulder and glare at, before pulling him in for a hug.
“You sure you’re not talking about yourself? That’s your girl down there.”
“Jesus, Y/N. Don’t ever associate me with her again.” Sukuna mutters, rolling his eyes.
“Oh? Was it not you saying she wasn’t that bad when we were kids?” you tease, poking into the soft of his cheek.
“Well, that was before I found everything out. I’d say a prayer for your boy over there, he’s about to get himself into a gnarly mess he won’t be able to get out of.” Sukuna responds, eyes focused on Eren and Hyla posing together a few feet down.
“What do you mean?” you ask, linking your arm with his as the two of you walk down, past him. You make it a point to attempt to make eye contact with Eren, but he’s too focused on Hyla that he misses you all together.
“I just mean…he’s about to get himself involved in things he shouldn’t. And you should stay far away.” Sukuna states, giving Ricky a polite smile as he joins you at your side. Sukuna gives you one last kiss on the cheek before Ricky links his arm with yours, dragging you to your seats.
You both settle into the seats, giving Marco a big smile as he sits next to you.
“Hey. Where’s Hisu? I saw her name card here earlier but it’s not here anymore.” you whisper, as the lights start dimming ahead.
Marco winces, giving you an awkward smile as he puts his hand over yours and squeezes.
“She doesn’t want to sit with Ricky. Or you.”
“Oh.”
“Just for today, Y/N. Because of the history and all that, you-you know that.”
You shake your head, ignoring the stinging, as you give Marco a half-hearted smile, nodding.
“No yeah. I get it. I’ll talk to her soon.”
“Okay.” Marco responds, giving you a smile.
You make it a point to do your best throughout the awards show, fake whispering in Ricky’s ears every time the camera is on you two, holding hands and comparing hand sizes, letting him tuck your hair behind your ear once and a while.
And it’s all going great and peachy, until Hyla gets called on stage to perform. You crane your neck back to find Sukuna, giving him a warning glance as he rolls his eyes, making the motion that he’s choking himself.
One of the most insane things about Hyla and Sukuna’s beef? The fact that they perform and write songs about each other, that are so insanely written, that they trend for weeks.
You’re sure Hyla and Sukuna are what Danny and Sareen dream about in their free time.
Hyla gets on stage, giving everyone a soft smile as a few of the girls join her on stage, adjusting their microphones. You can feel Ricky squeezing your hand hard, his jaw clenched.
“You good?”
“The lineup. Hyla, Myka, and Lana.” he responds, glaring at the three of them.
You focus your eyes on the third girl, Lana, who is Ricky’s ex-girlfriend. The only reason he wants to fake date you. Apparently, the two of them broke up after you and Ricky started trending, her insecurities about the people’s words overruling any reassurance that Ricky could give her.
“This is my new song, it’s called Girlfriend. I hope you all like it.” Hyla says, giving a smile as the upbeat music starts.
Hey, hey, you, you I don’t like your girlfriend No way, no way I think you need a new one Hey, hey, you, you I could be your girlfriend
You lean back as you observe the visuals and the line of backup dancers supporting the three of them singing, their performance extremely upbeat and punk pop star that you can’t help but tap your feet to the beat of the song.
That’s until they reach the bridge. When Hyla pulls one of the back-up dancers from the background to the front and Lana pulls Eren on stage, the two of them are seated on the makeshift chairs on the stage. Hyla’s singing around Eren, rolling her eyes at the back-up dancer.
Who's wearing the exact outfit that you wear on your tour, a sparkly, billowing pink dress. And when you take her in properly, you realize that she’s supposed to be you. The same hairstyle, eye color, skin tone. You can feel your throat dry as you watch Eren’s cheeks tinted pink on stage as Hyla sings around him, the entire audience erupting into cheers.
(Oh) In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger 'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinkin'?
You feel Marco’s hand on yours, squeezing hard, as you focus in on the performance, trying to ignore the fact that the big, black camera is shining on your face and that everyone in the room is looking at you. And that millions of people must be talking about it at home. You turn back to give Levi a look and he shakes his head, mouthing don’t cry which you halfheartedly nod in response too.
Jean and Armin have switched seats with the two girls behind you, their hands on your shoulders, squeezing, as Eren and Hyla walk off stage, hand in hand past the back up dancer who’s supposed to be you - who's crying fake buckets of tears now.
And when it’s all done and over, you skip the afterparties and let Mikasa drive you home. She tucks you into your sheets, making it a point to help you wipe all your makeup off and leave a bottle of water by your bed, you sink into your sheets and do it again. Let that overwhelming, embarrassing, deep rooted hatred sink in.
And pull up Twitter. Read about how everyone hates you. Relive the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you yet. Stare at pictures of Eren and Hyla and ignore the resounding sound of the applause the two of them received.
--
next part linked here
taglist:
@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasberr @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo
pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3
#seeingivywrites!#method acting#eren#eren x reader#eren x y/n#eren x you#eren jaeger#eren jaeger x you#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger x y/n#actor eren#actor eren x reader#actor eren x you#actor eren x y/n#aot actor au#aot#aot x reader#aot x y/n#aot x you#snk#snk x you#snk x reader#snk x y/n#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan x reader#eren yeager#eren yeager x y/n#eren yeager x you#eren yeager x reader
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Album Review: Rumours by Fleetwood Mac

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
i figured i’d kick my reviews off with one of my all time favorites. i consider this album one of my “evergreens” since it never seems to lose its place in my heart. i know this one is sort of a “no brainer” when it comes to favorite albums, but that’s all for good reason. this album is a classic, and quite possibly the closest humans will ever be to creating a masterpiece. it’s clear why so many people love this album, and its story is even more compelling.
first of all, it’s a wonder this album even exists. the fact its so good is even more of a mystery to me. let’s set the stage shall we? it’s 1976, and fleetwood mac has come together to write an album. only problem is, pretty much everybody has a problem with somebody else in the band. stevie nicks and lindsey buckingham, as well as christine and john mcvie, had split up (while his ex may not have been in the band, mick fleetwood was also going through a divorce while recording this album). yeah, imagine trying to write an album with your ex. and double it. imagine the tension in that room. no wonder they wanted to credit their dealer as one of the reasons the album came to be. take this as a warning kids, don’t date your bandmates. it never ends well.
but the strange predicament fleetwood mac found themselves in gave them a unique writing opportunity. christine, lindsey, and stevie were all writing songs for other bandmates. so, you get an album that’s essentially letters from different people experiencing heartbreak. i also find it funny that they basically wrote diss tracks for each other while the other had to play it with them. like taylor swift thinks she’s cool for writing songs about her exes? stevie nicks was singing songs about lindsey buckingham, and he was up there playing guitar with her. that’s a major power move.
regardless, fleetwood mac turned their heartbreak into a beautiful album. it truly goes to show much emotion and music go hand in hand. humans are always turning their lives into art, and i think that’s pretty neat. it also shows just how incredibly talented the band was. most people probably wouldn’t have even survived making an album in that situation, let alone a timeless classic.
when you think of the 70s, odds are you’ll think of rumours. it’s a walking paradox, really. it perfectly encapsulates that 70s rock sound, but seems untouched by time completely. rumours is still a beloved album, with plenty of young folks today embracing its messy beauty. but why? i assume one of the reasons is that it’s just that good. but i also feel as though its message is universal. everyone, from any point in time, has experienced heartbreak. who doesn’t like putting on a good song and getting in the feels? that kinda thing transcends time.
rumours became an iconic album, and one very close to my heart. maybe it’s my old soul talking, but i really hope this album will continue on forever. long live fleetwood mac.
(ps, if you wanna count it as a rumours song, sliver springs is my pick for the best live performance of a song ever. i’m obsessed with it.)

Listen to the album here:
#album review#stevie nicks#fleetwood mac#evergreen#all time favorites#lindsey buckingham#mick fleetwood#christine mcvie#john mcvie#Spotify#review
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𝔰𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔥 𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡
requested!
⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist
mutual guitar obsession
you and slash could talk about guitars for hours.
he’s always eager to hear about your custom setups, favorite riffs, and any new gear you’re excited about.
you both have way too many guitars, and he loves sneaking into your practice space just to admire your collection.
jamming together
late-night jam sessions are a regular thing.
it starts with you both messing around on acoustic guitars, but it always escalates into full-on shredding battles.
sometimes it ends in laughter, sometimes in you tackling him to stop him from playing the same blues lick for the hundredth time.
backstage bonding
when you’re both on tour at the same time, you make every effort to visit each other’s shows.
slash loves watching you perform, standing side-stage with a proud smirk as he watches you tear it up.
if you’re touring together, you end up practicing together and hyping each other up before every set.
leather and bandanas sharing
you’ve definitely stolen some of his bandanas, and he doesn’t mind—it’s kind of hot seeing you wear them.
he, in turn, has taken your leather jackets more than once, claiming they “just feel better” than his own.
teasing over solos
you both love pushing each other’s buttons, especially over who can come up with the most badass solos.
if he thinks yours is too technical, he’ll playfully call you a “show-off.”
if he plays something overly bluesy, you’ll joke that he’s stuck in 1954.
writing songs together
you two can sit down for hours, trading licks and coming up with ideas.
sometimes it leads to real songs, sometimes you just end up laughing and forgetting whatever you were working on because you got distracted talking about random things.
protective slash
if any guy in the industry underestimates you or talks down to you, slash is the first to step in.
he doesn’t need to fight your battles for you (because you can absolutely hold your own), but he has no problem letting people know they’re out of line.
affectionate in private
while he’s pretty chill in public, behind closed doors, slash is all about casual intimacy.
he’ll absentmindedly play with your fingers while you’re sitting together, drape an arm around your shoulders when you’re practicing, or kiss your temple while you’re tuning up.
music nerd conversations
you two can go off on long tangents about obscure metal bands, rare guitar pedals, or production techniques.
no one else can keep up with your deep-dive discussions, but you both love it.
whiskey and vinyl nights
on nights off, you and slash love to unwind by drinking whiskey and playing old records.
he’ll pull out some classic blues albums, you’ll counter with doom metal, and the night always ends with you debating which guitarists are the most underrated.
tour bus cuddles
if you’re on the road together, you’ll find ways to squeeze into each other’s bunks despite how small they are.
it’s not exactly comfortable, but neither of you really care as long as you’re close.
biggest fan energy
slash loves bragging about you to his friends, gushing about your skills and how you’re one of the best guitarists he’s ever played with.
he’ll casually drop into conversations like, yeah, my girl’s solo on that track is insane. no big deal.
#broidobe#guns and roses#guns n roses#slash#slash guns n roses#slash fanfiction#slash gnr#dating headcannons#slash headcannons#saul hudson#saul hudson x reader
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Hello, could I request a Platonic!Yandere (no romance) concept/scenario with Fluffy au Springbonnie/Springtrap. However, instead of the reader being human, they're a rabbit creature just like Springtrap.
Backstory could be that Springbonnie met them when the reader where recently created as a baby bunny. (For something to teach children about responsibility or something) However, things changed after the events of Golden Freddy and Springtrap. The story could be, (whichever you decide or change parts), that 1. reader, still a kit, was saved from Springtrap's massacre and taken to a different facility, returned to the old one after growing up a bit to find answers and finding Springtrap and him remembering them. Or 2. reader wasn't taken out in time and grew up in the abandoned facility, raised by Springtrap cause he remembered meeting them as Springbonnie when just born.
There aren't a lot of old stinky papa rabbit ( ´-ω-)
Ohhhh! I love this idea :D Here! This isn't part of main AU canon but I liked the idea so much I had to write it. While it is not part of main AU canon, there is a little bit of lore when it comes to the creations in this.
Lost Kit
Yandere! Platonic! Fluffy AU! Springbonnie/Springtrap Side Story (Not part of main AU canon)
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Attachment issues, Murder, Blood mention, manipulation implied, Isolation, Kidnapping, Monitoring, Violence, Brief drugging mention, Experimentation, Sadism mention, Dubious companionship.

The golden rabbit's nose twitches as he watches the scientists hold the small bundle in their arms. Inside was a young rabbit, fur soft and fluffy. The sight makes the lovable Springbonnie tilt his head.
What was this?
Even when he was introduced to the smaller rabbit, only just maturing from a kit, he was still confused. His caretaker told him their name and their purpose. This rabbit was meant to get Springbonnie used to children…
This rabbit was you.
Soon you'd mature but giving you to Springbonnie as a kit was meant to help get him used to creatures younger than him. Plus, you gave him someone else to talk to other than Fredbear. As you grew they'd monitor results.
These anthro mascots created by Afton had exceptional growth rate. Within merely months experiments would hit maturity. Which meant getting results shouldn't be too hard between you two.
Wasn't long before the results rolled in.
Springbonnie, one of their first experiments, quickly took in the small kit. Cameras recorded each development no matter how small. Instinctively, Springbonnie cared for you as though he was a father.
The rabbit quickly sang tunes and played songs for the smaller rabbit. He kept you close to his soft chest and licked you to bathe you. In response you reciprocated the affection of the older rabbit.
You quickly imprinted on the golden rabbit, seeing him as your father.
As you matured, tests and results kept rolling in. They gave you both food and tested how well you both performed. You learned quite a lot from your father.
Caretakers even caught you singing along to tunes your father sang. They caught you copying movements and behaviors. It was clear your bond was strong.
However, as you matured it was soon time to separate you two. By the time this experiment began you had hit what scientists considered “teen” age. This usually occurs a couple months in.
It was difficult to part you from the older rabbit. You showed hesitance and Springbonnie even showed uncharacteristic aggression. As a result both rabbits had to be subdued, mostly Springbonnie as you were quickly compliant.
By the time things settled you had your own room. You even had your own caretaker that you slowly began to bond with. However… Springbonnie's reaction?
Newfound aggression. Springbonnie expressed uncharacteristic anxiety and aggression when you were not in sight. Occasionally you two were allowed to visit but all visits were overseen by your caretakers.
While visits helped… Springbonnie's mood soured. His bond with the kit appeared to be too strong. Now it was nearly impossible to continue training the golden rabbit.
Springbonnie began to resent his caretaker. They had given him a kit to raise, and for what? They took them away from him?
The thought makes Springbonnie grit his teeth. After that was he just expected to continue rolling over for them? No… he won't comply… not until he has his kit back.
If he doesn't have you back… he isn't sure what he will do.
—
By the time you're fully mature is when the facility falls into chaos. By this point you know most of the story, don't you? Sirens blaring… red light swallowing the hallways… blood paints the walls… the scent of decay settles in.
All of this was caused by Springtrap's infection and Golden Freddy's jailbreak.
Springtrap, no longer the sweet golden rabbit many knew, took pleasure in the hunt. All the rage pent up from the theft of his kit made him enjoy feeding his more sadistic side. All of this continued…
Right up until he saw you again.
In the middle of the chaos stood you. Springtrap recognized that familiar scent you had. Even with blood covering your fur… it was you.
Springtrap's bloodlust calms and his eyes dilate. You looked so scared. When your eyes snap to him… you shiver.
He's different now. His scent smells more like decay than the comforting scent he had during your short youth. The familiar scent smells so drowned… It hurts your nose.
Springtrap is concerningly quick when he rushes towards you. You let out a concerned squeal when he wraps himself around you. The older decaying rabbit chitters towards you lovingly, even as you try to kick away.
Oh… he's missed you. That scent you have is comforting even now. Springtrap doesn't care that he caused most of this mess… or if you're scared.
Daddy's home to comfort you, sweet kit.
Springtrap calms once he has you. He drags you back to his familiar room before curling around you. The older rabbit nuzzles into your fur… even if you twitch away.
He loves you no matter what… he'll raise you, even in this rotting wasteland of a facility.
….
He smiles when he recognizes your familiar fur and bright eyes as he holds you in his claws. How could he forget the bright red eyes you have? It's such a shame your white fur got stained with blood. In fact, the dried blood almost looks like a brown pattern on you.
In his eyes, it only adds to you.
You still look like the beautiful kit he had before he became a bloodthirsty monster.
Don't worry, dear kit… your father will teach you all he knows just like when you were young.
#yandere five nights at freddy's#yandere fnaf#yandere springbonnie#yandere springtrap#yandere fnaf fluffy AU#yandere fluffy AU springbonnie#yandere fluffy AU springtrap
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Thought I'd dust off this 10-year-old Tumblr and invite A03 readers and any Bob Dylan fans to keep up with my writing here. Other unrelated content to maybe be added, maybe not. I really struggle with personal writing. I always think of it as looking at one's own excrement and then inviting others to gawk too. It feels strange and gross to write a blog and expect others to be interested in it. RE: The Patient. Part VI is in progress. I got blocked in late October--or maybe that's just a grand way of saying "busy." I have a personal life into which I'm forever cramming little interests in side projects, and then it was November 5, 2024, and then of course the unthinkable happened again, which I suppose makes it thinkable. And maybe that's why it wasn't as devastating this time around. I used the occasion to disconnect from the political news cycle and continue a recent left turn into poetry, which I haven't written in 15 odd years or so. Actually Bob Dylan was the reason for my foray back into it. I saw him live in September and was quite moved by the experience. I got to thinking about his legacy, all the interpretations and expectations people put on his lyrics and performances and public endeavors throughout the years, and the disappointment it seemed like 5/6 of the audience that night felt over the fact he's not attempting to play recognizable versions of his songs. Which is ridiculous, because you can go back to 1966 and he wasn't attempting to replicate the recorded versions. It seems ridiculous that anyone should expect an 83-year-old to try to mimic a 25-year-old. So a poem came pouring out and I sent out it for publication. I secretly hope it will be so good that the editors will have no choice to select it. I'm also realistic, since I've gotten my first rejections the past couple months. That's one of my other behind-the-scenes projects. I'm shopping around a book to an agent (not fiction) and I've gotten three or four rejections so far, and I'm just letting it "bake" for now, just like I've been letting The Patient bake, but more on that in a moment.
In November, Bob tweeted: "Saw Nick Cave in Paris recently at the Accor Arena and I was really struck by that song Joy where he sings ‘We’ve all had too much sorrow, now it the time for joy.' I was thinking to myself, yeah that’s about right.” I read Cave's response, and particularly loved this:
I did indeed feel it was a time for joy rather than sorrow. There had been such an excess of despair and desperation around the election, and one couldn’t help but ask when it was that politics became everything.
The world had grown thoroughly disenchanted, and its feverish obsession with politics and its leaders had thrown up so many palisades that had prevented us from experiencing the presence of anything remotely like the spirit, the sacred, or the transcendent – that holy place where joy resides.
While I abhor the lazy line of thinking (and I'm not at all suggesting this is where Cave is coming from) that "both sides are at fault/just as bad/to blame" and have no intention of disengaging from politics, at least locally, Bob and Cave's reflections had me reflecting. Life is so short. Music, poetry, writing, and nature make it worth living. There's something to be said for tuning out of the hateful noise and tuning into those things, at least for select periods. So I wrote poetry and I drank in music and I finished the book I started that night at Bob's concert, Susan Hill's Strange Meeting. I'd never heard of Hill before but had picked up my 1970s paperback copy at a "donate what you can" book sale earlier that day because it was slim enough to carry around. This chance purchase ended up being my favorite book of the year. Not only is Hill an amazing writer, the whole experience of the book was just gutting. I realized midway through that it's a love story. There are no overt overtones of queerness, although I suppose you could read the book that way if you wanted. I kept thinking about the characters days after I read it. I've just bought three or four more of her books. So to get back to The Patient, I haven't written partly because I've been busy in my personal life and partly because I've been directing my creative energies elsewhere. I'd be lying if I didn't acknowledge I was stuck on the story, though. I know how it ends, but I couldn't see the footpath there. It didn't bother me overtly. I don't know if I really believe in writer's block, at least for me. I've learned that I go through periods of fallowness and periods of intense growth. I was letting it percolate before I started pushing it along with pomodoros. At some point today, though, I started chewing over Bob and Joyce again, and things clicked. I know fan fiction is "only" fan fiction, but I still take it seriously. I want to do right by the characters.* They just weren't talking to me lately. I know what Joyce wants and what she thinks so wants, and I know what Bob thinks he wants and he's afraid of, but I didn't know what happens in the meantime. So anyway, I'm about 4k words into the chapter with 5k to 6k to go. Estimated completion date is January. The overachiever in me wanted to finish it before the Chalamet film was released yesterday, partly because I didn't want anyone to think the story had been influenced by the film, but the part of me that's gone to therapy said, 'Slow down and chill the fuck out.' I haven't seen the Chalamet film, but I'm cautiously optimistic. I might go catch it on Monday or Tuesday. I don't find Chalamet much of a heartthrob. It's the elder millennial in me I think. Also the me that just detests pop culture. I saw him in Little Women and completely forgot he'd been in it. The more checked out I am from pop culture the better. Anyway, enjoy this photo of Bob by the pool ca. 1965 that I stole off the Internet. You can find The Patient here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55283422?view_full_work=true
*Make no mistake, Joyce and Bob are characters. I have no pretense that I know Bob Dylan. I can make educated guesses about Bob Dylan. Plus writing is just fun, doubly so with real musical artists and writers because they're so multilayered. There's a lot of material to work with, but you get to fill in the interstitials too.
#Bob Dylan#Nick Cave#timothee chamalet#BobDylan#Fan fiction#Writing#Creative writing#On writing#Susan Hill#Novels
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