#i've only ever used one typewriter in my life

[verved]

one of my fav things about watching older shows in an at-the-time contemporary setting is seeing all the old tech that was a part of everyday life. it's so fascinating how much is now obsolete but was so incredibly important for day to day use by people from all walks of life during that time period.

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[irisintheafterglow]

Parley? (opla!zoro x you)

summary: a stranger arrives to disturb your peace and you have no choice but to negotiate with him.

wc: 2.57k

cw/tags: first meeting, swearing, mentions of canon-typical violence including blood and swords, zoro doesn't know how to express his feelings

note: i'm so nervous posting this ngl because i really like zoro as a character but i'm scared that i'm not gonna do him justice since i don't know him as well as gojo or geto or bakugo etc etc etc. hopefully all yall zoro girlies like this because i've been itching to write for him since my explore page became nothing but mackenyu. enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

You hear the chimes first. The melody is soft, nearly imperceptible to the untrained ear, but you sense it. After all, you were the one who tied the string under the walkway floorboards in such a way that the bells above your window would clink if something pressed down on the wood. Over time, you learned to identify where outside was being pushed based on more strings and bells. It made it easier to find the Lady, on the rare occasion she stepped into open air and you weren’t with her. However, whoever was now setting off your makeshift alarm system had footsteps unlike the usual occupants of the house. The quietness of the notes was unsettling, in a way, because it meant they were creeping around the house. Someone didn’t want to be heard. 

It was the flowers next, the roses with uniquely reflective petals that were especially good at bouncing moonlight precisely through your window. The Lady commented one day in the market that she’d taken a liking to that particular flower, and you bought the vendor’s entire stock to plant around the house once you realized how it could be used. Not before you built a crow’s nest-like window, first. The glass structure jut out of the house in just the right way that you received colors from the left, right, and front of the house. Had an intruder approached from the back, your only blindspot, you would hear the more insistent clicks of the typewriter keys attached to the outside deck panels. The nearly noiseless bells and the ominous shadow sneaking across your wall were enough to snap you wide awake. 

The soles of your feet meet cool stone as you slide from under the covers, wrapping the sheath of your saber around your waist and slipping out of your bedroom. Despite the darkness of the hallway, your legs move by memory to the Lady’s chambers only to find the door already ajar. 

Shit. Were you too late?

Slinking into the room in one graceful stride, words leave your mouth without thinking when you see him standing over your Lady, holding two deadly-looking swords. 

“Taking a life halfway gone is immoral no matter the bounty, pirate hunter.” His head snaps in your direction and you have your blade on him before he can blink, resting the point lightly but threateningly against his throat. His eyes narrow on you challengingly and you put ever so slightly more pressure into your hilt, forcing him to surrender and sheath both swords. The third, you note, remains undrawn on his hip. “No better targets to pursue than a retiree? I expected better from the demon of the East Blue.” His gaze remains unchanging while you step forward, inching him backward until his head hits the wall with a soft thud. You were thankful, for once, that the Lady was starting to lose her hearing and was always a deep sleeper. 

“She’s wanted,” he says in a low tone. 

“She’s withered,” you retort. “Killing her advances justice no more than leaving her alive.” His face is still unreadable, void of any emotions just as the rumors conveyed. Many tales circulated of the infamous pirate hunter, but you chose to believe the Lady to be far too irrelevant to pose any real threat to the Marines. As one of the last known powerhouses of the Gold Roger era, it was more likely her wanted poster would be drowned out amongst younger hotshot pirates than for her to become an actual target. And yet, here was the most feared bounty hunter in the seas, hunting down a myth that many assumed was already six feet under. And for what, fun? 

“It doesn’t matter. Honor is a courtesy denied to killers.” He speaks in a way like you wouldn’t understand his ideas, and it sends a white-hot flash of anger racing through your veins. 

“Ooh, yes. You’re being so honorable by julienning a defenseless old woman while she sleeps.” To your surprise, he flinches, unwillingly bringing your eyes to corded muscle and flexed biceps. It’s a bit of a struggle to refocus on the task at hand. “Enlighten me on how this makes you feel vindicated.” 

“I kill pirates for a living,” he states simply, nodding over to the slumbering mass under the thick comforter. The tip of your sword follows every movement he makes, careful not to give him an opening to strike. Unexpectedly, he seems almost relaxed, like the weapon at his throat was the least of his worries. “That woman is a pirate.”

“That woman was a pirate. She is no longer the ‘Captain Indigo’ you seek.” 

“Who is she now, then?”

“Lady Lavender, adored by her constituents and far removed from a life of piracy. If I weren’t on the verge of spilling your organs on the carpet, I’d say visit the farmer’s market on Tuesdays. You’ll see just how different her life is now.” His chin tilts in disagreement.

“The Marines say otherwise.”

“What do you say?” A minute tilt of your wrist angles your saber so that the point now resides under his sharply defined jawline. “Hmm, hunter? Any opinions in that thick skull of yours or are you just another mindless government weapon?” 

“You understand nothing,” he mutters like an indignant teenager, looking off to the side woefully. It makes your blood boil.

“Try me,” you snarl at the green-haired stranger. In another life, you’d have thought him pretty handsome, if you weren’t so infuriated by his indifferent sense of justice. He knew nothing about you, or the Lady, or what either of you had to endure to create a sense of safety. Safety, you would add, that you weren’t going to give up easily. 

“This woman you serve, what are you to her? A caretaker? A child?” 

“A friend,” you answer cautiously. “Something your line of work would know nothing about.” 

“The Marines know that your friend murdered the former governor and seized the island in an act of desperation,” he informs you with a note of condescension. “They’ve wanted her gone for ten years, and I am here to collect her head. It’s not personal; it’s business.” The incorrectness of his information is laughable, but what concerns you more is the ease with which he talks of taking lives. 

“You don’t feel any sort of remorse for the targets you kill?” The anger in your stomach starts to rub against a different, unwanted influx of sorrow. After witnessing the change in a ruthless pirate empress, you refused to believe a human could be this heartless. 

“I don’t dwell on them long enough to care. Most of the time, they do something stupid that makes it a little easier to dispose of them.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong about her,” you recover, pressing the blade against his skin on the brink of drawing blood. He winces, squirming against the wallpaper for some sort of relief. You don’t budge. “The former mayor was a half-brother whom she reconnected with after Gold Roger’s execution. His death was caused by a misdosage of medicine used to treat hemorrhoids he’d suffered with since he was twenty. On his deathbed, he made her promise to take care of this city...” You inhale, focusing on the man in front of you. His expression is soft, nothing like you would have expected from a feared killer-for-hire. He was actually listening to you. 

“Go on.”

“And to take care of me. I have the great pirate hunter at the end of my blade, so she must not have done that bad of a job at either request.” He’s silent for a moment and you watch the cogs turn in his brain, hoping he’d find some humanity and realize that killing the Lady isn’t just pointless, it’s fundamentally wrong. 

“It doesn’t change the fact that I need money.” Nevermind, then. Backup plan it is. 

“I understand that,” you concede, and you remove your weapon from his neck. His hands are on the hilts of his swords instantly, but he doesn’t draw them. He could kill both you and the Lady in a single swing, but he doesn’t. Maybe you did reach a different side of him. “That's why I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

“I don’t make deals with pirat–” he starts, but abruptly cuts himself off when you raise your eyebrows in expectation. Did you not learn anything from what I just told you? His face contorts in confusion, as if his mind was at odds with what his body was telling him to do. After carefully schooling his expression into blankness, he stands to his full height, rolling a broad shoulder. “What’s the deal?”

“You’re aware of the Blue Ringed crew, yes?”

“Famous for their poisons, I’ve heard,” he confirms and you nod. “They cover every inch of their ship in toxins and wear special clothing to prevent contact with their skin. Makes it hard to sneak up on them.”

“Exactly. See, you’re not as uneducated as you look,” you tease and you feel your face heat when he sticks his tongue out at you. It’s so boyish and immature, in stark contrast to the handsome, god-bodied man that faces you. “I happen to have a counteragent, enough for you to get on their ship and collect three times the amount if you killed us tonight.” 

“And what would you get in return?”

“The sound of your boots walking off the property and never returning,” you whisper a little desperately, pleading with him to leave your perfect peace intact and forget this altercation ever happened. The quiet in the room as he ponders your offer is suffocating save for the gentle snores of Lady Lavender. Eventually, he takes your deal, inspecting the powder-filled vial when you bring it to him on the front porch. 

“How do I use it if it’s powder?”

“Mix it with lotion to help soak it faster into your skin. When your skin is dry, you’ll have roughly an hour to navigate the boat completely immune to the poison. It’s sweat resistant but will wash off with seawater, so take care not to get thrown overboard,” you instruct him, crossing your arms across your chest against the chilly ocean air blowing in from the south. It was breezier than normal and you regret not grabbing a sweater. Unless you wanted to freeze your ass off, you needed to finish this debacle quickly. “Kill the pirates, get your bounty, and leave us the hell alone. Deal?” 

“Fine by me.” He carefully places the vial in the pocket of his pants and begins his descent down the front walkway. Before you can turn back into the house, however, his voice reaches your ears so lightly you think you’d hallucinated it. “Stay warm.” 

He doesn’t end up keeping his side of the deal. A few days after your initial altercation, he approaches the house again in broad daylight holding a box about the size of your hand. You stare at him in disbelief, reading in the nook of your window and he has the audacity to smirk at you when he spots you looking. 

“I thought we had a deal, pirate hunter,” you remind him when you open the front door of the house. It was infuriating how good he looked for having just returned from a pursuit, dressed up in fine fabrics with his hair combed back nicely. The irony was palpable, the situation not unlike the stories the Lady told you about the numerous men who attempted to court her. They appeared at the same front door with flowers, rubies, and promises of devotion, but none of them actually wanted her heart. In contrast, you wanted to stab the heart of the idiot in front of you. 

“Stop calling me that,” he frowns and you can’t help the laugh that leaves your mouth. “My name is Roronoa Zoro–”

“Oh, sorry,” you interject and his eyebrows furrow at your lack of manners. “Am I just supposed to act like you’re my friend now? After you tried to kill my boss?” 

“I thought we were past that,” he states bluntly.

“That was four days ago.” 

“It’s enough time to move on.”

“You’re impossible.” You shake your head in disbelief, slightly puzzled at the giddy feeling in your chest when the faintest smile appears on his face. “What’s that?” You gesture to the rosewood box in his fingers. 

“Consider it an apology,” he says, holding out the box for you to take, “for bothering you the other night.” 

“How chivalrous.” You eye the box warily, still unsure about the enigmatic bounty hunter before you. “But we don’t need nor want your money.”

“It’s not money. Just open the damn box,” he grunts impatiently and you begrudgingly oblige, sliding back the top panel to reveal a bracelet. It wasn’t like any other bracelet you’d seen before, a gold chain garnished with a single deep green emerald barely the size of your pinky fingernail. It was delicate and elegant, subtle enough not to draw attention but luxurious enough to make you feel spoiled. “Do you like it?”

“I do, actually. The color is pretty,” you reply slowly, still slightly in shock. “Why green?”

“Take a wild guess.” He smirks again and your gaze flicks up to his hair. It was just as vibrant as the gemstone and he watched you carefully as the pieces clicked into place. With the bracelet, you’d be forced to think of him every time you looked at it or anything the color green. What kind of guy buys a momento for almost killing you, you had no idea.

“You didn’t need to bring me this. I thought the deal was–”

“I remember what the deal was, but I felt bad making you stand outside shivering while you explained how the counteragent functioned.” Your eyes widen slightly at his admission. He noticed you reacting to the wind, so how intensely was he watching you that night? If he sees your surprise, he doesn’t comment on it and continues to explain why he brought you the gift in the first place. “The powder worked, by the way. I snagged this from the captain’s chambers on my way out.” 

“You stole this because you saw me get cold?” He merely shrugs, clearly unbothered. 

“I mean, yeah. You looked miserable.”

“I was miserable.” He smiles slightly again, the corner of his mouth quirking in amusement. It makes your heart stutter against your wishes. “Does this mean we’re even now, pirate hunter?”

“Call me Zoro and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“You’ll consider it?” 

“Holding a sword to someone’s throat is a major transgression that can’t be forgiven so easily,” he taunts and you roll your eyes. “Let me start over, meet you properly without the involvement of weapons.”

“You really want to see me again?” He scoffs at your question as if the answer wasn't crystal clear.

“What, bringing you a bracelet wasn’t obvious enough? I’ll have to bring the entire ship next time. Might take a little longer to get back to you.”

“Get off my porch, Roronoa Zoro,” you laugh, reaching out to push his shoulder away and feeling every inch of his skin against your fingers in the brief moment your bodies touch. “Don’t come back unless you have something important to say.” 

“I think you’ll soon find out what I prioritize as important.”

[woozisguitar]

my loooove congrats on your milestone omgg 🤧❤ also i'd lay my soul down on the road for a jun fic from you sjksjk. i still think about the way you put ttpd for jun in your svt as ttpd songs IT SUITS HIM SO WELL. so maybe something inspired by that? a fic, a drabble, or just even how you think he fits the elements of the song in general. honestly, you can do anything you like you have the full freedom to be creative ofc <3

congrats againnn i'm so happy for you 😭💕 also feel free to ditch the fic if you're not up for it, it's totally okay ml <333

esa my loveee 💕💕💕💕💕 thank you so much!! the fact you remember I put ttpd for jun I rlly hope you like it!! sorry it took a while jshdlj love you and thank you again 😭😭 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

requests for 200 celebration post: open (but slow updates!)

warning: kinda angsty and long, sorry 😞 BUT its a happy ending dw

You left your typewriter at my apartment Straight from the Tortured Poets Department I think some things I never say Like, "Who uses typewriters anyway?"

when you first met junhui, you found him to be a little… weird. there was no better way to put it other than this, and he was not weird in a bad way. sort of eccentric rather? or maybe reserved? this was in the third year of university, in a creative writing class. with no other seat remaining, you took one next to him. you tried to smile and make pleasantries, an attempt to make a friend in the literature department as this was your only english class. now that you think about it, perhaps it wasn't just junhui, because the professor decided to call this class of 30-some students “the tortured poets department,” and assigned the semester project, which was writing a short book of poems about the person next to you, who was also your now-assigned partner. that was the first time junhui spoke to you. a simple hello and introduction, an attempt to make acquaintance with the person he was going to spend the next few months writing about. over time, you found that junhui had rather a … peculiar sense of humor. he liked cats and often resorted to using only cat memes in conversations. he liked spicy food, albeit his tolerance was not that high. oh! and he owned a typewriter and his only explanation ever was ‘i'm a writer and this is the most efficient tool,’ with an expression as blank as the paper he was writing on. you teased him ever so often, asking the rhetorical question, ‘who uses typewriters anyways?’ throwing a small teasing smile in his direction which he bashfully returned.

But you're in self-sabotage mode Throwing spikes down on the road But I've seen this episode and still loved the show Who else decodes you?

during a discussion lecture about franz kafka, you discovered junhui might have more underlying layers compared to what he tells people. he would often point at a self-criticizing quote or excerpt and joke that it was about him. but his eyes often told a different story. he also had… days when he’d disappear and his only answer was he had to get the inspiration out of his head and on paper. over time, you got used to this, the sudden disappearance, the sometimes concerning jokes, all of it. and you still stayed by his side as a friend. it wasn't uncommon for the professors and class members to ask you about junhui’s absence and what surprised you more was that you knew exactly where he’d be.. 

And who's gonna hold you like me? And who's gonna know you, if not me? I laughed in your face and said "You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"

this friendship with junhui eventually blurred into something more. it wasn’t lovers, not yet, but it also wasn’t just friends. you’d discuss philosophies and arts beyond the confines of the project and class. no, he was slowly taking the place of the closest person in your life, your best friend. and you liked to believe you did for him too. junhui would often talk about making it big as a writer, meeting big names at even bigger venues. you’d often laugh at his dramatics and found them endearing. 

but now, years after not hearing from him, you knew he made it big. you read all his books, hell, you even have copies in your library but you’d always deny if asked. ‘we aren’t who we want to be. nor are we in a place where we should be. we’re modern idiots, that’s all,’ is what he said before he left your apartment and that was the last you heard from him. none of your tears, crying, begging could stop him at that moment. looking back, the only trace of his existence, apart from the wounds on your heart, was the stupid typewriter snow globe he got you.

And who's gonna hold you like me? Nobody No-fucking-body Nobody

so you let him go. despite your hurt, you knew you had to let him go. that was the only way he'd realize no one could love him, hold him, know him like you. you went to class the next day and found that junhui had shifted to finishing his semester online. he already had the credits to graduate, all he had to do was sit through the last week of this semester. your professor asked if you’d like to submit your part of the book and present alone, to which you agreed. this set of poems was, after all, evidence that what you felt for him was real. the junhui you knew was real.

You smoked, then ate seven bars of chocolate We declared Charlie Puth should be a bigger artist I scratch your head, you fall asleep Like a tattooed golden retriever

the absence of his presence haunted you like the echo of a poem you never wrote. you tried to live your life normally, walking past the old shops and stores, allowing yourself to indulge in the memories of junhui once in a while. like the convenience store outside which you dared him to eat seven bars of chocolate in one go, or the alleyway where you and him tried your first cigarette, and immediately regretting it, making you giggle quietly to yourself in the dead of night. you adopted a cat, sylvie, in hopes to distract yourself, but that ended up being a terrible plan because she reminded you of him in every possible way. she would fall asleep the same way junhui would in your lap. petting her was the closest new equivalent of scratching his head as he slept.

But you awaken with dread Pounding nails in your head But I've read this one where you come undone I chose this cyclone with you

things weren't working out for junhui either. ever since he left you, he convinced himself it was for the best. he knew about his tendencies, his weird habits and attributes, and he also knew you'd accept him, flaws and all. and while he had made peace with the idea of sabotaging himself, he would rather die than let anything hurt you, even himself. he convinced himself, in a true poetic fashion, that leaving you meant he would never be able to hurt you ever again and you won’t have to deal with any of his tendencies. ever since then, he would often wake up in sweat, remnants of a nightmare and faint outlines of your figure still prominent when he’d close his eyes. he would see his books, his poems, come to life in these dreams starring you as the main character. on some nights, the memories with you would plague his mind and feel like nails pounding in the forefront of his skull. but junhui’s conviction and love for you outweighed everything else. even if he knew this would kill him, this heartbreak, he would still endure it because it had you written all over it.

And who's gonna hold you like me? (Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?) And who's gonna know you like me? (Who's gonna know you?)

so he wrote. and he wrote. till his brain was filled with letters and every waking moment felt the need to be penned down in his diary. he thought that maybe if he made it big, he would go back to you and tell you proudly that he did it. he would finally be able to confess his feelings and emotions rather than using words as camouflage. he wouldn't be a modern idiot trying to find his place in this world. he would be your idiot. just yours. he knew, in the back of his mind, the chances of you still feeling the same as him were slim to none, but he still convinced himself that he had to do this for you. during his first book release, he spent the entire tour and interview, looking for you in every face. when questioned about his dedication, ‘to the one I’d always leave my typewriter with,’ he would simply laugh and say it was an inside joke and the person he’s dedicating this book to would know. 

but years passed and you never reached out. when junhui tried to visit you at your old university, he found that you moved after graduation and severed contact with everyone. he tried calling, texting, letters to your parent’s home, all of it but you never responded. he visited every single place in this world that could have a tie to you and searched, but alas he could not find you. when he returned, he was about to give up hope to ever find you again and accept his fate. that’s when he saw you, standing against the railing overlooking the park lake. you looked exactly as he remembered you, and for a second he was transported back to your apartment. you hadn't noticed him looking at you yet, and he basked in your presence from afar for a moment. but you looked up and your eyes met his.

I laughed in your face and said "You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots" And who's gonna hold you like me? (Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?)

for the first time in years, junhui braved up, put on his smile, and walked towards you. with each step, he could feel his heart pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. when he reached you his first thought was that he was wrong. he should never have left. he had everything he could've asked for but he didn’t have you and everything else felt like dust without you. and that you were much, much more beautiful than when he left. when he met your eyes, he saw swirls of sadness, anger, but he also liked to believe he saw hints of love.

“hi,” he squeaked out, “i’ve been looking for you.”

“i know. my parents called to tell me about the letters,” you said, guarding your face devoid of any expression, crossing your arms in front of you, “why reach out now junhui?”

“i was wrong. all those years ago, i was wrong. i shouldn’t have left. ever. you were the only person in this entire fucking world who saw me, my bestest friend. and… and i just left you,” he finished, breathless.

No-fucking-body (Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you?) Nobody (Who's gonna hold you? Gonna know you? Gonna troll you?) Nobody

“yeah you did. you left me all alone for years junhui. who exactly do you think you are? you’re not franz kafka and i’m not milena jesenská. i don’t care what messed up idea of love you have in your mind, but i am willing to love you. i will always be willing to love you. i don’t care how much it will ruin me in the process, i know you’ll save me in the end, because we are y/n and junhui. we make our own story. let me rescue you this time, junhui,” you ended with the quote, tears brimming your eyes.

“letters to milena,” he breathed out, “you read kafka? you hated his works. always complained that they were too sad and depressing.”

“you liked them though. i did everything i could to feel closer to you. i even have that stupid typewriter snowglobe you got me,” you giggled, wiping the corner of your eyes.

junhui wiped his own eyes, smiling at you fondly.

“so, mr. writer, do you want to follow the steps of the ones who came before you or are we writing our own story where i finally get to hold you forever? there’s also space for a new typewriter in my apartment, you know.”

junhui laughed, wiping his tears and nodded, “yeah, fuck the poets. let’s be modern idiots and write our own story.” junhui kissed you for the first time that night, against the lake with the moon shining bright above you, in a true poetic fashion.

Sometimes, I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me But you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave And I had said that to Jack about you, so I felt seen Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be, ‘cause we're crazy So tell me, who else is gonna know me? At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger And put it on the one people put wedding rings on And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding Who's gonna hold you? (Who?) Me Who's gonna know you? (Who?)Me

“i know it’s too early to say this now,” junhui started as the two of you lay wrapped up in bed in the comfort of your apartment, his fingers drawing patterns on the ring finger of your left hand, “but i will put a ring on this finger someday. i think i’ll die if you leave again.” you giggled at his promise and kissed his nose. “i think i would die too, so i guess it’s a good thing i don’t ever plan on leaving,” you wrapped your arms around his frame, snuggling closer to him. junhui hummed, his heart content for once in his life.

Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Who's gonna hold you? Gonna know you? Gonna troll you?

“everyone probably thinks we’re crazy,” you said after a moment of silence.

“i guess but they don’t know us like us, so there’s that,” he said, his voice drifting off, “as long as i’m holding you, i don’t really care about the people now.”

You left your typewriter at my apartment Straight from the Tortured Poets Department Who else decodes you?

with his typewriter sitting in the corner of your living room, you knew your life with him was now for the better. he was still a tortured poet for the world, but at the end of the day, it was still you who could decode him. no one else.

a/n: the cat being called slyvie is a reference to Sylvia Plath (sorry im a nerd like that 😔)

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 17

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

Oystein had finally settled into his new apartment and had just gotten off the phone with his dad about the last payment for the record shop. He had decided to step away from focusing on making the next record to follow another one of his passions. Helvete was his new baby and his record label would be working out of the shop to expand the Black Metal genre to as many people as he possibly could.

He sat at his typewriter and placed the photo Y/n had left him with the day they last spoke on the desk to the left. He kept the old photo of himself, Y/n and Pelle just next to that one. The day she slugged him and wrote him off, she probably would have been surprised to know that he kept that photo in the inside pocket of his jacket.

He stared at the photo for a few moments before putting a piece of paper into the type writer.

"Y/n, Please read what I have to say before you toss this into the garbage. I know it's selfish of me to ask for anymore of your time but you have to know that what we had, in the beginning, that was real. All of the moments we shared where I could be myself with you- if I could have lived in those moments again, I wouldn't change a thing. You were right though, we were always doomed to fail. Our paths are just too different. I want to apologize for how I treated you the night you came to the show. I know the first time I watched Dea-"

Oystein pulls a bit of white out from the drawer and covers the beginning of his name before resuming.

"I know the first time I watched Pelle cut his arms, it was fucked up. I had no idea what to do or how to respond to that. Honestly, I've never really experienced anything like that before Pelle. I knew I couldn't let him know that because I feared it would only make him retreat more. Your response to it was normal and I'm sorry I treated you like it wasn't. I also want to apologize for how I reacted to you in the bar that night. I can't pretend I wasn't caught off guard by the guy you walked in with but that is no excuse for how I came at you. In the time that I spent not hearing your voice or seeing your face, I tried to block out all the things you made me feel. I tried to chalk it up to us being too different or this life scaring you away but that day after Pelle killed himself...I know I fucked up Y/n. I regret everything I've ever said or done that has hurt you even for a second because the only hurt you ever caused me was my own fault."

Oystein sat back in the chair, reading over what he had already written and felt incredibly vulnerable. A part of him really hopes she just trashes the letter and doesn't even bother reading it.

"I've decided to take a step back to focus more on other passions. I have started my own record label and will be operating it out of that corner shop down from Hammed's shop. I know you probably think I've done this to torment you but I've had my eye on that store for years. I want to take the creation of Black Metal and show people what it can truly be. Not all that extra, commercialized bullshit that people think it is now. I've always wanted to do this but I want to show people what we worked so hard on, what Pelle and I worked so hard on."

Oystein looked at the photo again and wished Pelle could have been here for the birth of Helvete. He thinks that a safe haven where he would never be alone is something that could have saved him.

"I know I'm just saying a lot of things that don't really mean shit to you but you were a big part of what kept me believing in myself. I hope maybe you'll give it a second chance and stop by the shop. I would love for you to see what I've created and give you a new look at what I love so much instead of wishing for its demise. I know it will never be what it was before but I feel a piece of me will always be tethered to wanting what could have been between us."

Oystein hated everything he wrote almost immediately but he couldn't just keep starting over. He wanted to send this letter before the shop actually opened in case she decided to show up and put him on blast.

"I know you'll probably always hate me and I understand why you do. I just hope you'll find a small place for me in your heart to at least try and be a better person in your eyes. Please, give me a chance to prove to you that I'm not the heartless monster you think I am."

He read it one last time before pulling it from the typewriter and signing the bottom of it. He would never admit that he actually followed her home one night just to have her address to send her this letter. He would take that to the grave. He knew this was a bad idea but he desperately needed something to keep him grounded. The nightmares he had after Pelle were unbearable. He had never been afraid of dwelling in the darkness until Pelle killed himself. Now he was worried he would sink into the darkness never to be found again. He wanted Y/n to be the one who kept him from losing himself entirely.

yours, Øystein 

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Tortured Poets Department by Taylor Swift (Part I)

FORTNIGHT

I was supposed to be sent away.

They forgot to come and get me.

I was a functioning alcoholic.

Nobody noticed my new aesthetic.

All of this to say, I hope you're okay.

No one here's to blame.

What about your quiet treason?

For a fortnight there we were forever running.

You're in my backyard turned into good neighbors.

I want to kill her.

All my mornings are Monday stuck in an endless February.

The effects were temporary.

I love you, it's ruining my life.

I touched you for only a fortnight.

My husband is cheating.

I want to kill him.

I call you up but you won't pick up.

Another fortnight lost in America.

Buy the car you want.

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

You left your typewriter at my apartment.

Who uses typewriters anyway?

You're in self-sabotage mode.

Who else decodes you?

Who's gonna hold you like me?

Who's gonna know you if not me?

We'rе modern idiots.

You smokеd then ate seven bars of chocolate.

I chose this cyclone with you.

Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be.

Because we're crazy.

That's the closest I've come to my heart exploding.

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS

Here we go again.

You should've seen him when he first got me.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys.

I should've known it was a matter of time.

There was a litany of reasons why we could've playеd for keeps this time.

I know I'm just repeating mysеlf.

He runs because he loves me.

'Cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

I knew too much.

There was danger in the heat of my touch.

He saw forever so he smashed it up.

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

He was my best friend.

I felt more when we played pretend.

He took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart

Told me I'm better off, but I'm not.

DOWN BAD

Did you really beam me up?

Tell me I was the chosen one.

For a moment I knew cosmic love.

Now I'm down bad, crying at the gym.

Everything comes out teenage petulance.

Fuck it if I can't have him

I might just die, it would make no difference.

Come back and pick me up.

Fuck it if I can't have us.

I might just not get up.

I might stay down bad.

Did you take all my old clothes?

They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about the existence of you.

For a moment, I was heavenstruck.

I loved your hostile take-overs.

I'll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.

How dare you think it's romantic leaving me safe and stranded?

Cause fuck it, I was in love.

Fuck you if I can't have us.

SO LONG, LONDON

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

My spine split from carrying us up the hill.

I stopped trying to make him laugh.

How much sad did you think I had?

Did you think I had in me?

You'll find someone.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out..

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

I left all I knew.

I stopped CPR.

Thе spirit was gone.

We would never come to.

I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.

Two graves, one gun.

I'll find someone.

You say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it.

My white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared.

Every breath feels like rarest air.

Just how low did you think I'd go before I'd self implode?

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof.

You sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days.

I'm just getting color back into my face.

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place for.

But I'm not the one

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

I forget how the west was won.

I forget if this was ever fun.

I just learned these people only raise you to cage you.

What a mess.

I just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you.

Too high a horse for a simple girl to rise above it.

They slammed the door on my whole world.

But, daddy, I love him.

I'm having his baby.

No, I'm not, but you should see your faces

No, I'm not coming to my senses.

I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want.

Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.

You're this chaos, he was revelry.

Stay away from her.

Lord knows the words we never heard.

I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'.

I'll tell you something 'bout my good name, it's mine along with all the disgrace.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me.

Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see.

You ain't gotta pray for me.

It's just my choice.

There's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles.

Scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer.

We came back when the heat died down.

Went to my parents and they came around.

All the wine moms are still holding out.

Fuck 'em, it's over.

Even my daddy just loves him.

I'm his lady.

Oh my god, you should see your faces.

I know it's crazy but he's the one I love.

FRESH OUT OF THE SLAMMER

I'm running back home to you.

I know who my first call will be to.

He don't understand me.

Handcuffed to the spell I was under.

But it's gonna be alright.

I did my time.

Toss the ashes off the ledge.

I will never lose my baby again.

My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it.

Watched me daily disappearing for just one glimpse of his smile.

All those nights you kept me goin'.

Swirled you into all of my poems.

Now we're at the starting line.

No matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway.

Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up, now that I know what's at stake here.

FLORIDA!!!

You can beat the heat if you beat the charges too.

They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true.

My friends all smell like weed or little babies.

The city reeks of driving myself crazy.

Your home's really only a town you're just a guest in.

Can I use you up?

I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away.

Well, mе and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time.

Yеs, I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine.

Well, no one asks any questions here.

So I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body.

Is that a bad thing to say in a song?

I need to forget.

I've got some regrets.

Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable.

At least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, Florida

I need to forget, so take me to Florida

What a crash, what a rush.

It's one hell of a drug

Love left me like this.

I don't want to exist.

[littlesheeneffect]

She's My Husband (Part 10) ❤️

Miles Maitland x yn (AFAB Genderfluid)

So, Miles moved most of his things in to what I so loved to hear him call, "our home". Though, due to not wanting more ill light to spread, he made sure to spend his nights at Maitland Hall at least three times a week, and make it seem as though he still lived there. He said, "I dont want anyone to get any awful ideas into their dirty minds about the character of you, y/n. Having a man come and stay with you- they might get it into their heads that we are not married," he added, with that mischievously cheeky grin and clap of his hands.

Nina and Adam came over to visit quite a bit as well, wich was a very welcomed taste to how things used to be.

Miles newfound job as a part time editor of a local paper, one that covered the latest scandals and gossips, was a windfall. He could then keep a pulse on any suspicions around any of us.

A couple weeks went by like that.

We still shared my bed as it was the only one I had and there wasn't room for another. Yet to Nina's surprise, we would fall asleep holding hands and never so much as thought of doing anything more.

Then came a fateful day, that will forever live in my memory. A dark rainy day, not unlike many others.

Miles had spent the last couple nights at the Hall, and had planned to come over after work and errands. I was busy finishing up some typewriting for a book I was writing. A book he so diligently inquired about, but I kept the story secret. It was half past three when a knock came at the door, and a familiar face was met.

....

In the heat of afternoon town, Miles gathered his few small items wrapped in brown paper from the shop and began walking down the cobblestone. A broad shoulder pushed past before a voice called, making him pause and turn. "Maitland, what are you doing here?"

"My, my- Tiger LaBeauchere; How on ever are you doing?" Miles turned, recognizing the fellow. An old admirer from a couple years back. "I'm good, how's it been with the gang? I hear some odd things. Terrible news about Agatha," he said drawing closer. "Oh, yes. Awful awful, she really is such a doll, poor thing."

Tiger nearly cut Miles off, "Say, um," he gave a few quick glances about before drawing even closer and continued, "I hear you've taken up a new lover. Is it true all I've heard about it?" Miles retracted and slightly furrowed his brow, "It?"

"Yeah, the, um, well- I've heard it's a she. But not. More like a he." The tone of his voice drawing a feeling from Miles he didn't have much experience with, though it rose his blood. "I believe it is none of your concern Tiger, but to get to your point, however deranged it may be- I do have a lover and I don't know what you've been told." He made himself mutter most of it to withdraw any unwanted attention.

"I didn't mean to offend you Miles," Tiger straighten himself and put a hand on Miles shoulder, as they continued walking. "I just, you are different than other guys. She is still a she, no matter how good her Masquerading is. And I know you," Miles paused and turned to him, calmly yet decidedly, "Well, clearly not. I intend to live out my entire life with y/n, and marry if she will have me. I know we thought we had good times Tiger, but I love her with all my heart. Nothing will stand in between us, except ourselves." Tiger was agast and speechless.

"Nice to see you Tiger, good day." Miles spun on his heel and headed home in the drizzling rain, in the light of the shops.

....

I stood, shock reining my face. "See ya 'round, lovey!" The Scottish voice rang out as the man left down the street. "What if Miles doesn't want it?" I called. He turned quickly. "That won't be a big deal," he shook his head pettishly. I felt the jostle in my arms and had to tear myself back to the scene before me. In my arms, was a small baby. Thankfully it was a dog, yet none the less just as shock inducing.

'Old english sheepdog, ay?" I finally got the mutter out, as I looked into it's squirmy little face. "What in the heck." I sighed, turning and going in the house.

After another half hour, I head the door unlock and Miles enter. "I'm home darling! And I brought you something I think you'll really enjoy," his look of blissful joy to be home, froze when I clambered into the entrance with a whining puppy at my feet.

"Oh Miles! I'm so glad you're back," I went to hug him but the pup ran in the way, making me draw back. "Wh-where did he come from?" He asked surprised. "Um, Ginger Littlejohn stopped by and said he didn't have any where to put the pup and wanted to see if I'd like to take him on. Trust me- I wasn't intending to keep him unless you want to!"

Miles' face showed a wave of confusion, and the shadow of deep emotion that I couldn't pin down.

"Ginger? From the night with, with the Bobbys. The redhead, he, he came here again?" He asked, not really looking at me. "Yes, yes he stopped by today. H-He," His sudden voice broke through my concerned one- "Did you invite him in?" "I did, but we just stood out on the stairs and he gave me the puppy. If, is there something wrong Miles?" I asked worriedly.

He shook his head and exhaled. "No l, it's just..." he looked off, embarrassed, angered even. I never seen him like that, and didn't know what to make of it.

"He, he's stopped by before. I don't think he means any harm Miles, we should be alright." I tried, thinking he was concerned about people. "He has?!" Suddenly odd emotion broke forth, his eyes reaching mine. A threat of extreme brokenness in them- I was stunned. "D-do, do you, are you seeing him?" He near muttered holding back glistening tears.

"Miles" I gasped, speechless, "Why, wh-what would make you even think such a thing?" "He stops by when I'm not around, he brings you gifts, you never even mentioned it. It's like how it all felt the time the police were here," he replied shakily.

"Miles, I was only like that before to keep on our cover. I don't think anything of -" he cut me off with his hurt and tearful frustration, "Well, you sure didn't mind it! Him and his magic tricks, his flirting with you. You just went along with it, you are still going along with it, y/n. An, and I just," tears broke loose. But when I raised my hand to comfort him, he pulled away and shielded his face.

"No, no. I am fine. If you wanted someone else, you could've just told me, y/n. I will never stand in between you and your happiness again." He added coolly, before suddenly gathering himself and heading to the door. "Wait, Miles- I, it's not like that. I, I would never, please" I stammered on the verge of breaking down myself.

He quickly opened the door before choking out, "Good night, y/n. I, I am going back to, to the Hall."

.... To Be Continued......

[wearelondonhq]

Happy Meme Day!!! If you want to take part all you have to do is reblog this post. Remember if you reblog to send them out to EVERYONE who also does. Meme lasts from today until the next Wednesday (may 1st).

FORTNIGHT

I was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me.

I was a functioning alcoholic.

Nobody noticed my new aesthetic.

All of this to say, I hope you're okay.

No one here's to blame.. what about your quiet treason?

For a fortnight there we were forever running.

You're in my backyard turned into good neighbors.

I want to kill her/him/them.

All my mornings are Monday stuck in an endless February.

I took the miracle move on pill, the effects were temporary.

I love you, it's ruining my life.

I touched you for only a fortnight.

My husband is cheating... i want to kill him.

I call you up but you won't pick up.

Another fortnight lost in America.

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

You left your typewriter at my apartment.

i think some things I'll never say.. like who uses typewriters anyway?

You're in self-sabotage mode.

Who else decodes you?

Who's gonna hold you like me?

Who's gonna know you if not me?

We'rе modern idiots.

I chose this cyclone with you.

Sometimes I wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be.. because we're crazy.

At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on.. and that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding.

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS

Here we go again.

You should've seen him when he first got me.

My boy only breaks his favorite toys.. i'm queen of sand castles he destroys.

I should've known it was a matter of time.

There was a litany of reasons why we could've playеd for keeps this time.

I know I'm just repeating mysеlf.

He runs because he loves me.

'Cause you should've seen him when he first saw me

I knew too much.

There was danger in the heat of my touch.

He saw forever so he smashed it up.

Once I fix me, he's gonna miss me

He was my best friend.

I felt more when we played pretend than with all the Ken's.

He took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts.

Told me I'm better off, but I'm not.

DOWN BAD

Did you really beam me up?

Tell me I was the chosen one.

For a moment I knew cosmic love.

Now I'm down bad, crying at the gym.

Everything comes out teenage petulance.

Fuck it if I can't have him.. it's like i lost my twin.

I might just die, it would make no difference.

Come back and pick me up.

Fuck it if I can't have us.

I might just not get up.

I might stay down bad.

Did you take all my old clothes?

They'll say I'm nuts if I talk about the existence of you.

For a moment, I was heavenstruck.

I loved your hostile take-overs.

I'll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.

How dare you think it's romantic leaving me safe and stranded?

Cause fuck it, I was in love.

Fuck you if I can't have us.

SO LONG, LONDON

Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

My spine split from carrying us up the hill.

I stopped trying to make him laugh.

How much sad did you think I had?

Did you think I had in me?

You'll find someone.

I didn't opt in to be your odd man out..

I founded the club she's heard great things about.

I left all I knew.

I stopped CPR.

Thе spirit was gone.

We would never come to.

I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free.

Two graves, one gun.

I'll find someone.

You say I abandoned the ship, but I was going down with it.

My white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment.

My friends said it isn't right to be scared.

Every breath feels like rarest air.

Just how low did you think I'd go before I'd self implode?

You swore that you loved me but where were the clues?

I died on the altar waiting for the proof.

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

I forget how the west was won.

I forget if this was ever fun.

I just learned these people only raise you to cage you.

What a mess.

I just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you.

Too high a horse for a simple girl to rise above it.

They slammed the door on my whole world.

But, daddy, I love him.

I'm having his baby... no, I'm not, but you should see your faces.

No, I'm not coming to my senses.

I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want.

Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.

You're this chaos, he was revelry.

Stay away from her.

Lord knows the words we never heard.

I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin'.

I'll tell you something 'bout my good name, it's mine along with all the disgrace.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me.

Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see.

You ain't gotta pray for me.. it's just my choice.

There's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles.

Scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer.

We came back when the heat died down.

Went to my parents and they came around.

All the wine moms are still holding out.

Fuck 'em, it's over.

Even my daddy just loves him.

I'm his lady.

Oh my god, you should see your faces.

I know it's crazy but he's the one I love.

FRESH OUT OF THE SLAMMER

I'm running back home to you.

I know who my first call will be to.

He don't understand me.

Handcuffed to the spell I was under.

But it's gonna be alright.

I did my time.

Toss the ashes off the ledge.

I will never lose my baby again.

My friends tried, but I wouldn't hear it.

Watched me daily disappearing for just one glimpse of his smile.

All those nights you kept me goin'.

Swirled you into all of my poems.

Now we're at the starting line.

No matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway.

Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up, now that I know what's at stake here.

FLORIDA!!!

You can beat the heat if you beat the charges too.

They said I was a cheat, I guess it must be true.

My friends all smell like weed or little babies.

The city reeks of driving myself crazy.

Your home's really only a town you're just a guest in.

I got drunk and I dared it to wash me away.

Well, mе and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time.

Yеs, I'm haunted, but I'm feeling just fine.

Well, no one asks any questions here.

So I did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body.

I've got some regrets.

Tell me I'm despicable, say it's unforgivable.

At least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, Florida

I need to forget, so take me to Florida

What a crash, what a rush.

Love left me like this.

I don't want to exist.

GUILTY AS SIN?

I hadn't heard it in a while.

My boredom's bone deep.

This cage was once just fine.

Am I allowed to cry?

I dream of cracking locks.

Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox.

I'm seeing visions.

Am I bad, or mad, or wise?

What if he's written "Mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

Oh, what a way to die.

I keep recalling things we never did.

Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

There's no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.

We've already done it in my head.

Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

What if I roll the stone away?

They're gonna crucify me anyway

What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly.

I choose you and me, religiously.

WHO'S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?

You don’t get to tell me about sad.

If you wanted me dead you should’ve just said.

Nothing makes me feel more alive.

Who’s afraid of little old me?

You don’t get to tell me you feel bad.

Is it a wonder I broke?

Let’s hear one morе joke.

Then we could all just laugh until I cry.

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean.

Don’t you worry folks, we took out all her teeth.

So tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is?

Say they didn’t do it to hurt me, but what if they did?

I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me.

You wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

All you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs.

I’m always drunk on my own tears, isn’t that what they all said?

I’ll sue you if you step on my lawn.

I’m fearsome, and I’m wretched and I’m wrong.

Put narcotics into all of my songs and that’s why you’re still singing along.

You lured me and you hurt me and you taught me.

You caged me and then you called me crazy.

I am what I am 'cause you trained me.

I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN)

The smoke cloud billows out his mouth like a freight train through a small town.

The jokes that he told across the bar were revolting and far too loud.

God, help her.

I told them he's my man

I can fix him, no, really, I can.

The dopamine races through his brain on a six-lane Texas highway.

His hands so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face.

I could see it from a mile away.

A perfect case for my certain skill set.

He had a halo of the highest gradе.

He just hadn't met me yеt.

Good boy, that's right.

Come close.

I'll show you Heaven if you'll be an angel, all mine.

Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.

LOML

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing back into rekindled flames?

We were just kids, babe.

You said I'm the love of your life.

A con man sells a fool a "get love quick" scheme.

I felt a hole like this, never before and ever since.

What we thought was for all time was momentary.

Mr. Steal-Your-Girl, then make her cry.

You shit-talked me under the table.

I wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all.

You're the loss of my life.

I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit.

They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" And I did.

Lights, camera.. bitch, smile.. even when you wanna die.

He said he'd love me all his life, but that life was too short.

All the piеces of me shatterеd as the crowd was chanting "More".

I was grinnin' like I'm winnin'.

I can do it with a broken heart.

I'm so depressed, I act like it's my birthday every day.

I'm so obsessed with him, but he avoids me like the plague.

I cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art.

You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

I can hold my breath.

I've been doing it since he left.

I keep finding his things in drawers, crucial evidence I didn't imagine the whole thing.

THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED

I don't even want you back.

I don't miss what we had.

Could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived?

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

Were you writing a book?

Were you a sleeper cell spy?

In fifty years will all this be declassified?

You'll confess why you did it and I'll say, "Good riddance".

It wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden.

I would've died for your sins, instead I just died inside.

You deserve prison, but you won't get time.

You said normal girls were "boring", but you were gone by the morning.

You kicked out the stage lights, but you're still performing.

You are what you did.

I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive.

THE ALCHEMY

This happens once every few lifetimes.

These chemicals hit me like white wine.

What if I told you I'm back?

The hospital was a drag.

Worst sleep that I ever had.

I circled you on a map.

I haven't come around in so long.

I'm coming back so strong.

Ditch the clowns, get the crown.

Baby, I'm the one to be.

The sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me.

Honestly, who are we to fight thе alchemy?.

Hey, you, what if I told you we'rе cool?

That child's play back in school is forgiven under my rule.

I'm making a comeback to where I belong

We've been on a winning streak.

There was no chance trying to be the greatest in the league.

Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me.

BONUS! BELOW THE CUT, FIND MORE OPTIONS FROM A MIX OF THE ANTHOLOGY TRACKS!

credit goes to @perspectivestarters !!

I move through the world with a heart broken.

I may never open up thе way I did for you.

Six weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke.

I can tell when somebody still wants me.

Once you fix your face, I'm going in.

Whether I'm gonna be your wife, or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet.

I'm gonna get you back.

Whether I'm gonna curse you out, or take you back to my house, I haven't decidеd yet.

You'll find that you were never not mine.

Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

Pick your poison, babe, I'm poison either way.

A touch that was my birth right became foreign.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

You know how to ball, I know artistotle.

Everyone knows that my mother is a saintly woman, but she used to say she wished that you were dead.

When I count the scars, there's a moment of truth, that there wouldn't be this, if there hadn't been you.

One day, your kid comes home singin' a song that only us two is gonna know is about you.

[meredithbeckham]

the tortured poets department. songs one through five.

i was supposed to be sent away.

they forgot to come and get me.

i was a functioning alcoholic.

i hope you're okay.

you're the reason, and no one's here to blame.

what about your quiet treason?

we were forever running.

sometimes you ask about the weather.

your wife waters flowers.

i want to kill her/him.

all my mornings are monday stuck in endless februrary.

i took the miracle 'move on' drug. the effects were temporary.

i love you, it's ruining my life.

i touched you only for a fortnight.

but i touched you.

my husband is cheating.

i called you up, but you won't pick up.

i think some things i never say.

who uses typewriters anyway?

you're in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down the road.

i've seen this episode and still love the show.

who else decodes you?

who's gonna hold you, if not me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

i scratch your head, you fall asleep.

i've read this one where you come undone.

i chose this cyclone with you.

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me.

you told lucy you'd kill yourself if i ever leave.

i felt seen.

everyone we know understands why it's meant to be. because we're crazy.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

here we go again.

you should've seen him when he first got me.

my boy only breaks his favorite toys.

i'm the queen of sand castles he destroys.

it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night.

i should have known it was a matter of time.

there was a litany of reasons why we could've played for keeps this time.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

pull the string, and i'll tell you that he runs because he loves me.

he saw forever so he smashed it up.

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me.

he was my best friend.

i felt more when we played pretend.

told me i'm better off. but i'm not.

tell me i was the chosen one.

showed me that this world is bigger than us, then sent me back where i came from.

for a moment i knew cosmic love.

now i'm down bad, crying at the gym.

everything comes out teenage petulance.

fuck it if i can't have him.

i might just die, it would make no difference.

fuck it if i can't have us.

i might just not get up.

i might stay down.

did you take all my old clothes?

that somehow seems so hollow now.

they'll say i'm nuts if i talk about the existence of you.

for a moment, i was heaven struck.

i loved your hostile take-overs.

how dare you say that it's-?

i'll build you a fort on some planet where they can all understand it.

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded?

fuck it, i was in love.

so fuck you, if i can't have us.

like i lost my twin.

i saw in my mind ferry lights through the mist.

i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift.

pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.

my spine split from carrying us up the hell.

i stopped trying to make him laugh.

how much sad did you think i had in me?

so long, london.

you'll find someone.

i didn't opt in to be your odd man out.

i founded the club she's heard great things about.

i left all i knew.

you left me at the house by the heath.

i stopped cpr. after all, it's no use.

the spirit was gone.

i'm pissed off you let me give all that youth for free.

i'll find someone.

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it.

my friends said it isn't right to be scared.

every breath feels like the rarest air when you're not sure if he wants to be there.

how much tragedy did you think i had in me?

how long did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode?

how long did you think i'd go before i'd have to go be free?

you swore you loved me, but where were the clues?

i died on the altar waiting for the proof.

you sacrificed us to the gods of your bluest days.

i'm just getting color back into my face.

i'm just mad 'cause i loved this place for so long.

had a good run, a moment of warm sun.

i'm not the one.

two graves, one gun.

[notoriousbeb]

TTPD Thoughts - The Manuscript (Pt. 1)

TTPD Notes Glossary

"Fortnight"  

Definitely written in the spring of 2023. I think the video was shot in the fall.  

The concept of treason/being a traitor comes up in reference to Harry in 1989 as well (“you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor”)  

In the music video, the typewriter Taylor is using is missing the 1 key (like the song “The 1”?) and she leaves several blank spaces in her writing of “I love you, it’s ruining my life” (perhaps a nod to the “Blank Space” song?)  

When Taylor and Post Malone are laying in the Taylor head silhouette it's a callback to the "Style" music video from the original 1989 era, where the Harry stand in guy is standing on a beach in a silhouette of Taylor's head.  

You know who is tattooed and kinda hot and thus a good Harry stand in a MV? Posty.  

I think she's envisioning a kind of nightmare future of being trapped in the metaphorical neighborhood that is their small industry and having to watch him move on while she continues to love him (ugh. thanks, it's beautiful and sounds awesome and i hate it).  

The last new album, "Midnights,” ends with "Hits Different,” on the line, "Is that your key in the door, down the hallway? Is that your key in the door, is it okay? Is it you? Or have they come to take me away? To take me away?" First line of Fortnight, the first song on TTPD? "I was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me.”  

A slight diversion into "Hits Different" and why I've always believed it's about Harry:  She's clubbing, so that narrows down the choices right away to either Harry or Calvin, but based on how she went right from Calvin to Tom to Joe and was definitely not heartbroken enough to be puking, but rather immediately enamored with someone else....We learn that, technically, she broke up with him ("curse the space that I needed") but she's devastated. Like "I broke my own heart, cuz you were too polite to do it?" This really seals it as 1989 Harry to me.  

“The Tortured Poets Department”  

Definitely written in the spring of 2023  

“Who else decodes you?” reminds me of how Harry called their back-and-forth song writing to/about each other (cue the “Fortnight” typewriter smoke battle) “the most amazing unspoken dialogue ever.”  

A “tattooed golden retriever?” I mean… come the fuck on. That’s a Harry descriptor if I’ve ever seen one.  

“You’re in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down on the road, but I’ve seen this episode and I still love the show.” “You awaken with dread pounding nails in your head. But I’ve read this one where you come undone." These aren’t the words of someone who merely wondered about what it would be like to be with a friend or acquaintance. These are two people who deeply know each other and have been together before.  

Also, Harry has documented anxiety that she’s also sung about it previously (“did you get anxious though, on the drive home?” - Now That We Don’t Talk)  

I hate and love the fact that they both told people they would kill themselves if it didn’t work out. I hate it, because that’s a terrible, dumb plan. But I love the passion. Also, who is Lucy? Was he taking to Lucy from Boygenius? That Lucy openly dislikes Matty on main, so I think it’s weird people are using her as a proof point that this song is about him. Did Taylor change that particular name here because it would have been a dead giveaway for this song being about Harry?  (Someone like, Ed, perhaps?)

“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys  

Probably written in spring 2023  

She refers to the muse as the “sickest (I believe this is a double meaning as in cool and also having mental illness issues) army doll purchased at the mall.”  

You ever seen a G.I. Joe under the fatigues? They don’t look like a pasty ex heroin addict. They do look like a certain former boy-bander from Manchester, though. Just saying.  

“Oh, here we go again,” “put me back on my shelf,” “we could’ve played for keeps this time,” “I knew too much/there was danger in the heat of my touch,” “he saw forever so he smashed it up.” Again, these are things you say about someone you’ve been with before, on and off, not someone you saw in concert twice and worked with once. You, especially, don’t see forever with someone after only 20 days.  

“But you should’ve seen him when he first got me.” We did see Matty. Was there someone else in the background who, perhaps, we did not see? Perhaps a certain curly haired former Boy Bander?

“‘Cause it fit too right/Puzzles pieces in the dead of night.” Hmm. Doesn’t sound like the mediocre sex described in “The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived” to me

Want to know what lines had me crying in the club on my sad girl walk? “Just say when—I’d play again. He was my best friend down at the sand lot.” Again, these are two people who know each other very well, and have for a long time.  

[sleepystede]

15 QUESTIONS FOR 15 FRIENDS

thank u thank u thank u to these absolutely sweeties who tagged me: @soupbtch @ofmd-ann @gentlebeardsbarngrill 💖

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? My mom was playing volleyball in the early days of her pregnancy and one of the opposing team member's name she loved so much, said she'd never heard it before, and named me it. I grew up in a small town and there were two other people with my name in my grade. Sad for me. However, I nicknamed myself as soon as I could talk and have never gone by my legal name (except professionally 🤪). Also I named myself after a bug sooooo who's the real winner here 🪲🪲🪲

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? This morning i listened to a podcast about community care and queer platonic love using bell hooks work as the foundational text and it made me cry happy tears of gratitude for the growth I've had in my own life. I do cry fairly easily, especially over beautiful things, the joys of being alive, that sorta thing.

DO YOU HAVE KIDS? No no. I have one precious adorable perfect nephew and he is everything I could ever desire.

WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED? I grew up playing soccer til I broke my nose and knocked all my front teeth out! I'm a big ping pong fan (I was the reigning champion two years in a row at math camp 🤓)

DO YOU USE SARCASM? sorry, who is she?

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? I love fun and unique hairstyles, tattoos, kind eyes

WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOR? Dark brown, when I was born, you couldn't distinguish my iris from the pupil because they were so dark. They've lightened a bit over the years.

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? Never been a scary movie fan, but a happy ending isn't what I seek, either. I love a good melancholic storyline and ending 🖤

ANY TALENTS? I'm a typebusker - I take my 1943 typewriter with me to events and write people poems on demand ✨️ I also love fiber arts of all kinds!

WHERE WERE YOU BORN? tiny lil farm that's been in my family for 7 generations

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES? DMing and playing DND, quilting, weaving, hiking, film photography, collaging, finding new ways to explore poetry and art, playing the banjolele

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? nah I grew up with a herd of dogs but I move around every few years and travel a lot, which has made having pets difficult over the last decade. I have loads of plants tho!

HOW TALL ARE YOU? 5'3 on a good day 👑

FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? three way tie between anything art related, creative writing, and physics (like how creative and dreamy is physics??? It was the only thing that challenged me and I even started to study it in undergrad!!)

DREAM JOB? I have a pretty dreamy job that's values-aligned, flexible, remote, creative, and fun! It's pretty high stress and I'm always working tho, so something less intensive that let's me travel more would be ideal 😎

no pressure tagging (sorry if you've already been tagged and I missed it!!): @edscuntyeyeshadow @1989edteach @edsbacktattoo @merryfinches @lovely-letters-for-ed @saltpepperbeard @sherlockig @bizarrelittlemew @sweet-little-goldfish-stede @sonnetforbonnet

[earlgreytea68]

I'm going to descend into Fall Out Boy stuff for probably a while but before I do, I just wanted to put down some musings on AI. Sorry.

You, like me, are probably already sick to death of talking about AI. In my field, it feels like the only thing people want to talk about, not only because I'm a teacher but because I'm also an intellectual property lawyer focused on the technology space, so it's just endlesssssssss.

First I should say that I've been so far completely underwhelmed by AI. Like, yeah, sure, I get that it's amazing and I'm probably spoiled by tech wizardry or whatever but if AI is so great I think all the algorithms in my life should be better at recommending things to me (I gather TikTok has the best at that but I'm not on TikTok). Westlaw's AI is so incredibly terrible that the database has gone downhill ever since they tried to make me pivot that way and I'm constantly being like, PLEASE GIVE ME THE OLD WESTLAW INTERFACE WHERE I USED MY OWN ACTUAL BRAIN AND GOT THE THINGS I WANTED EFFICIENTLY WITHOUT ROBOT INTERFERENCE.

I tried out ChatGPT because I wanted to know what the fuss was and I put one of my old exam questions in and it gave me four sentences in response, one of which was just a flat-out wrong statement of law, and considering I would have expected around a thousand-word analysis of that exam question, four basic and only half-right sentences was just not super-impressive to me.

But I gather that it's getting better all the time and that the harder you work on what you ask it for and keep refining your prompt then the better the output is, or whatever. I also gather that asking it for text output is probably super-different than asking it for visual output.

I'm talking about this now because I went to this symposium and there were panels on AI and honestly, the more I hear *tech* people specifically talk about AI, the more I want to light myself on fire. Like, one of the topics was whether the AI using everyone else's copyrighted works as input without the creators' permission was copyright infringement. The tech people were like, "No, not at all, because the output doesn't actually use their work, it's just training the machine, it's just an algorithm." But then the tech people in the next panel were like, "But of course we should get to own all of the output of the AI because it's using human creativity." And I'm like, ...this feels contradictory to me? Like having your cake and eating it, too? It can't NOT be infringement because it's all machinery but also you get to own all the output because it's not just machinery.

Like, sometimes I think if AI were really just about, Idk, algorithms helping us out, we wouldn't have to talk about it in IP symposiums. The reason we're talking about it is because OBVIOUSLY people are going to start claiming ownership over the things AI creates and so we're going to end up in a world where humans (corporations) own what humans create AND they own what machines create and all of that is so much more stuff owned than ever before and I don't think any IP scholar looked around and thought that the problem with our creative landscape is "not enough stuff is owned."

Setting aside my views on ownership, though, I've been trying not to be a kneejerk crotchety old person about AI. The tech people at the symposium kept saying it was just a tool that people would use to aid them, like a typewriter or PhotoShop or whatever, and that people always freak out about new tools possibly killing human creativity, and that doesn't turn out to be the case. So I keep trying to keep an open mind. Maybe I'll really like writing with AI! Maybe it will be awesome! But I can't shake the fact that I don't even like Word to suggest autocompletes to me when I'm writing a fic, because I feel like it's putting ideas in my head about where the story or sentence or dialogue is going that isn't what I intended. I especially hate that little thing on the side that tells you that your document is "54% good" or whatever and then wants to edit you to within an inch of your life. All of it makes me think that maybe it's a great tool for writing a cover letter or a resume but I don't want it going through my fics telling me to take out the run-on sentences that I have intentionally added to suit the mood of the character. Like, those aren't accidents. I know how to write sensible sentences, I do it all the time for work. Not everything should sound like work. "The next generation of content creators are all going to use AI," this tech person confidently stated, and I thought, Well, I'm going to get left behind obviously because I cannot imagine using AI to write my fics, OR in a few years I WILL be using AI to write my fics and thinking how silly it was that everything in the fic used to come straight from my own brain.

I get that their argument is that the AI isn't going to write the fic for me, it's just going to help me, the way spellcheck helps me. After all, what they say is that it's not going to supplant the market for artists, that there will always be demand for human creativity. But they say this while simultaneously admitting that the movie studios have already begun to use AI-generated scripts and scores and even actors. "So far," the movie studio reps announced, these are not as good as human-generated ones. But it's pretty clear to me that they think they eventually will definitely be good enough for them to cut the humans out of the equation. And anyone who thinks, "no, no, that won't happen, employers totally value human labor," has apparently never had a job, because employers definitely do not value human labor lol. And sure, I'm sure there will always be creators who will be able to get paid but these will be the big-deal creators with the connections, and it's not like we don't already have income inequality in the creative space and people's ideas being stolen when they have no power because of this inequality. I'm sure that problem won't be massively exacerbated when a corporation can see someone's work they like, feed it into AI, and have what they want produced in that person's style with zero effort or money paid.

The tech people talk about AI with so much hope, and I want to be on board, I want to hope for good stuff. I think it sounds like it could help people with the things they find difficult and challenging, that, for people to whom writing doesn't come easily, it would be a huge help to shape their sentences. For people to whom art doesn't come easily, it would be a huge help to give them a template. I want that to be how I think about AI. It *should* be a great tool for this stuff.

But then I think about how the problem with every tool is the humans using it. That tools are always relatively neutral and benign, it's the humans who use them for ill. That it was a straight line of less than two decades to go from "here's a great way to connect with friends and family!" to "here's how we turn the world's leading democracy into a fascist dictatorship." And yet tech people still talk about having hope. I want to live in their world. But I can't help but live in this world, where I look at all this "promise" of AI and I think, Great. So great we came up with this so we can do something absolutely nightmarish with it in the next few years.

Sigh.

[fea-resources]

Best SAO Abridged Lines As RP Starters Pt.1

"I am going to burn this fucker to the ground."

"I have a feeling you get beat up a lot."

“Fuck you, man, that’s like the pig from Hell!”

“The legacy of the pebble lives on.”

“Well, thanks for the quick tutorial on pig slaying, and the not-so-quick tutorial on... rocks.”

"Come on, I can't alt+F4 this shit!"

“...And the sky is bleeding.”

“Well Ballsy, I believe the locals call it a... hex...a...gon? Not sure if I’m pronouncing that right I’ll have to get back to you.”

"Man, they're really working for that M rating."

"Much like the World of Warcraft, you're not here by choice anymore. Unlike WoW however, you're being held here by me, not by the need to escape your empty fucking life."

"Sometimes things are born. They live... and then they stop. Forever."

"Yeah I'm just gonna keep that tabbed."

"As... tempting as that sounds, I really should stick with my friends back there. They're about as skilled as I am so I figure we have a better chance of surviving if we stick together."

"Well, monkeys and typewriters..."

"You might be the most unbearable asshole I've ever met, but you are really good at this. We could use you in our group, what do you say?"

"So many poor souls came to an abrupt and tragic end... some, by bad luck, others by sheer stupidity. I mean really, why would you just stand in fire?"

"Oh wow, what brilliant insight. That's so deep it loops right back around to being stupid."

"Its all bullshit metaphors with you."

"He cried... not knowing the difference between a simile and a metaphor."

"The tininess of his brain dwarfed only by the tininess of his di--"

"You can silence me but you can't silence the truth!"

"Oh jeez I am just making things worse."

"Pssht. Evidence... I don't need no evidence. Isn't that right _____?"

"Its pronounced ______, and... I don't know you."

"______, huh? That's a... pretty masculine name."

"Shouldn't be. Its a woman's name."

"...'kay, I dunno how to talk to you."

"Good, then you can shut up and listen."

"Good rule of thumb: if someone asks for money two seconds after meeting you, front lines. If they hijack conversations to rant about their political views, front lines. If they ask women to see pics of their boobs, front lines."

"Jesus, who wrote this thing?"

"Okay, so the guide's a bust, but it'll be fine! I'll come up with a great plan for us!"

"Well, we could--.... uhh... I'm open to suggestions!"

"We could group up, and hit it til it dies!"

"Fuck it, group up."

“What, a whole month? How have you survived this long?”

"HOW DO I EAT YOU?"

“It’s been...a challenge.”

"Oh I have lots of reasons for not grouping up. Mostly because they're a bunch of mouth-breathing neck-beards who think L M A O is how french people laugh."

“You sure have a way of... eh... speaking from the heart?”

"Funny, I thought I was speaking from my mouth, but shows what I know about biology."

"No one else wanted you in their group, did they?"

"Shut up, it was mutual!"

"Fine, we leave at the crack of... 2:30... I guess."

"Okay, so... apparently there were a few more stairs than we realized."

"Jesus... why don't you just take a cheetos and mountain dew break and we'll reconvene in an hour."

"Damn it I was kidding! You weren't actually supposed to actually take an hour!"

"Stop attacking from the front! Do you even know what 'Flank' means?!"

"For fuck's sake, stop playing Bejeweled!"

"Alright, this last part's going to take careful coordination... which is why I'm just gonna do it myself!"

"While both are primarily slashing weapons, a Talwar was favored by cavalrymen, as opposed to an Odachi which was mainly used for dick measuring."

"And why couldn't you say that first?"

"I like to think of myself as a teacher."

"Our best player is a girl who thinks DPS is some kind of sex thing."

"I've been doing this a long time, and if there's one thing I learned, its that lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep. Just take that little voice in the back of your head that tells you to be tactful and understanding, and shoot it. Shoot it in the god damn face."

"Here's what we'll do. One counters his blows to knock him off balance, and the other switches in to attack. Rinse, repeat, victory."

"You came up with that but you can't open a menu..."

"Congratulations! That was even more impressive than that cat that learned to play."

"Oh my god, you guys can see it too?! So I'm not crazy!

“Isn't that right _____?"

"That's right ______! Now... kill them all."

"As you command my lord."

"We have traveled far, and up many stairs to get to this point, fighting side by side, noobs and elites alike. I'd like to take a moment to say I couldn't have done it without the help of each and every one of you... of course I'm not a liar, so I'm not gonna say any of that."

"I mean to be honest I could have done this whole thing myself, BUT, to be fair, I guess you DID absorb a bit of damage for me, which was nice."

"You were an adequate meat shield, and no one can ever take that away from you."

"Fuck... fuck! Shut up! Shut up!"

"Shoot for the stars! It'll make it more fun for me when I kick you back into the dirt."

"You're not better than us!"

"My sweet ass coat begs to differ."

"No, its not fabric I can cut, its a bunch of 1's and 0's."

"Fine, then give me the 1's."

"Fuck you I want the 1's."

[penroseparticle]

Penrose Song of the Day Day 41: Feel Good by Gibbz ft. Russ Liquid

I'm having trouble writing because I'm having trouble deciding what's worth saying. What is there to say that hasn't been said already. I'm but one monkey with a typewriter, cut me some slack.

I've been thinking about taste, and recommendations, and what the music we like says about us. I've been thinking about arrogance, and cruelty, and a little bit about No True Scotsman fallacies, too. I just. I don't know. What is "good" music and why are so many people fans of "bad" music.

I don't think bad music even exists, at least not really. I think music like any medium has so many competing and often contradictory delivery methods, goals, audiences, and interpretations that a categorical verdict like that is, frankly, Quixotic. I think about things like Throbbing Gristle and Clown Core, like Taylor Swift and Imagine Dragons, like Jungkook and 21 Savage and JVKE and Drake and AJR and all of the people who would say you're not listening to "real music" or "good music". There's a pity that's normalized with the superiority of your music tastes.

On the other hand, the more you learn and deeper you dive into anything, the more repetition you hear. The more you see things as hackneyed or trite. You've seen it before, heard it before, etc. You learn when someone was stolen from, when an artist is just rehashing something or taking from an entire genre/subculture that they weren't part of. Wider eyes see the ugly truths right?

I don't know. It's tough. I wonder if there's an answer that's satisfactory.

I saw Gibbz live, actually. Back in... 2017? I was seeing... I think A SIlent Film? With my good friend Katie. This was back when she would suggest we go see a band and I would just say yes. I think Gibbz opened. I don't remember. Shout Out Rock and Roll Hotel, I miss that venue.

Gibbz wasn't what I was expecting. A little smooth, a little mischievous. Like a wink between good friends. Electronic but soulful. A Silent Film was more classic, traditional rock. Gibbz was one guy at the front with a synth and a crooner's deathgrip on the microphone.

I went up and spoke to him after his set. It was a small venue, he was an opening artist, I just told him I loved his stuff and I really loved I Really Love You (which is still my favorite Gibbz song, for the record). He was kind. He said thanks, and how it was humbling to be playing live. It was a nice interaction.

I think, given the time and money to do so, I want to get back to doing this. Just going to shows blind, of artists I've never heard of, in genre's I've never imagined.

What does all this have to do with taste. I meander, I know. I'll bring it back.

I think I have pretty basic, milquetoast tastes. I like pretty average music. I have a passing interest in things with more obscurity- I like melodic forms of metal, I keep a finger on the pulse of industrial for Lauren. I'm finding myself drawn more to house, classical, and jazz. I like Math Rock.

But cards on the table, my favorite type of music with a bullet is Hot Pop Girlies Having Fun (tm). The Sabrina Carpenters. The Dua Lipas. My second favorite type of music is apparently Men Being Sad (the Hoziers of the world). I don't think that's ever going to change. And I'm trying to be more ok with that. I'm trying to stop letting audience or surveilance or observation change what I like and what I enjoy. I'm trying to unlearn shame.

I don't know. I just want to listen to something I love. You know?

I've stopped sharing music with a lot of people in my life (I'm aware of the irony of having that rumination on this kind of post, thanks). There's like 3 people I share music with IRL and I basically only listen to music with headphones these days. I want to make music one day but I'm struggling to see what the point is. I gotta remember the effusive joy that comes from creation, but I also need to remember, somehow, some way, that sharing music is good, actually.

Anyways, enjoy this song. I hope you feel how this song feels, at least to me. Chill, soulful, grateful to be alive, and above all, I hope that you feel good.

You could be dead right now. Go listen to something you love.

[ofaflower]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 - 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓

The following are lyric based starters from Taylor Swift's eleventh studio album, The Tortured Poets Department (Standard Version). Mature subjects implied within, so please use with caution. Feel free to change pronoun usage as needed. Minor edits may appear to sound more natural for dialogue. Link to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘.

FORTNIGHT (FT. POST MALONE)

i was supposed to be sent away, but they forgot to come and get me

i was a functioning alcoholic

nobody noticed my new aesthetic

all of this to say, i hope you're okay

you're the reason

no one here's to blame

what about your quiet treason?

we were forever

your wife waters flowers

i wanna kill her

i took the miracle move on drug, the effects were temporary

i love you, it's ruining my life

my husband is cheating, i wanna kill him

it won't start up

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

you left your typewriter at my apartment

straight from the tortured poets department

who uses typewriters anyway?

you're in self sabotage mode

i've seen this episode, still i love the show

who else decodes you?

who's gonna hold you like me?

who's gonna know you, if not me?

you're not dylan thomas, i'm not patti smith

this ain't the chelsea hotel

we're modern idiots

nobody, no fucking body

i chose this cyclone with you

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me

you told lucy you'd kill yourself if i ever leave

i felt seen

everyone we know understands why we're meant to be - cause we're crazy

you took my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on - and that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVOURITE TOYS

oh, here we go again...

the voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild

you should've seen him when he first got me

my boy only breaks his favourite toys

i'm queen of sandcastles he destroys

i should've known it was a matter of time

there was a litany of reasons why we could've played for keeps this time

i know i'm just repeating myself

he runs because he loves me

once i fix me, he's gonna miss me

just say when, i'd play again

you were my best friend

you told me i'm better off, but i'm not

DOWN BAD

did you really beam me up, in a cloud of sparkling dust, just to do experiments on?

you told me i was the chosen one

you showed me this world was bigger than us, then sent me back where i came from

for a moment, i new cosmic love

fuck it if i can't have him

i might just die, it would make no difference

come back and pick me up

fuck it if i can't have us

i might just not get up, i might stay down bad

did you take all my old clothes?

my same old town, somehow feels so hollow now

they'll say i'm nuts if i talk about the existence of you

for a moment i was heaven struck

i loved your hostile takeovers

how can you say that it's over?

how dare you think it's romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

fuck it, i was in love

fuck you if i can't have us

SO LONG, LONDON

so long, london

i saw, in my mind, fairy lights through the mist

i kept calm and carried the weight of the rift

i pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away

i stopped trying to make you laugh

how much sad did you think i had in me?

oh, the tragedy

you'll find someone

i didn't opt in to be your odd man out

i founded the club you've heard great things about

i left all i knew, then you left me at the house by the heath

i stopped cpr, after all it's no use

i'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free

i'll find someone

you say i abandoned the ship, but i was going down with it with my white knuckle iron grip holding tight to your quiet resentment

it isn't right to be scared everyday of a love affair

every breath feels like rarest air when you're unsure if he wants to be there

just how long did you think i'd go before i self-implode and have to go free?

you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?

i died on the alter waiting

you sacrificed us to the blue of your darkest days

i'm just getting colour back into my face

i'm just mad as hell cause i loved this place for so long

we had a good run

a moment of sun

i'm not the one

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM

i forget how the west was won

i forget if this was ever fun

i just learned these people only raise you to cage you

what a mess

these people try and "save you", cause they hate you

they slammed the door on my whole world and the one thing i wanted

but daddy i love him

i'm having his baby - no i'm not, but you should see your faces

i'm having his baby

floor it through the fences

no, i'm not "coming to my senses"

i know he's crazy but he's the one i want

all my plans were laid

growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all

stay away from her

i'll tell you something right now, i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning

let me tell you about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace

i dont' cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing

god save the most judgmental creeps

you ain't gotta pray for me

fuck 'em - it's over

time, doesn't it give some perspective?

no, you can't come to the wedding

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

now pretty baby, i'm running back home to you

fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to

he don't understand me

you were with me in dreams

it's gonna be alright, i did my time

i was handcuffed to the spell i was under

now i know better and i'll never lose my baby again

all those nights, you kept me going

you weaved me into all of your poems

no matter what i've done - it wouldn't matter away

ain't no way i'm gonna screw up now that i know what's at stake here

FLORIDA!!! (FEAT. FLORENCE + THE MACHINE)

you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too

they said i was cheat, so i guess it must be true

my friends all smell like weed or little babies

the city reeks of driving myself crazy

little did you know, your home's really only a town you're just a guest in

packed my life away just stay in a timeshare down in destin, florida

florida is one hell of a drug

florida will use you up

i got drunk and dared it wash me away

me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time

yes, i'm haunted but i'm feeling just fine

all of my girls have got their lace and their crimes

your cheating husband disappeared?

well, no one asks any questions here

i did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that'd ever been on my body where in my mind they sink into the swamp

is that a bad thing to say in a song?

i need to forget

take me to florida

i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida

tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable

at least the dolls were beautiful

fuck me up, florida

GUILTY AS SIN?

he sent me "downtown lights", i hadn't heard it in a while

my boredom's bone deep

this cage was once just fine

am i allowed to cry?

i dream of cracking locks and throwing my life to the wolves - or the ocean rocks

i'm seeing visions

am i bad or mad or wise?

what if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh, only in my mind?

oh, what a way to die

i keep recalling things we never did

how i long for our tryst

without ever touching your skin, how can i be guilty as sin?

i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault

someone told me: there's no such thing as bad thoughts - only your actions talk

we've already done it in my head

if it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?

my bedsheets were ablaze, i screamed your name

what if i roll the stone away?

they're gonna crucify me anyway?

what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?

if long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don't know how you've haunted me so suddenly

i choose you and me, religiously

WHO'S AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME?

the who's who of "who's that?" - is poised for the attack

my bare hands paved their path

you don't get to tell me about sad

if you wanted me dead, you should've just said

nothing makes me feel more alive

she'll leap from the gallows and levitate down our street

who's afraid of little old me?

the scandal was contained

the bullet had just grazed

at all costs, keep your good name

you don't get to tell me you feel bad

is it a wonder i broke? let's hear one more joke then we can all just laugh until i cry

i was tame, i was gentle til the circus life made me mean

don't you worry folks, we took out all her teeth

who's afraid of little old me? you should be

so tell me everything is not about me - but what if it is?

they say they didn't do it to hurt me - but what if they did?

i wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

all your kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs

i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all say?

i'll sue you if you step on my lawn

i'm fearsome, and i'm wretched, and i'm wrong

i put narcotics into all of my songs, that's why you're still singing along

you lured me, you caged me, and you taught me

you caged me then called me crazy

i am what i am cause you trained me

who's afraid of me?

I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY, I CAN)

the jokes he told across the bar were revolting and way too loud

god help her

he's my man

but your good lord doesn't need to lift a finger

i can i fix him, no really - i can

the dopamine raced through his brain on a six-lane texas highway

i could see it from a mile away

you're a perfect case for my certain skill set

he had a halo of the highest grade

he just hadn't met me yet

i can fix him

only i can

good boy, that's right - come close

i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night

trust me, i can handle me a dangerous man

whoa, maybe i can't...

loml

who's gonna stop us from falling back into rekindled flames if we know the steps anyway?

we embroidered memories of my time away, stitching "we were just kids babe"

i don't mind, it takes time

thought that i was better safe than starry-eyed

i felt aglow like this - never before and never since

if you know it in one glimpses, it's legendary

you and i went from one kiss to getting married

you low down boy, you stand up guy

you told me i'm the love of your life about a million times

who's gonna tell me the truth when you blew in with the winds of fate, saying i had reformed you?

your impressionist paintings of us turned out to be fakes

well, you dragged me to hell too

a con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme

i felt a hole, like this - never before and ever since

what we thought was for all time, was temporary

mister "steal your girl, and make her cry"

you said i'm the love of your life

you shit talked me under tables, talking rings and talking cradles

i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all

are they second-hand embarrassed?

i can't get out of bed cause something counterfeit's dead

it was legendary

it was momentary

it was unnecessary

should've let us stay buried

what a valiant roar

what a bland goodbye

the coward claimed he was a lion

i'll never leave

never mind

i'll still see it til i die

you're the loss of my life

I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

i can read your mind

she's having the time of her life

in her glittering prime the light refracts sequin stars off her silhouette every night

i can show you lies

i'm a real tough kid

i can handle my shit

they said "fake it til you make it", and i did

lights, camera, bitch, smile - even when you wanna die

he said he'd love me all his life - but that life was quite short

all the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting more

i can do it with a broken heart

i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday everyday

i'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague

i cry alot, but i am so productive - it's an art

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

i can hold my breath, i've been doing it since you left

i'm sure i can pass this test

he said he'd love me for all time but that time was quite short

i'm miserable and nobody even knows!

THE SMALLEST MAN WHO EVER LIVED

was any of it true?

gazing at me starry-eyed in your jehovah's witness suit, who the fuck was that guy?

he tried to buy some pills from a friend of friends of mine

they just ghosted you, now you know what it feels like

i don't even want you back, i just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal?

i don't miss what we had but could someone give a message to the smallest man who ever lived?

you hung me on your wall, stacked me with your push pins where in public you showed me off - then sank to stoned oblivion

once your queen had come, you treat her like an also-ran

you didn't measure up in any measure of a man

were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

were you writing a book?

were you a sleeper cell spy?

in fifty years, will all this be declassified and you'll confess why you did it

good riddance

it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden

i would have died for your sins, instead i just died inside

you deserve prison but you won't get time

you'll slide into inboxes and slip through the bars

you crashed my party and your rental car

you said normal girls were boring, but you were gone by the morning

in plain sight you hid

you are what you did

i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

THE ALCHEMY

this happens once every few lifetimes

what if i told you i'm back?

the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that i ever had

i haven't come around in so long, but i'm coming back so strong

so when i touch down, call the amateurs and cut them from the team

ditch the clowns, get the crown

baby, i'm the one to beat

the sign on your heart says it's still reserved for me

honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

hey you, what if i told you we're cool? that child's play back in school is forgiven under my rule

i'm making a comeback to where i belong

these blokes warm the benches

we've been on a winning streak

he jokes that it's "heroin", but this time with an "E"

there's no chance try to beat the greatest in the league?

where's the trophy?

CLARA BOW

you look like clara bow in this light, remarkable

all your life, did you know you'd be picked, like a rose?

i'm not trying to exaggerate - but i think i might die if it happened to me

no one in my small town thought i'd see the lights of manhattan

this town is fake, but you're the real thing

a breath of fresh air through smoke rings

take the glory

give everything

promise to be dazzling

you look like stevie nicks in '75, the hair and lips

the crowd goes wild at your fingertips

i think i might if i made it

no one in my small town thought i'd meet these suits in L.A.

beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours demanding more

only when your girlish glow flickers just so, do they let you know

it's hell on earth to be heavenly

them's the breaks they don't come gently

you look like taylor swift in this light, we're loving it

you've got edge, she never did

the future's bright

dazzling

[prahacat]

What was the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote?

Thank you so much, dear Wibz, for the ask and for dragging me back to tumblr <3 I'm not sure if you meant the first fanfic I've ever written in my entire life or if we're talking about Star Wars only, so I'll answer both.

The plot of the first fanfic I've ever written in my life: no idea. I remember my mother copying my Disney "fanfic" with a typewriter when I was like, maybe, seven? As for the first fic I ever shared online, it was for a superhero cartoon I used to be totally obsessed with. It was a one-shot, narrated from the perspective of a teenage character. To be honest, there wasn't much of a plot. The pov character had lost his older brother and was coping with his grief by isolating himself from his team, reading Shakespeare and acting bratty. I had crafted this complex backstory that slowly unraveled through dialogue, but a lot of it remained vague, and of course the fic had an open ending. Looking back, it's kinda funny how this old story already had a lot of my signature elements. Sadly, it seems like I decided to delete it at some point, because I can no longer find it online.

The plot of my first Star Wars fanfic: it was a modern AU with a healthy dose of meta. In this version, the disaster lineage was an actual family. Obi-Wan and Anakin were brothers who had grown up in a small house with their quirky, cult-like family that was obsessed with make-believe, storytelling, lies and half-truths. The fic was about how Obi-Wan and Anakin, now adults, come to terms with their past and slowly reconcile with everything that happened. I have tons of lore for this AU, down to detailed floor plans and interior designs for every room in their old family house. The fic also featured Leia and Luke as adorable smartasses, hippie Qui-Gon with his veggie garden, a cute cameo by baker!Ventress and, of course, the unintentional comedy gold that is Grandpa Dooku. It's definitely a bit of a weird fic, but I still love it to this day.