#instead i spent two days thinking about bad lyrics

[screechingfromthevoid]

Dorian with the crown keepers in some quiet taverns in quiet towns as they travel, he's always up late. He can't quite fall asleep well. So he sneaks out to a different tavern than the one they're staying at. He doesn't want to risk someone recognizing him in the morning.

At the new taverns, he goes straight to their stages. The emptier the better but it's not hard for him to convince a half drunk bard to get even drunker.

Sometimes he'd sit on the poorly lit stage and strum his mandolin and not say a word at all as he started to pluck out a tune. The chords are simple at first, something he heard in a dream. Every night spent working, adds another measure. Deeper swells and higher jumps. A mournful reverberation. He was stuck for a while.

Until he hears "glad you're not here... wish you were anyways".

Then, disjointed and seemingly unexpected, a reprise of that first plucking, an octave and a half lower. Still major, still jovial. Just. Deeper. Just... Realer.

I'll fix the transition later, he thought.

That's when the lyrics came. They weren't good but they spilled out of his mouth involuntarily. If it were up to him, those thoughts, those feelings would stay caged in his heart. Instead, a room full of strangers knew him more fully than his intimates.

Protector of air, guard of heart, bulwark of us

His simple plucked out tune, a dreamed up melody for a man he could only dream of.

You say you don't lead. But when I look to you, you're drenched in the boreal crux

A deep and quiet start to the encroaching swell, getting louder and higher.

Crowns of spiders couldn't tempt me astray from your due north

Trilled eight notes that felt like crawling legs and whispy silk on the back of the neck.

I thought you might be the wind caught in my sails. Always only you caught in my fibers

His last word carries a sour note, it sounded wrong, out of tune. Like he was.

A storm by another name, gold and red and melting black, tore us off course

Dorian's run was backwards, like he was free falling from a ledge. Accidentals plaguing it's decent.

It's harder than ever to orient through shades of grey and leave behind no remorse...

That reverberation was accompanied by a strain in his voice. Something that happened every night once he made it to that point. It came next to a swallow of something in his throat. That transition came to him, when Dorian thought about what got him out of his slump, he laughed. Bashfully, sheepishly. He always felt his face burn.

My heart aches. Stay steadfast. Fairer winds...

What a thing to say instead of I miss you.

I have stolen a world away. You are there, I am here. And all I want is to be together when we wake

His melody, their melody, picked up again. His fingers started to pluck staccatos in between the languid chords.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or so they say. This distance has only made mine bleed icar

Dorian wouldn't allow himself to end this with a confession. At least, not one of guilt. It wasn't supposed to be about his straying. It was supposed to be about Orym. It was supposed to be about the man he-

I look for the direction ivy green grows. I look to you still, to find my way.

Sometimes he ended the song with another reprise of his dreamy melody. Sometimes, his fingers would slip on the strings and rancid mistakes would ring out into the crowd. It seemed to depend on how hard they fought that day. How much more Opal stained.

Dorian would always thanked the crowd before taking up the coins that were haphazardly thrown on stage. He wouldn't set out a hat or cup, it wasn't about that, but there was always coin at his feet by the end.

He'd walk quiet streets and thought about Bertrand. Dorian understood now, what he said about walking alone at night. He stepped carefully up lulling tavern stairs thinking about picking up a bottle for a round of "what the fuck is up with that" with friend that weren't waiting for him. He slid into the room he shared with his brother, acknowledging every time that this was the first time they did that. They never shared a room or a bed as children. They didn't share much. Now fully grown, he felt they were more childish than ever.

Dorian curled into himself on his cold side of the bed and thought about how he used to have a pulsing heart beat on his skin. Whether it was across his legs, against his back, against his chest. He never felt loneliness like this before. He never felt the absence of someone before.

And he was worse for it

[iluvangel]

🖇·˚ ༘ ┊͙[Cleaning with the Akatsuki] ! ˊˎ PT 2

{Akatsuki x reader}

FT - HIDAN, KONAN, OBITO

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑯𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑵🩸:

⭑ wouldn’t like to clean for shit (he would secretly love sweeping) “im an immortal god why would I want to clean?” If you ask enough of course he’d help you but it would be you doing majority of the work

⭑ out of everything he doesn’t like about cleaning, he would hate doing the dishes. No matter how much you ask he would refuse

⭑ it wouldn’t be a bad habit per say he would just always try to convince you that the cleaning can be done a different day and time would be better spent doing something else together

⭑ if this man were real he would LOVE slipknot. Music would be the only thing that keeps him “cleaning” his loud singing would last up till the last minute of each song. He would allow you to play your music if you ask but he would be the type to take your phone and skip through all the songs till he finds one that peaks his interest

⭑ after he finishes with his half ass part of the cleaning whether your done or not he would rip you out of the room the two of you are in and practically throw you onto the bed “im ready for a nap that wore me out” (he was “cleaning” for like 10 minutes)

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑲𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑵 🗒️ :

⭑ she wouldn’t mind cleaning but she would never initiate it. Her favorite thing to would be the yard, whether is summer, or the middle of winter. She would enjoy raking leafs, pulling weeds, or even shoveling snow. But yard work in the summer would be her favorite

⭑ she would hate taking out the trash, the smell of it and the warmth and smell of the garbage outside would gross her out

⭑ her bad habit would be watching all of the insects move around, she would watch every butterfly land and leave, along with the ladybugs. She would watch all of the ants and spiders come up from under the dirt

⭑ she would enjoy music in the background, she wouldn’t need it but it’s nice to have it. She would enjoy listening to you hum and sing the lyrics so she would try her best to join along even when she doesn’t know the song

⭑ “let’s go for a walk” even if you both are sweaty to the point your shining like a diamond, she would always insist on going on a walk after. It wouldn’t have to be a long one, just a simple back and forth. When you both return “I’ll run some cold water for a bath, then we should make food and read”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

𝑶𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑶 🎭 :

⭑ would love doing Laundry, the warmth of them when there fresh from the dryer would be one of his favorite feelings

⭑ he wouldn’t like any other part of cleaning tho. He wouldn’t like the feeling of anything touching his hands (like when ur washing dishes and there’s something oily he would hate it)

⭑ his bad habit would be dozing while folding the fresh clothes

⭑ I don’t think he would mind listening to music while doing laundry but I think he would prefer to watch movies/shows they would keep him more entertained and it would most likely help him stay sitting instead of getting up and wandering off to do other random things

⭑ he would always insist you both go cuddle in bed together after everything is put away. Since the warmth of the clothes is no longer there he wants something else, thus you, him, a blanket, and whatever movie you two want to watch

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Click here for 🎀part 1🎀

[nthspecialll]

We have all seen the edits and drawings of Dutch with "I'm your man" by Mitiski, more specifically with the lyrics "you believe me like a god, I betray you like a man," but it is not just those lyrics that fits Dutch and practically the entirety of the gang.

(Warning I am not a huge Mitiski fan so I will just take the lyrics as they are without any deeper meaning and compare them to red dead to give them a deeper meaning)

While the whole "you believe me like a god" might make it sound like the "me" also sees themselves as a god as well or at least superior to the other party, that is not the case.

"You're an angel, I'm a dog

Or you're a dog and I'm your man."

This part hints at confusion between standing of the two parties. The "I" isn't sure about what their position is with the other party, either the "you" is an angel and themselves a dog, someone lesser, something lesser, or the "I" is a man and the "you" a dog. The "I" never put themselves as something eternal, they never claim to be unworldly or godly, instead they willingly put themselves underneath the "you" and only above them in the same way a man would an animal, a dynamic that while it might hold love also is clear on who is in control.

Dutch and Arthur's dynamic is constantly changing. On one hand, Arthur is a workhorse, the one Dutch sends our for his dirty work, the one Dutch knows he can control and make him do anything, on the other hand we have their family dynamic of Dutch saying that Arthur means more to him than what a son would and acting as if he is the best thing ever.

"You believe me like a god

I'll destroy you like I am."

While the "I" never sees themselves superior, the "you" puts the "I" on a pedestal, making them their god and the "I" takes advantage of that and destroys the "you." This is similar to Dutch and Arthur. Dutch was not a good man ever, while he and the others did do their Robinhood act, they were never good men, they killed, they robbed and they ruined, but Arthur saw Dutch as a god or a father more than a mere mentor and Dutch ruined Arthur for that in the end.

"I'm sorry I'm the one you love

No one will ever love me like you again."

The "I" knows they are bad, they know they are ruining the other and they know that they will never get the loyalty that the "you" gave them again. While this might not seem like Dutch and Arthur, it very much is in the end.

Dutch in the end when Arthur is dying seems angry, frustrated and conflicted, because while he is seeing his son dying, he knows there is something he does not know. While he feels angry that Arthur did what he did, he never did think Arthur was a "betrayer", he thought John was, he thought John was talking to the Pinkertons and had convinced Arthur that Dutch was bad. He felt sad that Arthur was dying because of John and his manipulation and he knows he will never find the loyalty Arthur gave him again from anyone, and he is right, even in 1911, he has yet to find someone like Arthur.

"So when you leave me, I should die

I deserve it, don't I?"

I am of the firm belief that Dutch spent a long while alone after Arthur's death because the newspapers while talking of him, do not mention another gang, only the old one, and in red dead one they speak as if Dutch's gang is fairly new which would also explain why the Agents were suddenly able to locate him, because he became active again.

This could be to lay low, or it could be because he was thinking over what he had done and what had happened, and considering how much Arthur meant to him it wouldnt be strange to say he might have spent some years in self hatred or pity.

"I can feel it gettin' near

Like flashlights comin' down the way

One day you'll figure me out

I'll meet judgment by the hounds."

This is where it gets a bit more tricky because I believe the "you" changes here, where "you" were Arthur before, it can now be seen as John.

In 1911 John is hunting down Javier and Bill, something Dutch no doubt knew and heard about, while he might have hoped to be able to defeat John, he would have known that John would come for him and he would be able to "see him come near" as he kills off the two others. Dutch knows one day John will be his end, one day John will figure him out and he will have to face the consequences of his actions.

"People always gave me love

Others were never to blame after all."

This is quite obvious how it comes to Dutch, they gave Dutch everything, they gave him their lives to lay if he so wish and in the end it was not their fault that the gang split up. No it was not Micah's fault, while Micah did manipulate, he never forced Dutch's hand, even without Micah Dutch would have lost himself down the road, it was in the end Dutch's fault.

"You believe me like a god

I'll betray you like a man."

John loved Dutch, maybe even more than Arthur, after all John is often seen as Dutch's son while Arthur is seen as Hosea's, not just by the fandom but the characters as well. We see characters call John Dutch's golden boy and his pet. It was also Arthur who had to convince John and truly let him see what Dutch was doing, to let him know that the concerns he had were true.

Dutch removed the noose from John's neck when John was twelve, saving him like a miracle, yet Dutch shot at John in the end like he was no one special, just another man to be put in the ground.

[cantcompetewhereudontcompare]

A complete deconstruction: Louis Tomlinson is a terrible songwriter. Part III

So, we arrived at the last part.

Part I was a deconstruction of this idea that Louis wrote "most 1D songs" and "all the bangers." In part II we talked about how little involvement he had in terms of instrumentation, vocal engineering, melodies, etc, of his own albums. How he got given several songs that were already written, and of the other ones, they mostly came together from a melody someone else wrote.

So what's left in terms of songwriting? The one thing he pats himself on the back for, the one thing Liam gave him (partial) credit for, and the one thing he and hic co-writers agree he actually does participate in (participate is a key word): LYRICS.

[Two of his songs get special treatment you can find that post here]

To be fair, we did a little detour so I could analyze Harry's lyrics first and show you what I value and what I'm critical of in terms of songwriting. Keep in mind, opinion about art is meant to be subjective. This is my taste and my opinions, and you can absolutely disagree.

Initially, I intended to do the same breakdown I did for Harry but for Louis. I also intended to do four songs, and do the different points for each of them.

I had to give up halfway through. I analyzed Kill My Mind and We Made It (and I might post that elsewhere so you can see it). I also intended to do Bigger Than Me and Saturdays, but frankly, I'm simply not going to.

Why? It's just BORING. I'm sorry but it's boring as fuck. I do these posts because they entertain me. I LOVE talking about art more than anything. I love poetry, I love this shit. But Louis' lyrics suck the fun out of it. And no, I'm not being dramatic.

I found myself wanting to compare him with better artists who tackled the topics he did in a more interesting, more compelling way, just so I could stop reading his and analyze interesting art instead. I had to stop myself from inserting Adele, Olivia Rodrigo, The Weeknd, Fleetwood Mac, Pink Floyd, just to name a few.

I found myself irritated, rolling my eyes at my screen.

I had to take so many long breaks, to do literally anything else because the idea of having to analyze his lyrics for two more seconds pained me.

Here's the problem, and I'll break it down for you:

HE'S LAZY.

We're talking about an artist who:

Wears the same outfits and/or the same style of clothes over and over.

Doesn't seem to even brush his hair or do the most minimal effort to look better.

Takes zero care of himself, of his skin, of his hair, of his food intake and diet, of his health.

Doesn't even know his own lyrics.

Has had fourteen years to learn an instrument and to this day hasn't played one live for more than 15 seconds, despite calling himself a musician

Has regressed in terms of vocal capabilities. He could sing better at the beginning of his career with 1D than at the end. And he could sing better at the end of 1D than now.

Doesn't come up with his own melodies, or sometimes, even his own lyrics or concepts.

His idea of an image to project has been "Northern lad from Donny who smokes and curses and gives you the finger and Noel Gallagher and Arctic Monkeys and indie bands" for 8 years with literally zero nuance since then.

Even his photoshoots are lazy. All he does is smolder at the camera wearing some sort of sweatshirt and athletic pants.

His staging is ridiculous, three TVs showing his own zoomed in face in black and white.

He puts zero effort in his career, in his own person, in his own image. I'm 100% sure that I spent more time thinking about his lyrics in the past week than he ever did, and you can absolutely tell.

I tried looking at his rhyming schemes. I compared one song to another, I listened to them (it was painful) trying to find little assonances, and counting syllables to see if he mirrored anything, if he told any stories within them. ANYTHING.

I don't want to cherry pick the worst bits and present them here as a "see, he's bad!" I want my analysis to be fair.

But I simply can't put myself through that. Why?

I'm not going to tell you. I'm going to show you (a concept Louis has never heard of).

RHYMING SCHEMES, CADENCE

[Most times they're either A A B B or A B A B or some slight variation of that. I haven't found a single song where the cadence is thoughtful. To be fair, I'm taking the first verse of the first five songs off each album.]

Album 1, song 1, verse 1:

You're a nightmare on the dance floor And you hate me, and I want more You're a total distraction While I'm waiting for your reaction, why?

A A B B

Album 1, song 2, verse 1

On our way to Twenty Seven Got a place on the other side of London Doing better, doing better And I know you left a part of you In New York under your bed in a box But you're doing better, doing better

???

Album 1, song 4, verse 1 (skipping song 3 because he didn't write it)

Oh my, I remember those nights Meet you at your uni', cheap drinks, drink ’em all night Staying out 'til sunrise Share a single bed and tell each other what we dream about Things we'd never say to someone else out loud We were only kids, just tryna work it out Wonder what they'd think if they could see us now, yeah

A A A B B B B

Album 1, song 5, verse 1

I've been looking back a lot lately Me and you is all I've ever known It’s hard to think you could ever hate me But everything's feeling different now

A B A B

Album 1, song 6, verse 1

Nothing wakes you up like wakin' up alone And all that's left of us is a cupboard full of clothes The day you walked away and took the higher ground Was the day that I became the man that I am now

A A B B

Album 2, song 1, verse 1

Tell you I'm on my way Nothing could make me late Said I had a plan for us Time, it came and changed it all We had to disappear ’Cause nothing gets through here Through that circle 'round my heart Where the best of me should start

A A B C D D E E

This is just a variation of A A B B C C, it's just that two sentences don't rhyme, for seemingly no artistic reason.

Album 2, song 2, verse 1

When you don't want coffee in the morning I know I'm in a hole It's hard enough to get you sober Got no chance if I'm hungover I ain't even woken up yet Not nearly vertical All I know is I'm in trouble 'Cause the atmosphere's so cold, so

A B C C D E E E

Basically, just A A B B B, with some sentences not rhyming.

I will commend the last syllable of "vertical" rhyming with "cold" and the first sentence of "trouble" as well. But the fact that the only reason he added "vertical" was to make that rhyme, because it adds nothing to the song "I ain't even woken up yet" already conveyed the same thought, kinda ruins it for me. IDK

Album 2, song 3, verse 1

I didn't read the signs Walkin' different lines I know I took a left Tryna make it right

A A B A

I'll give him that "left" could be done for artistic reasons, like, the only sentence that doesn't rhyme and it's him talking about making a mistake. I don't know that he's capable of being this thoughtful, or that he could even come up with it. But let's pretend. This is also poorly executed and I'll expand later.

Album 2, song 4, verse 1

You give and give until it's gone away Just tell yourself you've got another day You've lived that life, you just don't see it yet I see how hard you've worked to be yourself

A A B B

Album 2, song 5, verse 1

Good and bad and right and wrong Are stories made up when we're young to scare us Love and hate are in-between Depends on your reality to see them

A A B B

---

EFFECTIVITY AND COMFORTABILITY OF THE RHYMES + NONSENSICAL AND NARRATIVE ELEMENTS

[I combined all of it together because I started doing just the rhymes and then I just got distracted by his nonsense. So have it all together. Also, I'm doing nearly every song and the ones I skip, I explain why.]

Kill My Mind

You're a nightmare on the dance floor

Cliché

And you hate me, and I want more

'Nother cliché.

You're a total distraction While I'm waiting for your reaction, why?

Distraction from what? Reaction to what? You just wanted to rhyme these words didn't you? Cause they look similar? Cause this makes no sense in context.

The devil in my brain

CLICHEEEEE

Whispering my name

Why is he whispering your name if he's already inside your brain? Wouldn't he be whispering something more interesting? Like, idk "do crime"? Or, given the theme of this song "do drugs"?

I can hear it sayin', "Ah, ah, ah"

The fuck does "Ah, ah, ah" mean? It doesn't make sense in the context of the song either.

Kept me living From the last time From a prison of a past life On a mission just to feel like When you kissed me for the last time, why?

I put the whole verse in just to be 100% fair. The last two sentences make sense by themselves, but the first three are nonsensical. He clearly just wanted to rhyme prison and mission, which don't even form a perfect rhyme (different consonants).

And ya won't let go of your hold on me And I don't know what I'd do without you now

Not criticism, but commentary, and I'm being completely serious. This is quite worrisome to write in a song that's seemingly about substance abuse. Just saying.

[I'm skipping DLIBYH because it's getting special treatment. He didn't write Two Of Us.]

We Made It

'Cause we made it Underestimated And always underrated

Underestimated and underrated mean the same fucking thing. This isn't an essay — you don't need to hit a specific word count. What's the fucking need to just pad these songs?

Now we’re saying goodbye Waving to the hard times Yeah, it's gonna be alright

Just unnecessarily splitting a single thought into two "We're waving the hard times goodbye."

If any of this was actually poetic instead of at the level of eighth grade lit class, when Ms. Smith tries to get her students into poetry and asks them to submit their own attempts, I wouldn't say anything.

It's just bad, juvenile. It's beginner levels. This man has been "writing" songs for over a decade, and he gets paid handsomely to do so.

I measure things by average pop song. He's significantly worse than that.

Like the first time Met you at your doorstep Remember how it tasted Looking into your eyes Baby, you were still high Never coming down with your hand in mine

And how did the doorstep taste, Louis?

Too Young

I've been looking back a lot lately Me and you is all I've ever known It’s hard to think you could ever hate me But everything's feeling different now

Verb tenses are kicking his fucking ass. It WAS hard to believe she'd ever hate you. In the past. It's not hard to believe now. Because she hates you now. And you are writing the song now.

["Me and you is all I've ever known" is a rampant cliché, but I'll overlook it]

Also how awkward is the wording "everything's feeling different now"? Everything feels different now?

Let me give it a whirl...

I've been looking back a lot lately Me and you is all I've ever known Would've never believed you could hate me But all the love you had for me seems to be gone

It's certainly not a masterpiece. I'm working with the constrictions of his metrics, melodies, rhymes, corny ass themes, and... I'm not a professional songwriter. Also, I'm not getting paid to do this. But at least this not only rhymes and fits the metric, but also... MAKES GRAMMATICAL SENSE.

Walls

Nothing wakes you up like wakin' up alone

Nothing makes you hurt like hurtin' who you love

Nothing makes you run, like running out of time

See? I can do it too.

It's giving, I'm 14 and this is deep.

Sorry, I know I'm verging on bitch eating crackers territory, but godddd this is so cornyyy

But these high walls, they came up short Now I stand taller than them all These high walls never broke my soul And I, I watched them all come fallin' down I watched them all come fallin' down for you, for you

The whole song is corny, which, whatever, it's a pop song. Pop songs are often corny. It's fine. Now, can I ask a question?

Why would walls break one's soul?

I would leave it as a funny quip, and be done with it, but I'll explain the problem with his simile/metaphor.

First of all, where did the walls come from? This is the first verse:

Nothing wakes you up like wakin' up alone And all that's left of us is a cupboard full of clothes The day you walked away and took the higher ground Was the day that I became the man that I am now

The chorus about the walls comes right after. Did she erect (hehe) Walls around herself when she left? Cause there's no other explanation as to where the walls came from. If the song was about him overcoming those walls and getting back with her, that'd be something that makes sense. Slightly overdone, but it'd make sense.

Well, it's not. The bridge seals it (we'll get that in a second). He's saying that because he overcame those walls, he became a better person. So did she erect (hehe) walls around... him?

Huh, little bit kidnappy. But let's roll with it. So he's using the metaphor of her, I guess building a wall around him, for some fuckass reason. A physical wall that he physically overpowers because he becomes taller and it's too short for him.

So how can a physical wall break your soul? The metaphor here would be switching from physical to spiritual. A metaphor that already doesn't make a ton of sense, now makes even less so.

The bridge, though....

So this one is a thank you for what you did to me

What did she do to you? You haven't said. All you mention is her leaving after you hurt her. Doesn't seem like she did much of anything TO you. It seems like YOU did this. Or are you actually claiming that she trapped you inside short-ish walls? If this song is attempting to be sincere and not sarcastic (I think it's sincere?) then wouldn't it be better to say "for what you did FOR me"?

Why is it that "thank you"s are so often bittersweet?

Are they? Since when?? Says who??

I just hope I see you one day, and you say to me, "Oh, oh"

You want her to say "oh, oh"? The fuck does that mean? After this comes the chorus, so he's the one talking about overcoming walls again. She doesn't say anything other than "oh, oh". Whatever the fuck that means.

[I just have to laugh because the rhymes, cadence, and rhyming scheme of this are piss poor, the melody is interpolated from three different Oasis songs (Acquiesce, Stop Crying Your Heart Out, and Cast No Shadow,) and the music video is directly lifted from a fourth, different Oasis music video for the song Live Forever. Add to that that the lyrics are completely nonsensical and you have the "Louis is a great songwriter and artist" bingo.

NO HE'S NOT.]

Habit

You're the shiver that I can't shake

You give me the time and the space I was out of control And I'm sorry I let you down I guess that I know what I already knew I was better with you And I miss you now

Not going to criticize this because it's just your run of the mill pop song, but I can't help it, this whole song is giving

Always You

I went to so many places Looking for you in their faces

He's INCAPABLE of show don't tell, isn't he?

By show don't tell I mean:

Woke up the girl who looked just like you I almost said your name

Show me that you see her face in someone else. Don't tell me.

Arctic Monkeys has a whole song about this:

I thought I saw you in the Battleship But it was only a look-a-like She was nothing but a vision trick Under the warning light She was close, close enough to be your ghost But my chances turned to toast When I asked her if I could call her your name

I'm not specifically talking about this lyric in particular when I say "show don't tell", btw. It's just that that's his vibe so much of the time and it irritates me. I'm not saying he never "shows". I'm obviously being hyperbolic, and I'm not saying you ALWAYS have to show instead of tell, either. I just think he misses a ton of opportunities to be a little more poetic that would very much elevate his lyrics.

Seeing your ex's face on someone else is a commonly used trope, which can become corny and cliché or poetic depending on how you communicate it. He chose corny and cliché.

Fearless

This is a lyrically sound song. No notes. I don't necessarily agree with his view of things — I think he has a very narrow view of what succeeding in life can be, but it's a well-written song. Lyrically, sonically it's BORINNNNG.

Perfect Now

If you are a fan of his and you're reading this... first of all, wow, that should count as masochism. Second of all, I hope you remember when I was very nice just now. Because I'm about to be a bitch.

You say to me your jeans don't fit

You don't feel pretty and it's hard to miss

'Cause everybody's lookin' at you now, my, oh my

I guess some queens don't need a crown

Listen, I'm no stranger to men writing weird ass lyrics about women. Harry did write "Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short" after all (at least he tried to redeem himself with "but I think that's what I like about it"). But JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

Not only is the jeans bit a weird ass fucking thing for a man to write that about a woman in the 2020s (to be frank, it was weird when Ed Sheeran wrote it in Little Things in 2012, so imagine now), but also, how cringe was it for him to still be doing that at almost 30?

Don't even get me started with the "Some queens don't need a crown" shit. That would've been corny and overdone if Elvis had sung it in the 50s.

Also

You never stop given half the chance

Cliché

Even when your tears are fallin' down Still, somehow, you're perfect now

Keep your head up, love, keep your head up

Cliché

You make me feel like being someone good to you

....? What? So it's up to her to... make you... feel... like being good to her? Is that not your default setting?

Every insecurity, like a neon sign, as bright as day If you knew what you were to me You would never try to hide away

No, yeah, I'm sure all her deep rooted problems with insecurity, which likely stem from patriarchy and the impossible standard women have to fulfill, would magically be solved if she understood that you like, REALLY fancy her. You're the center of the fucking universe, after all!

Throw this entire song in the trash. Burn it. Then bury the ashes. Jesus fuck, he's such a fucking asshole.

Defenceless

I come runnin' to you like a moth into a flame

This is the first sentence, y'all..

We're sleepin' on our problems like we'll solve them in our dreams We wake up early morning and they're still under the sheets

He probably thought this was so deep. Hell, his fans probably think this is deep too.

Obviously, the point is that you're not going to solve your problems if you sleep on them (double meaning because "sleeping on" something means ignoring it). My point is that it's the type of analogy your Uber driver makes at 3 AM when he picks you up after a night out with friends, and that's the only context in which this analogy sounds thoughtful in any way.

The main problem I have with this brand of lyric of his is that he takes it seriously and so do his fans. Nobody thinks "You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky" is Nietzsche or treats it at such. Perhaps it touches you personally and that's valid, but it's just a cool song, at the end of the day.

Never been so defenceless (Oh) Never been so defenceless (Ooh) You just keep on buildin' up your fences (Oh) But I've never been so defenceless (Ooh)

Tell me he didn't just rhyme "defenceless" with "fences"...

I've been holding my tongue but it's so fucking obvious that his first instinct is to rhyme words that visually look like they might rhyme. That's the level we're working with.

[He didn't write Only The Brave so we're skipping it too.]

The Greatest

Time, it came and changed it all

[Noun] [comma] it [did thing]

Abolish that sentence structure unless you're willing to make it interesting.

Also this is a cliché.

’Cause nothing gets through here Through that circle 'round my heart Where the best of me should start

The fuck does this mean?

It's you and me until the еnd

Cliché

Your face reminded me Of a love you cannot hide

It SHOWED you, not reminded you.

Writing a song "for your fans" is corny as fuck.

[Written All Over Your Face will get special treatment, so we're skipping it.]

Bigger Than Me

When somebody told me I would change

Who told you you would change? People in general? If it's people in general why not just say that? If it was a specific person why are you being vague?

I used to hide behind a smile When somebody told me I would change I was afraid, I don't know why

Something about the "I don't know why" rhyme is so fucking juvenile, but I can't put my finger on why.

'Cause so does the world outside, I've realised

Sorry, not a commentary on how good or bad the lyrics are, but is he saying "I was afraid of changing but I don't know why since the world changes too"?

His emotional intelligence is sub-zero isn't it?

I know I took a left Tryna make it right

Even hen he's trying to do wordplay he just smacks you in the face with it.

I'm not exactly a fan of Taylor Swift's, but Louis' fans often compare him to her, and...

The woman has many, many flaws as an artist (to be fair, all artists do), but when she wants to, she can write a mean lyric, and Louis CANNOT.

Everybody moved on, I stayed there. Dust collected on my pinned-up hair. They expected me to find somewhere, some perspective, but I sat and stared right where you left me. You left me no, oh. You left me no choice but to stay here forever.

THAT is wordplay.

Right and left but not meaning right and left in the directional sense

"I'm where you left me" meaning, in the physical place you dropped something

"You left me" meaning, you abandoned something, ended a relationship

"You left me no choice", meaning, I had no other option

Even a poppy Sabrina Carpenter song has more thought put into it:

We were goin' right, then you took a left Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess

She starts it off as lazy as Louis but she actually adds it a little something something.

When I say his music is worse than the average pop song...

I've woken up from my sleep

Cliché

[Blanket statements about me pointing out clichés. They're not necessarily bad. To some degree, they're unavoidable, especially with a large body of work. Unless I really go in on it, I'm just pointing out when he uses them to keep track of it. Like I said, having clichés, commonplaces, common tropes, etc, is normal. What's not normal is how often he does it]

All of these voices, all of these choices I don't hear them anymore

You don't hear the choices?

[Blanket statement about me pointing out small nonsensical elements. Pop songs tend to say some shit here and there. The problem is the frequency of his nonsense, and sometimes the levels of it. The lack of better elements is also a problem.]

'Cause, yeah, I mighta changed But everybody does

Do they? Oh wow.

Now I realise that the world outside Is bigger than me

Is it? Oh wow.

He made an entire song about realizing that the world is bigger than him.

This is what the song is supposed to be about:

As the lead single from Louis Tomlinson’s sophomore studio album, Faith in the Future, “Bigger Than Me” finds itself as an anthemic pop/rock song, on which Tomlinson sings about letting go of self-doubt, personal growth and shutting down the negative voices.

Lucky Again

If you believe that guy is Superman They're selling tickets at the cinema

Is he trying to say, like, "I have a bridge to sell you"? Cause nobody says it this way. I checked.

I'm so confused.

Whatever gets you through the darkest night

Cllché

Just find the light out in the madness, hold tight

Cllché

'Cause I'm a hard man to lose

Does this mean that it's bad to lose him? Or that he's hard to lose as in, he's got an airtag on him? A third thing I can't think of?

The rest of the verse doesn't help with context:

But I figured it out, then made my way back To a life I would choose We werе lucky once, I could be lucky again

Beforе the world, it got so serious

[Noun] [comma] it [did thing]

Before the time, it got away from us

This combination is lethal.

[Noun] [comma] it [did thing] + an incredibly overused idiom

Face The Music

Good and bad and right and wrong Are stories made up when we're young to scare us

No they're not???

Love and hate are in-between Depends on your reality to see them

Is this purposefully idiotic or am I just not getting it? Love and hate are not in-between. He's just saying things atp.

I just wanna stay in the moment the rest of my life

Cliché. A good excuse as any to listen to this awesome song:

I don't wanna face the music, but I still wanna dance with you

This is a cliché ("face the music") but the lyric is cute (and I'm not being facetious).

Close your eyes and count to ten If you're standin' on the edge of fallin' Open up and looking down Everything that matters is forgotten

Huh?

Chicago

They say bitter ends turn sweet in time

Who says that? This is the first time I ever hear these words put together this way.

You always made me feel much bеtter And I'll always be grateful for that

So many of his lyrics sound like he's texting (derogatory)

All This Time

I'm tryna find the words to say for ages

Cliché

It's not how you spend the time, it's if you waste it

Coooooorny ass cliché

And I keep on building mountains hoping that they'll turn to gold

Well that's fucking stupid. Why would mountains turn to gold? Where did you even get that they'd do that?

Also how are you BUILDING mountains? Who the fuck BUILDS mountains? Do you know what mountains are? And what "building" means?

It's the way we see ourselves through walls of trees

You guys, what the hell is he banging on about? What does this MEAN?

I keep looking up the things he writes just to see if I'm missing some context or some popular British saying. I'm not British! British people are weird! But no. It's just that he's writing nonsense.

Writing nonsense is FINE if that's your stylistic choice. I LOOOOVE Oasis and they write some of the most nonsensical garbage you could ever imagine, but

1- The music fucking slaps

2- It's not meant to be read as diaristic or biographical. It's also not meant to be read as a straightforward story or whatever. It's meant to be flowery and a little esoteric.

Louis went on and on about honest lyrics, and how little he liked metaphors, and how he didn't like exactly the type of lyric Oasis tends to write (all while claiming that Oasis wrote the type of lyrics he does like, because he's fucking stupid — I made a whole post about that).

It doesn't even feel like he's trying to be metaphorical and weird or flowery here anyway? It just feels like he's stupid and says stupid shit that doesn't make sense, all the while actively trying to make sense.

Also, Oasis' nonsense is more poetic, but it has it's own worldbuilding and logic. It's not outright dumb like "building mountains," so there's that.

Out Of My System

Take anything you can carry And leave everythin' else behind

Cliché

I am only half of what I think I can be

Are ya? Then why don't you try to better yourself? Cause that's my main issue with your entire existence. I personally think you're way too much for how little talent and hard work you put into things.

Gotta get it off of my chest

Cliché

I've lived a lot of my life already But I gotta get through the rest

Am I being too bitch eating crackers? Yes, Louis, you have to get through the rest. That is how life works.

Demons, I'm takin' all of my demons Putting them where I won't see them 'Cause I just wanna feel alive

This is such a confusing metaphor. What do you mean by taking? Taking them off? Taking them with you? What do you mean "putting them where I won't see them?" Like, what does it mean in the context of this metaphor? What do your demons have to do with feeling alive?

Having demons is a commonplace about struggling with stuff (it can be mental health, family issues, personality issues, a number of different things). It doesn't typically have anything to do with "feeling alive" or not.

I'm not saying these lyrics are necessarily invalid? I just think he could've taken a little longer to develop this metaphor more and make it click better and easier. I'm having trouble interpreting what he's trying to say here, and I don't think it's lack of trying or being pedantic. I think I'm being pretty fair, and in all.

[He didn't write Headline so I'm skipping it.]

Saturdays

I'm not supposed to be Feelin' dirty cheap on Silver Street At quarter to three

Why not? I mean, the feeling dirty cheap I get. Yeah, you're not supposed to feel that way. That's sad. I'm sorry that happened, bro.

But why aren't you supposed to be on Silver Street at a quarter-to-three? For the record, Silver Street is a street in Doncaster that's lined with a bunch of clubs. If you're ver gonna be on Silver Street, it's likely to be at a quarter-to-three. And I see nothing wrong with going clubbing once in a while.

Is he trying to say that he's not supposed to feel dirty cheap on Silver Street because he's out clubbing? But then why add the time? Would it be okay to feel dirty cheap when out clubbing if it was a little earlier?

I am being pedantic now, btw. Why? Because there are ways to write this that make it clear that the problem is with how he feels while being out with friends. Incredible songwriters, such as what Louis and his fans claim he is, would do that. Not just use the first combination of words that rhymes and fits the metric.

Hidden across my face In the crowd, I'm countin' up the days

What's hidden across his face? He never clarifies. Something is hidden. A feeling? A scar? A mole? A crowd can't hide across your face, and these sentences come right after the ones I just quoted, and are followed by:

In a haze I'm gazin' at the floor Somebody's got your trainers on The ones that you wore When you walked out the door

Still on the last two sentences: maybe he's trying to convey that him feeling dirty cheap is hidden across his face? If he's trying to do that, he failed.

The new bits I added now are alright. "In a haze I'm gazing at the floor, somebody's got your trainers on" is pretty good, actually. I personally would've said "the ones you had on when you walked out the door," instead of "the ones that you wore when you walked out the door." It just feels more sentence like. Because of the melody of this song, he tends to pause between sentences, so the way he wrote it feels like he's saying "somebody's got your trainers on, the ones that you wore." Which would be very redundant. What he's saying is that someone's wearing the exact shoes she wore when she left him.

Like I said, he suffers from chronic Not Taking The Time To Edit And Perfect His Lyrics. That's what I'm trying to point out here.

The feeling he's trying to convey is actually interesting and relatable, and the lyrics aren't necessarily BAD. They just aren't that good and can lend to confusion, especially given the cadence of the song. It wouldn't take a lot of work to make these lyrics be excellent and elevate the song, but alas...

Nobody stays the same No matter how much you want it Some things change

Cliché. And annoying at that.

Through my cigarette A shadow of you sticks me to the carpet Try to ignore it

??

Somethin' about the way The light catches the mirror in my brain It gives me shade

What?

Silver Tongues

Gettin' high on the amber wave

This is presumably about beer. You get drunk on beer, not high, Louis. If he's trying to wordplay like he's high (as in, physically) on the "wave" then he needs to find a way to close the metaphor. He could've said "getting under the amber wave." When you're drunk, you're under the influence.

Going deep for the ones who do the same

He could've continued the metaphor with this if he had used "under" instead of "high." You're under, and you get deeper. If you're high, you're not deep, because high means up. Yes, I am being bitchy. Thank you for noticing. I'm fed up.

Not to mention this sentence is confusing. What does "going deep" even mean in this context?

Air Maxes and silver tongues Settle in for another heavy one

Another heavy one what...? It's not clear in context.

You said love was a pretty lie And I choked when your smoke got in my eye Bad logic and empty cans

I can't decide if he's being clever or dumb. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt that he's saying "bad logic" because you can't choke from getting smoke in your eye, but he's said so much dumb nonsensical shit in his lyrics that I don't know.

Let's give him this one. This, that one sentence from Face The Music, and Fearless are the only lyrics of his that I find good so far.

I know nobody understands Me like you do

Cliché (tolerable)

You know, when I'm with you, I'm so much happier

Cliché (also tolerable)

You smile at me and say, "It's time to go" But I don't feel like goin' home

Cliché (tolerable)

You and me until the end

Cliché (alright cut it out)

Wakin' up to start again

Cliché (....)

There's nowhere else that I would rather be

Cliché, verging on intolerable with how many there are in a row.

Also excuse to put another huge and much better song

She Is Beauty We Are Word Class

Conversation is currency

Okay, interesting! Where is this going?

Shapes become a language

Uh... letters are technically shapes, and letters form words in multiple languages?

Square eyes and sunglasses

Is this a Keep Driving type of song? I can get behind those, but I'm not following right now.

Finding faces in the trees Fabricated fairytales Bring a new world to life Sit down, sit down in the space and time

I'm so confused.

She is beauty And we are world-class (Oh) Forever We let the feeling last

That's the chorus. Small tangent.

In Keep Driving, the first verse lists things that seem random until you hit the chorus.

A small concern with how the engine sounds. We held darkness in withheld clouds. I would ask "Should we just keep driving?"

Essentially, the engine sounds like it's about to break, and the darkness in the clouds show that there's a storm coming, but he stubbornly asks if they should keep going regardless. The part about darkness and clouds seems to indicate "a storm coming" isn't just literally coming in the real world, but also in the relationship.

The analogy is, driving in a car that's about to break, but not doing anything about it, and finding yourself stuck in the middle of a storm because you didn't act when you should've, and comparing that to a relationship.

Anyway, it seems that whoever he's talking to is as stubborn as he is, because he continues to list things in the second verse, particularly "pancakes for two" and "I will always love you."

The singing (the way he sings) gets a little more intense in the bridge. And the things he lists get more unhinged. It starts off listing things that makes it sound like a road trip ("passports in footwells"), which makes the parallel meaning of the song take even more form and makes the other things he listed in the verses make more sense (sunglasses, cameras, breakfast items, etc).

Continuing with the bridge, there are little things that allude to the summer of 2020, "tea with cyborgs" is most likely a reference to doing zoom calls with your loved ones during quarantine, and "Riot America" to the Black Lives Matter movement, which hit its peak in May-June 2020. "Life hacks going viral in the bathroom" is a literal thing that happened during quarantine, particularly on TikTok.

There's allusions to sex ("choke her with a sea view" and "side boob") and to substances ("puff pass" "edibles" "cocaine" "wine glass").

Then "tootache", "bad move", "just act normal" show us that something is going wrong. Following the theme of the song, he ends the bridge with "it's all good, hey you" and then the outro just says "should we just keep driving", signaling that, despite the fact that there's clearly issues, they'll continue to ignore them, and closing the metaphor fully.

I think Keep Driving is a brilliant song, perfectly executed. And if Louis were writing something like that, I'd commend him. Music and poetry within it gives you so many possibilities. Not everything has to be narrative-driven.

The problem that I have is that I just cannot make sense of this song at all.

This is the second verse:

Escape the inevitable Fade into light Soak up the empathy 'Cause I’m with you tonight

I'm sorry, but what is he talking about? There doesn't seem to be a thread that connects any of this.

Are we one or are we two? Are we me or are we you? Have we been all this before? Do you see what I see?

Is it a stream of consciousness type of thing? Cause I can get behind those too, but typically, the songs are, you know, better.

Like, I'm not gonna analyze this song super closely if that's what it's meant to be doing because I respect a stream of consciousness 100%, but I will judge the fact that the song is ass. If you're gonna do stream of consciousness you have to write a banger song.

This is one of my favorite songs by Oasis:

For those who might be reading this long ass essay out of curiosity and aren't familiar with Louis' song, well, I don't recommend it, but you can find it here.

Common People

I came from a good home A house full of terrace dreams That was enough for me You know, you had to see it to believe

"Gotta see it to believe" implies something unbelievable, weird. What is so unbelievable about a good home?

All the late nights, good times

Cliché

No deep pockets, but big hearts

Cliché

This song is pointless and boring.

Angels Fly

Nothin' really matters Nothin' really hurts We can talk about it It'll only make it worse

Jesus Christ, who pissed in your cereal? Not commentary on the quality of the lyrics, but my god.

If every star is an eye in the sky You'll see angels fy

Put the pain behind you now You don't need it anymore

BOOOOOO. Cliché

Holding On To Heartache

You said I wear it like a crown

Cliché

You should be starin' at the sky The birds just passin' by, love

This song is apparently about how much he misses being in 1D, which...

These two sentences I'm quoting do absolutely nothing to further the narrative and I'm not sure what the point of including them was other than not actually having to think and make an effor to come up with something relevant.

I can still hear a clock that's tickin'

Cliché

You know the party's over When you're standin' in an empty space alone

Not commentary on the quality of the lyrics, but yes, he's literally this meme (derogatory):

And time can always heal you If you let it make its way into your bones

Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated? Time can always heal you if you let it. End of. Why does time have to get into your bones? What kind of weird ass, unnecessary metaphor even is this? Just not wanting to think of a better, more compelling way to word things and sticking with the first sentence that fits the metric.

Nothing's ever easy

Plenty of things are easy. This adds nothing to the song or its meaning. You're just saying things.

[Writing this song three years after his admitted BFF said that he would've died if he had stayed in the band feels pretty fucking selfish. He's allowed to feel however he feels, but there was no need to externalize it constantly, especially knowing how much Liam was struggling...]

That's The Way Love Goes

Cool, simple song lyrically speaking. Nothing amazing and there are a couple of clichéd sayings, but it's fine! Lyrically one of his best alongside Fearless. It's a little boring musically speaking (better than Fearless, though), nothing to write home about, it could be better if he wasn't the one singing it. His voice really does ruin everything.

Change

This song is cliché o'clock:

Time of our lives

it's easy to see

We were just gettin' by

If you need, you can call on me

I'll be the friend you need

'Cause everything's changed outside, but I feel the same inside

The kids are alright

When we gonna realise we don't get another life?

I know it'll be alright

We've still got the rest of our lives

'Cause we're all the same inside

If he was trying to do a song full of idioms that'd be so cool. Like Better Than Words in 1D. But he's not trying to do that. There are a bunch of sentences here that aren't idioms. He's just fucking lazy.

The theme of the song is so boring too. Nothing's changed, I mean, some things changed, which I hate, but also I miss it, and I'm from Doncaster did you know?

----

Okay, I was gonna do High In California, but it's just a song about smoking weed, and I refuse to analyze that lyrically. I was also gonna do Miss You, Back To You, Just Like You, and Copy of a Copy of a Copy... I'm not going to. I'm bored and annoyed and I wanna be done with this.

You can find the analysis I mentioned of Written All Over Your Face and Don't Let It Break Your Heart IN THIS LINK.

---

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I think I have proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Louis is a lazy songwriter who doesn't put too much thought into his lyrics, which are the only part where he has any actual participation (going from what he and his collaborators have said about the process so far and the liner notes in his albums).

You can feel like the lyrics touch you or you feel represented by them or whatever, that's absolutely fine. I'm not judging that. What I'm judging is how apt of a songwriter he is technically speaking. I can't judge vibes. Vibes are personal.

Technically speaking, he's terrible. Like, downright one of the worst I've ever had the displeasure of listening to.

With that, I bid you goodbye.

PS I have not proofread this monster of a post. I might do it in the future. I've had this written for a few days, and decided to post it on New Year's as a gift for those of you (all five of you! haha) who enjoy my content. Thank you

[queenofbaws]

Queenie my dear I hope the current everything about the US is kind to you.

For this prompt I must request some angst. I got this idea of post canon Chrashley or Jossam with the lyrics to this song: Next To You by Greylee

I take care of me, I take care of me

I wanna let you in but I’m so scared of this cause

I take care of me

It’s how I’ve had to be

Maybe I’ll let you see

For now I’ll take care of me next to you

She knew who it'd be the second the door swung open - she didn't even need to hear the whispered "Shit, hey can you maybe put me somewhere...else?" or the ranger's exasperated sigh. She simply heard his footsteps and knew, felt his presence and knew; she just...knew.

And why not? They'd spent the past however-long pretty much attached at the hip. You learned everything about a person when you spent that much time with them.

Well.

Maybe not everything.

Ashley didn't make any move to look up from the floor. There was a crack running through the tile she'd been following for the past hour or so, real riveting stuff, and she worried if she so much as glanced away she'd lose all the progress she'd made in tracking its source. Instead, she sank deeper into herself, the wall supporting her body weight more than her bones. She sat on the floor, knees drawn to her chest, her head propped up in the comfortable crook where the two walls met in a corner, and she stared at the floor. Her fingers moved absently up and down the laces of her boots, up and down, up and down, memorizing the twists of their knots.

She could feel Chris looking at her, though. Not straight-on, but from the side. He always thought he was sly with that, always thought he was hiding it. It hadn't fooled her before the lodge, and it didn't fool her now - it just did something different to her stomach.

He didn't sit beside her, and for that she was grateful. Or was she? Probably she was. She should've been, anyway, after everything he'd done, but...her head hurt too bad. It was too hard to think about. He didn't sit beside her, that was the important thing, choosing instead to sit at the literal farthest point in the room from her, and that, at least, she could understand.

Unlike some other decisions he'd made that night.

They might've spent a day in that room together; it might've been thirty seconds. Either way, eventually he cleared his throat, sniffed hard through his swollen nose, decided he couldn't handle the silence anymore. "Uh. So. Hey."

But Ashley had been enjoying the silence. She'd been enjoying it quite a bit, in fact. So she kept her eyes on the tiles, and she followed the crack running through them, and she blinked to soothe her hot, tired eyes.

She heard him squirm. Two feelings rose up inside of her, both completely antithetical. The first was old, familiar: Go help him. The second was newer, but no less deeply rooted: Good. How they could both exist inside of her she didn't know, but all at once she felt herself divided down the middle, tearing herself apart along the seam between the two.

Was that what had happened to the floor? Was that going to happen to her now? Would there just be a crack, a chasm, running through her forever and ever, unfilled and ugly? Would she become some sort of living, breathing tripping hazard, something that people avoided getting too close to?

Did she care?

There was another rustle as Chris shifted, and she knew without looking what was happening. Another old habit - he got restless when he was nervous, yeah, but more restless still when he had a migraine coming on. He'd crane his head every which way, searching for the miracle angle that would take the pressure off, or maybe put the right kind of pressure on, and no matter how many times she told him that wouldn't work, that he'd have to bite the bullet and -

Bad turn of phrase. Bad, bad, bad. Ashley swallowed hard against the bile rising in her throat and lifted one of her hands, pointing towards the cabinet hung on the far wall. "Excedrin in there," she said, not entirely sure why, "Second shelf. I checked." She wasn't sure why she'd done that either.

"I...oh. Uh. Thanks."

"Yup."

She dug her chin into her kneecap, hoping that would be the end of it but knowing in her heart that it wouldn't be. Couldn't be. In her periphery, she watched his boots make their way across the room and to the cabinet, heard the metal screech of it opening, and...

"I - okay you know what? I-I-I don't get why you're the one who gets to be the most mad right now! I don't! I really don't! You locked me out, Ash! You locked me out in the snow with that, that, th-th-that thing, and - !"

She let go of her laces, dragging her fingers along the fabric of her tights instead. "You got back in," she pointed out, and was shocked - shocked - at how even her voice sounded. When had that happened, she wondered.

"That...that doesn't mean it wasn't hugely fucked up, what you did! I-I-I mean, do you have any idea how scared I was?! Do you have the first fucking idea how - "

She raised her eyes then, despite how badly the light made them hurt. To her relief, Chris stopped mid-breath, the slackening of his face suggesting he'd realized (a second too late) the door he'd just opened.

"I do," she said in that same level tone. "I can guess, yeah. Pretty sure I can."

After spending the night (after spending most of her life) clinging to his side, desperate for proximity and praying for attention, it felt strange to sit there like that, grateful for the distance between them. How many times had she grabbed for his hand that night? His arm? How many times had she flailed her arms just to brush against him, to reassure herself that he was there, he was all right, he was still alive? Now she thought if he took a step towards her she might scream.

She might curl up in a ball and melt, too. Might start sobbing. Maybe wouldn't be able to stop. Would she cling to him? Push him away? Break his nose for real? She didn't know. Wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Each option seemed just as likely as the last.

"That was - " he started, looking away.

"Different?" she preempted, and couldn't decide whether she was vindicated or ashamed when he cringed away.

"A mistake, Ash. That was...I...the gun was...it was a mistake." And then the quiet came again, crashing down on their shoulders like the storm, like the beams of the lodge the moment after they'd run out screaming. Chris opened his mouth like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't.

She held his gaze for another beat - one that could've been a lifetime, one that could've been a second - and when she lowered her eyes again, she couldn't help following that crack again, tracing its path through the room.

Chris on one side, her on the other.

Ashley waited until she heard him pop the lid off the medicine bottle before she spoke again. "I'm glad you found another way in." She hoped he wouldn't ask if locking him out had been a mistake too; she hadn't quite decided yet. This felt like a happy medium.

"Yeah," he said amid the rattling of pills, "me too."

On the floor, she closed her eyes. Took a breath. She counted to fifteen (how long it always took him to decide whether to dry-swallow or crunch the horrible things), and she listened for his footsteps.

She hoped he wouldn't sit beside her when he was finished.

She really, really hoped he would.

Her fingers moved to her face, and she was shocked when she didn't feel a seam.

[pinkertinn]

CleonWeek Day3 - I Hope You're Happy

Title: If it Makes You Happy, it Can't Be That Bad

Summary: “You were that song I never forgot the lyrics to.”

WordCount: 1,000 Cross posted to AO3

The invitation had been sitting on Claire’s kitchen table for weeks now, its presence almost mocking in its pristine white envelope. She hadn’t opened it when it first arrived, hadn’t needed to. The neat cursive spelling out her name—Claire Redfield—was enough. It had come like a final punctuation mark to a story she had convinced herself wasn’t finished. But now, as she stared at it once more, the realization hit her with brutal clarity.

Leon was getting married.

She knew it would happen eventually. Over the years, she had tried to picture it in her head: Leon in a suit, standing at the altar with someone else, a smile that wasn’t meant for her. Still, the real thing cut deeper than she expected. There had been chances, so many moments where things could’ve been different, where she could have said or done something to make them more than what they were. They had always danced around the edge of something real, lingering in the tension of shared glances, too-long touches, and quiet confessions that never crossed the threshold of full honesty.

But she didn’t go to the wedding. She couldn’t.

Sitting alone in her apartment that day, Claire tried not to think about the ceremony, but every time she closed her eyes, she imagined it. Leon, looking sharp in his tux, his eyes softening as he gazed at his bride—someone who wasn’t her. She thought of all the nights they spent together, not in a romantic sense, but in that space of unspoken closeness. The missions, the late-night calls, the drinks they shared when the weight of the world felt unbearable. She thought about the way his eyes always found hers first, even in a crowded room, and how, for a while, that had been enough.

But there were missed chances, so many. There was the time she could have told him how she felt, that night after a near-death mission when they sat by the fire, both exhausted but alive. He had looked at her, really looked at her, like he was waiting for something. But the words had stuck in her throat, and she had let the moment pass. And again, years later, when they found themselves alone in a hotel room, both of them teetering on the edge of something they refused to name. She had wanted to close the distance between them, to take his hand, to say let’s try. But she didn’t.

She never did.

Now, a decade later, they bumped into each other by sheer accident. Claire was coming out of a coffee shop when she saw him, standing on the corner with his family. The world seemed to freeze around her as her eyes locked onto him, taking in the sight she had never really prepared herself for. Leon was older now, but the years had been kind to him. His face had more lines, his hair was dusted with gray, but his smile—it was the same. He stood with a woman she assumed was his wife, her hand resting lightly on his arm, and two children who clung to their father, their eyes bright and innocent.

It was a sight that felt like a punch to the gut.

Leon saw her almost immediately, his expression faltering for just a second before the smile returned, more hesitant now. He excused himself from his family and walked toward her, his steps slower than she remembered. Claire’s heart was pounding in her chest, and she cursed herself for not being more prepared for this moment.

“Claire,” he said, his voice warm but cautious. “It’s been a long time.”

She forced a smile, trying to keep her emotions in check. “Yeah. A long time.”

There was so much she wanted to say. How are you? Do you ever think about what we could’ve been? Are you happy? But none of the questions made it past her lips. Instead, she stood there, feeling the weight of all those missed chances pressing down on her chest, the years of silence between them thick like a barrier she couldn’t cross.

He glanced back at his family, his wife laughing softly as she held their youngest child’s hand. The sight of them together made Claire’s throat tighten, and suddenly, the words she hadn’t planned on saying slipped out, raw and unfiltered.

“I hope you’re happy.”

Her voice cracked, and she hated herself for it. But it was the only thing she could say without falling apart.

Leon’s smile faded, replaced by something softer, almost regretful. He looked at her for a long moment, and in his eyes, she saw a flicker of something—maybe the same thing she felt. Regret, sadness, the weight of everything they never said to each other.

“I am,” he said quietly, but there was a hesitance in his tone. “I hope you are too.”

She nodded, even though it wasn’t true, even though the words felt like sand slipping through her fingers. She could’ve had more. They could’ve been more. But now, it was too late.

As he turned to rejoin his family, Claire stood there, watching him walk away, a bittersweet ache settling in her chest. She could see it now—the life he had built, the happiness he had found. And she wondered, not for the first time, if she had ever really stood a chance, if there had ever been a moment where they could’ve been more than two people who crossed paths in the chaos of their lives.

She turned away, swallowing the lump in her throat, and walked back into the coffee shop. The door swung shut behind her, but the weight of all the things unsaid lingered, like a shadow that would follow her for the rest of her life.

[asexual-juliet]

the lonely journal keeper lucretia will remember that.

(full playlist & notes under the cut)

i. landslide - fleetwood mac well, I've been afraid of changin' / 'cause I've built my life around you / but time makes you bolder / even children get older / and I'm getting older too the other day @papergardener referred to lucretia and magnus as “these two children having to grow up and yet unable to” which i have not stopped thinking about since and like, the gravity of “even children get older / and i’m getting older, too” with the context of the century lucretia spent as such a young woman and then the way she lost 20 years so suddenly in wonderland… like shit, man, i guess children DO get older… fuck…

ii. house by the sea - moddi and i’m trying my best to be tough / to pretend i am strong and can siphon it off / but i’m not who i wanted to be / in my heart i belong in a house by the sea this is mostly related to the fic i wrote about stolen century-era lucretia and magnus talking about getting platonically married someday and lucretia dreams of them getting a cottage by the ocean together and once again papergardener recommended this song to me in the comments. so. a+ to them this is definitely a lucretia song <3

iii. training montage - the mountain goats i'm doing this for revenge / i am doing this to try and stay true / i’m doing this for the ones they had to leave behind / i’m doing this for you this song is specifically about the cycle with the four judges where lucretia has to fight her way back to her friends alone–both the lyrics and the feeling of a “training montage” really vibe with this for me… there’s also the brutal connotation of “i’m doing this for the ones they had to leave behind / i’m doing this for you” when it comes to lucretia as madame director… yeah.

iv. northern attitude - noah kahan you build a boat / you build a life / you lose your friends / you lose your wife literally like. building a boat and a life is obviously about the seven birds and the starblaster but on the next chorus instead of “lose your friends, lose your wife” it’s “lose your kids, lose your wife,” and like. taako losing his friends (and like obviously they all lost their friends but also with reference to taako & sazed)... merle losing his kids… magnus losing his wife. it’s all right there and lucretia is watching from the sidelines as the new lives she built for her friends fall apart and she can’t do anything about it.

v. people watching - conan gray i wanna feel all that love and emotion / be that attached to the person i'm holding / someday, i'll be falling without caution / but for now, i'm only people watching furthering my aro lucretia agenda + i also feel like this really get to the core of like, lucretia just watching for twelve years… the detachment from everything and everyone around her, the way she’s forced herself to stay on the sidelines, the aching she must feel for all of it…

vi. cry for judas - the mountain goats some things you do just to see / how bad they'll make you feel / sometimes you try to freeze time / 'til the slots are a blur of spinning wheels once before performing this song at a concert, john darnielle said “this is a song about how when you think about what judas did you have to cry for him, because it’s pretty sad” and like… holy shit, man. that’s her. that’s lucretia. that’s her song. she did what she thought was right but she still betrayed her family and the sadness in that is just so immense. you know what john darnielle? it is pretty sad!! (also hiiii @nbshrubberry this is the second mountain goats song on here so this does in fact seem like your niche)

vii. bad guy - set it off when I fought for you / i kept you safe at night / i would have risked my life / and you made me the bad guy i was introduced to this song by perhaps the best TAZ animatic on the internet and it’s literally her song. it’s like… she so clearly thought what she was doing was the only solution and she has done everything she can to keep her family safe and yet they’ve still turned against her… that shit’s heartbreaking, bro

viii. everything stays - adventure time everything stays right where you left it / everything stays / but it still changes / ever so slightly, daily and nightly / in little ways, when everything stays the idea of like, after story and song lucretia is once again surrounded by her friends but there’s this tenseness she can’t quite overcome, especially in her relationship to taako… everything has shifted ever-so-slightly even if they’re all back together again… yeah.

ix. i miss you - kimya dawson i don't need to / but i want to / sing with you / 'cause i miss you i feel like this one is fairly self-explanatory but like, fuck, man, the overwhelming feeling of loss she’s got to be feeling throughout the podcast even with her friends standing right in front of her… the loneliness in being the only one who remembers… she just misses her family </3

x. pieces and pieces - the rough and tumble i have let you down, pieces and pieces. / i will make you mine again, pieces by pieces.  it’s about loving and losing and making mistakes and doing everything you can to fix them… acknowledging you let your family down and doing whatever you can to fix what you’ve done wrong!!! fuck!!!

xi. the ends and the means - robby hecht the ends / they justify the means, my friends / oh, the ends, they justify the means again fairly self-explanatory but the idea of the ends justifying the means and lucretia feeling so so deeply that what she did was the only solution and that one day the pain would be worth it… this one is more the main idea of the song than the lyrics but it still reminds me of her.

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part nine)

Prev. Part one

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Question,” Robin says putting the last sweater on Ozzy.

“For me or the cat?”

“You dingus. Did you end up getting tickets to Eddie’s concert in Indy Saturday?”

“No, and I feel really bad. My plan was to, like, show up outside so he thought I was there the whole time.”

“… um well that’s sad. But lucky for you, that’s not happening! Vickie’s sick and won’t be able to make it. So she told me to give her ticket to you.”

“I can't just take her-“

“Yes you can. And you are. Okay? Also this is the best outfit for him,” she said Turing Ozzy around in a tiny yellow raincoat.

“Sure. And are you positive Vickie is okay with this?”

“Yes, Steve,” she rolled her eyes, “She’s the one who suggested it.”

“Okay… well you better get home. Don’t you have a sick wife to care for?”

“She’s not my wife,” she whined. The funny part was he knew everything from both sides. He helped Vickie pick out a ring in March. She got too nervous and said she just needed to find “the right time”. In Robin’s case, he helped pick out a ring a year ago.

“Not yet because you guys are too dense.”

“Yeah okay, we’re done here. Be at mine at three and we’ll leave at six. Goodbye,” she said walking out of the door.

“Uh huh love you too.”

After the big realization that Eddie may or may not like him back, things have been different. He’s been happier. Less mopey, but also simultaneously sadder in anticipation to see him again. He’ll see him next Saturday and then after two weeks, he will be back. Permanently.

~~~~~~~~~

It was Friday, and Steve was panicking for many reasons. For starters, what if Steve does something wrong? Messes up. What if Eddie doesn’t like him back and he does something stupid and ruins their friendship forever? He needs to do something. Something to ‘wow’ Eddie.

He thinks back to the other day when he painted random objects. He found a small gift bag to put his gifts in. He put the ring tray and the guitar pick inside.

Hm. There is no way this is enough. I mean sure, yeah, it's the thought that counts, however… go big or go home right?

After an hour of thinking, shopping, and thorough consideration, he had gotten 3 more things. He knew Eddie’s two favorite things were d&d and music, so he felt he should include things that represent them. He started by making a mixtape. It included songs that Eddie loved and songs that he hated (aka Steve’s favorites). He also threw in some songs that had meaning behind them. Songs that reminded Steve of Eddie. Songs that just had good memories attached. Eddie will probably make fun of him for his song choices, but he knows he’ll secretly love it. At least he hopes so.

The next item was a customized set of dice. They were red, black, and a little bit of gray. They almost perfectly matched the pick that he wore around his neck (Jesus this dude is going to drown in guitar picks).

And now we’re on the last (but CERTAINLY not least) gift. Steve needed something to be the cherry on top. When he went out shopping he spent hours looking for something. He knew what it would be when he saw it. $175 later, he had it. It was a thick silver ring with a heart on it. Yes, yes, it was indeed very corny and Steve knew that. But he didn’t care. Instead of the heart having a bow, it had a dagger going through it (it felt kind of dark, but it’s Eddie were talking about). Now while that was a top tier gift, it wasn’t good enough, he deserved more. So Steve paid an extra hundred to get an engraving on the inside. It said ‘HERO’ with bats on both sides of the word.

Second step: clothing. Now normally he would just throw on whatever felt right in the morning, but this was no normal event. He set out a new pair of black ripped jeans that he did not buy just for this occasion. He looked through the stack of new band tees that he got at the mall. After 30 minutes of debating, he chose the Dio shirt. He saw the pin on his vest (which of course, he was also going to wear) and it had the most color. He topped it off with a pair of doc martens Robin had insisted on buying to match hers.

Next step: pep talks and panic attacks. It’s going to be fine. Everything will be perfect. But what if-

Last step: sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Swipe, swipe aaannndddd… done! After applying his (he will admit it now) makeup, he spent another good 15 minutes checking himself out. I mean yeah, not for him to be, like, super egotistical buuttt he looked amazing. And for once he hoped Robin was right. Well not literally, he certainly did not wish an aneurysm upon Eddie, but he did want a positive reaction. So for now he tried to rush out of the house. He checked for everything at least five times. Keys: check, wallet: check, gift: check, and most importantly Ozzy: check. Steve was going to just blast the music to ‘prepare’ himself (let’s be honest he would have turned the volume up four notches), but Ozzy would have gotten mad and he didn’t really want to deal with that. Fortunately, he didn’t make a sound the entire ride.

After he gathered his things and walked up to their door, he was greeted by Vickie. “Ozzy!” she said cheerfully reaching out for the cat. She sounded completely fine. Not a hint of illness in her tone nor her face. She must've noticed what he was thinking immediately, “Oh um,” she cleared her throat and fake coughed. Like very sadly fake.

Just then Robin sneaked up behind her, “hey Steve,” she said looking between the two of them.

“You little bi-” he started but was interrupted by a fit of giggles from the girls. “Why?”

“Sorry,” he glared at her, “sorry! I mean it. But let's be honest you would enjoy yourself way more than I would there.”

“But-”

“Nope. No arguments. You are going whether you like it or not. Plus, you need to shoot your shot,” she winked while imitating a basketball player.

“Ew, gross,” he rolled his eyes, “never do that again. But thank you”

“Of course, now go help Robin. She’s been staring in the closet for an hour.”

“Hey!” Robin shouted, “it has not been an hour… maybe 45 minutes at most! But yeah I do need help so c’mon now.”

He went to the spare bedroom quickly to drop off his bag and the gift, then ran to Robin’s. He briefly glanced through her side of the closet before picking out an outfit. Say what you will about Steve, but when given a style, he has a great fashion sense.

“Great! Perfect! Now follow moi,” she said, handing him (more so throwing it at his face) a makeup bag. She sat down at her vanity and smiled. “What? Stop looking at me like that. It’s not my fault you're better at it than I am!”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, raising his hands, “I feel honored.”

He got about halfway done before Robin started again, “How did you get so good at this anyways?”

He sighed, “short story or long?”

“We have hours.”

“Okay, so I was about seven, I think, and my parents just decided to start trying the whole neglect thing,” Robin gawked at him. Okay maybe not funny, “But they knew I was still a little kid so they hired a babysitter. Stephanie. They switched babysitters about every other month, until I was eleven-ish. She was the only one who was actually nice to me. They had been gone for about a week when she decided it’s a lot of work to drive back and forth, so she just started to stay at the house. And I should mention that Stephanie was the me of the ‘70s.”

“A total slut?”

“I am not a slut! …but yeah I guess,” Robin snorted, “stop moving! So anyways, she was on dates constantly.”

“Steve, that is the textbook definition of a slut.”

“Shut up! So one time I was following her around just watching her get ready for the date. And then she started curling her hair, and ,of course, doing her lovely makeup. So I started asking about it, and she ended up doing mine. That was the reason my dad fired her by the way. I loved it though. It made me feel like a different person. One day I asked if I could do hers and… I definitely did it. She ended up going on the date looking like… Frank-n-furter on steroids. The guy got one look at her and left.

“I just started practicing after that. On her, myself, and even Carol. So yeah. Now we’re here.”

“That wasn’t really a long story.”

“Yeah, but it was uninteresting.”

“I don’t think so. I thought it was sweet.”

“I guess,” he glanced at his watch, 4:49, “we have about an hour, what shall we do?”

“We shall go get something to eat. There’s a new diner downtown. It supposedly has, like, no wait time.”

“Are our outfits diner appropriate?” he said, gesturing at himself.

“We’re in Indianapolis, Steve,” true.

“We should probably get going then.”

“We shall,” she stood up and bowed down, holding out her hand.

“Shut up,” he said, grabbing her hand.

For a product of Indiana, the diner wasn’t that bad. And yeah, the service was fast (but a little too fast). They ended up going to the venue extra early. There were already hundreds of people there. Keep in mind that the concert started at 7 (it was currently 5:32). They started to walk around the general area of the arena. They giggled as they saw a group of girls that were jumping up and down discussing their massacre crushes on all of the members. (“Ooh Steve look out, you might have some competition”) They spent the remainder of their time, sitting against a wall, gossiping. “I knew I never liked Julie. She was always oddly obsessive over things. I was also friends with her ex at a random summer camp, waaayyyy to good for her.”

“Thats kinda what I thought. To be completely honest, the principal hates her. She's probably going to get fired soon.”

“Good,” he face randomly lit up, “Oh. My. God. Steve! I forgot to tell you!” Robin gasped grabbing onto Steve’s hands.

“What?”

“Nance called the other day. It finally happened!” she shrieked

“What happened… oh. Oh my god really?” he immediately knew what she was talking about. Around ‘89 all of the older teens/ young adults all started placing bets on when they thought Will and Mike would get together. (Nancy and Argyle: 2-4 years, Jonathan: 2-4 months, Eddie: 10-13 years, and finally the winners Robin and Steve: 6-8 years)

“Yes! So we won! What does that make the ‘queer count’ now?”

“Too many.” From their knowledge the count was around 7 (assuming yes, Eddie was gay) but it was most likely way more. They looked around and saw that everyone around them was walking inside the arena now. They followed them and after about 10 minutes of waiting in line, they were inside. And oh my. It was huge. Their tickets were for the general admission, so he grabbed onto Robin's arm as he tried to push his way to the front of the crowd. They managed to make it and held onto the metal barrier like their lives depended on it. They were not moving no matter what happened. Now they just had to wait. Again.

“How y’a feeling?”

“…fine? Why?”

“Oh no reason. Maybe that your husband is finally coming back from war and you get to do something else besides staring out the window in self pity,” she said, clasping her hands over her chest, before immediately grasping back on to the barrier.

He rolled his eyes, “Weird analogy, but no. I feel fine. I mean, I’m more excited for the two weeks to be up. He’s only going to be here for two days.”

“Sure, but still. I’d be bouncing off the walls if it was Vickie.”

“Yeah, but you’re Robin. We are not the same.”

“I feel like that was an insult,” she turned to face Steve, “how much longer?”

“About twenty-ish minutes,” Robin groaned and buried her face into his shoulder. They stayed just like that (minus the constant “time?”) until a group of people came out to test and prepare a few things on the stage. 6:53. At this point neither of them were standing still. Most of the lights were starting to turn off when the staff walked off the stage. 7:00. “Ready?”

“Maybe?” She said, grabbing onto his arm. Then just like that, there they were. More specifically Eddie. Eddie was back. Eddie was here. The whole crowd started to go wild. If they were this loud, wait for the music.

Eddie walked up to the main microphone, “Feels good to be home,” again, insanity erupted from the crowd, “okay, I assume you guys know the drill by now, so tonight is my dedication. I’ve decided to dedicate this concert to my best friend, Steve,” the band all gave him disapproving looks. Oh wait.

He turned to look at Robin, who was already looking at him, “That’s me!”

“That’s you!”

“So yeah,” Eddie continued, “uh he’s been there for me when I needed it, and if I don’t stop talking I’m probably going to cry. Anyways love you Steve and let’s get this party started!” Steve chose to ignore that comment for the time being. Robin decided otherwise, grabbing his shoulders and jumping up and down.

“Don’t have a chance my ass,” He went to shush her, but the music did that job for him. Yep. Loud. It was amazing though. He was completely mesmerized by the entire performance. Especially the last song. It was a lot softer, he liked it. But then he really listened. He immediately knew the meaning. It was beautiful. How could Eddie never tell him about this? It was perfect. He remembers the whole conversation that it was based off of too. It was just because of something dumb Dustin said that set him off. He told him every last detail of his life that day, and that’s where the infamous Invisible Man sprung.

Before he knew it, it was over. “That was amazing,” Robin said gawking at him, “but we should definitely talk about how he-”

“Later. But, agreed. Worth the migraine, ten out of ten.”

“Well, let’s go find your man,” she winked at him. She was so weird. But it’s not like he didn’t run around to the back to find him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next

UHH FINALLY???? Took me long enough. I am so so so so sorry abt the delay. If y’all didn’t see the post, my metal health declined for like a singular day and then I just kinda gave up with motivation for a bit. But then I did finish, and I went to copy it to paste it here and I deleted the whole thing. But I do think it was for the better bc this is way better then it was. But yay? I just now realized it’s kinda long. I wrote like the majority of it yesterday and today sooooo kinda rushed. I also only reread it once because I feel horrible for not posting. So sorry if it sucks. But y’all liked the incorrect quotes so I’m glad for that. I really do want to personally thank every single one of you. You reading means the world to me. I could not be happier. And the first part is also now up on AO3! I’m going to wait til the end of the fic to post on there. But yay! Hope you guys enjoyed!!! Comment or reblog if you want to be tagged!

Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflowercreator @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 (<<special thanks to you for helping me a bunch throughout this fic <3)@fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog @briceslayed @youaremylobster @juststeddiebrainrot @pr3ttyb0yindie @scarlet-pandrian @drips-from-breaking-bones @plasticcrotches

[ninacarstairss]

hello cece my beautiful wonderful beloved soulmate <3

i hope you have been well and looking after yourself! i don’t want you overworking yourself 😭 but it has been two days since i have come back from my trip (i have been exhausted plus i had work and uni to catch up on) so now i am going to sit down and tell you about my trip!! please grab a cup of tea and a snack while you read :)

so i went to sydney again, and i had a much more enjoyable experience this time around. i think it was because i knew what i was getting into, and i stayed in the exact same place, so it was all familiar to me.

although i did try to use the public transport this time, instead of ubering everywhere, and the buses were so bad, but the trains were INCREDIBLE! they were double decker and the back support moved so you could have a single row or two rows of seats face each other??? SO COOL

anyways, me and my friend caught the train to the airport at 4am in the morning 😭😭😭 (and i finished work at 12am!!!!) to get our flight. once we landed in sydney, my friend wanted to get merch from the early presale stand outside the arena and we were outside in 30 degree heat FOR TWO HOURS, with our luggage. good news, my birthday is coming up and my friend didn’t know what to get me, so he bought half my merch 🤭 bad news, i’m ginger and i get sunburnt in two minutes, so think about two hours… the worst thing is we had an umbrella for sun protection, but my right arm and the back of my neck was out so they were FRIED. i’m currently peeling like a reptile but worth it

we got some food from maccas because we were dehydrated and getting heat stroke, and then checked into our room after we managed to get our stuff. we both ended up napping in the afternoon, which we were both surprised about, because i had my phone in my hand still attached to the charger next to my bed and he still had his genshin impact loaded up onto his ipad 😭😭😭

unfortunately the place i wanted to take him to for dinner, the really good japanese place from last time, was under renovation, so we had dinner elsewhere but we had such a good time the rest of our trip

because we went to see stray kids, a kpop group, we had a lot of activities we could indulge in. they had this thing called a cupsleeve event, where someone in the fandom designs a cupsleeve to represent a kpop idol’s birthday, group anniversary or in our case, coming to the city. and i got so many freebies! we went to this kpop store that doubled as a cafe and the drinks were so good! i bought way too much but i have to remind myself that i can’t get it at home 😔

we also went to the biggest bookstore i have ever seen in my life! it took up a whole floor of the shopping centre and it was brilliant. it had books upon books, categories after categories. they even had an entire chinese and japanese section! i also spent a lot of money there BUT my best find was the entire completed infernal devices manga trilogy!! it’s so beautiful and such a rare find, i grabbed it immediately. i couldn’t find the tmi graphic novels though, but they have them on their website, so i might order them in :)

alright, the main event! the concerts! so i went and saw the kpop group, stray kids, two nights in a row! it was amazing. i was and still am a huge fan of their work, but especially because they got me through a really hard time in my life and really were my serotonin while i was at school 😔 i wasn’t allowed to see them when they first came here four years ago (parents: maybe next year, they’ll come! *next year being 2020.*) so i feel like i finally made up for it.

me and my friend also matches outfits! we did black and green (the concert colours) on the first night, and red and white on the second (to match the stray kids colours). i wish i could send you photos, we looked so slay 🤩

i do not have one concert video without me screaming the lyrics (yeah the korean ones too!) in the back. but i don’t care, it was so fun, i had a blast. and it was even better because two of the members of stray kids were from sydney and they just made it feel more homely :) do not regret how much money i spent on them or the sleep i lost at all! i’m so glad i can slowly start to give myself the experiences i missed out on as a kid/teenager :’)

anyways, enough about me! how have you been? what have you been up to? how is simba? 🥺 i adore you so much and i am enclosing this letter with a warm hug <3333

hello nero my amazing perfect beloved soulmate <3

yay i’m so happy to finally hear about this trip!!! i just made myself a cup of tea and brought out some biscoff cream!!

how was the catching up part?? did you manage to catch up without exhausting yourself too much??

nero that’s so great!! i think that having a familiar surrounding is always helpful, and staying in the same place makes it all less scary somehow. i’m really happy it went much better!!

NO WAY THEY HAVE THOSE TRAINS THERE??? they look so cool!!! i’ve seen them on instagram once and i was so jealous of every city who had those trains!! you can literally choose if you want to sit alone or have company and that’s so cool!!! it’s basically a buildable environment!!! i’m getting way too excited about this lol

so you only had like three hours of sleep?? 😭😭😭😭 and you even had to stand in the heat for hours 😭😭😭 but yay!!! merch!!! that’s a really great birthday gift!!! (also when is your birthday??? only if you want to share of course <3)

anyway merch is so amazing and so expensive. this has got to be one of the best presents ever!!! even if it means you’re skinning like a reptile now lol at least it’s just two small spots instead of your whole self 😂 but i get the struggle. i’m not ginger but my skin is so light i always get sunburnt in 0.5 seconds too. definitely not fun, but worth it for some merch :D

that was probably a really fun situation to wake up to, but you both deserved a nap for catching a bus at 4am!!! especially since you had only a few hours of sleep after work!! at least you were rested enough to really enjoy the trip!!

oh no 😭😭 i’m still dreaming about that place!! i went to a my favorite japanese restaurant in my city a few days ago and i really wanted to try that beverage you told me about but i was driving so i couldn’t 😭 i hope this other restaurant was really good too though!!

no way!!! nero this is all way too cool!!! i’m so happy it was so fun and there were so many things to do!!! also this cupsleeves event sounds so cool!! i’m so happy nero, you’re making my day just by telling me about all these freebies and amazing drinks!! and you know i’m always gonna be the little devil on your shoulder telling you that spending money is good and you deserve all that amazing stuff :))

the tid manga trilogy??? how is that even possible omg you can’t find that anywhere!!!! i’m so jealous, i wanna live in this bookstore now 🥺 it’s got to be so amazing!! (you always find the best bookstores, i had no doubt there would be one in this letter too and i was so excited to read about it!!) and let me know if you do order the tmi graphic novels!! i’ve been trying to collect those too hehe

the fact that *next year* was 2020 is so painful. but you saw them two nights in a row!!! that’s amazing!! and it must have been so good to see them after so long, after they’d been by your side in a really tough time 🥹 i’m so happy you got to finally see them live!!

also, the matching outfits?? I LOVE THAT!!! i bet you looked so slay!!! that’s literally the best idea for what to wear to a concert!!!

nero i’m so so happy for you!!! you’ve made my whole day, i’m not even joking!! i’m so happy you’re finally getting to enjoy trips and concerts you couldn’t before!! and this one really sounded so perfect!!! also the videos with you screaming at the top of your lungs to every song are literally the best. i love it when i rewatch a video from a concert and i can hear myself screaming and crying and dying more than i can hear the band or the singer. it just makes me live all those memories and those amazing feelings again!!!

the money spent on this is totally worth it!!! and you can sleep now, uni can wait lol really nero i’m so happy this trip was so good!!! i’m so happy for you!!!

i’m good!! i got three days off from work this week so that was great, and i started to reread chain of iron so that i can reread chain of thorns right after :) i miss them so much already 🥲

anyway i just booked a trip for may, because a friend is coming to visit me and i’m gonna be off work for two weeks so i’m really looking forward to it and now i just wanna skip work and plan the itinerary 😂 and i want to book more trips too. which isn’t great because my bank account is already crying and begging me to stop buying stuff. did i tell you i got the illumicrate edition of chain of thorns with the alternative dust jackets? yeah so my bank account still hasn’t forgiven me for it :,)

simba is also doing really good, he’s eating a lot and sleeping a lot as usual 😌

also, ever since you told me about the rina sawayama concert, and because you always talked so much about her, i kinda started listening to her music a lot more and i’m obsessed with some songs now!!! i adore her style so thank you for this new obsession :>

i’m enclosing a warm hug for you too and a little bouquet of flowers <3

[tampatom12]

your top 5 favorite Gronkady moments?

Anon, this question was both extremely easy and also extremely hard to answer!!!!

Each of these moments means so much to me. They define who they are to each other and furthermore, show how much they truly love one another. 🥺🥹🤧💞

But first, before I get into the moments...!!

If you're new here to my blog or to the NFL fandom in general and don't understand the term "Gronkady":

Gronkady is the ship name for Rob "Gronk" Gronkowski and Tom Brady, two people who used to play for the New England Patriots and then the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

As you will see below, their history together is legendary!!

Now, onto the moments themselves. 🤩🥳🔥💯💥

I have decided to start with number five and count backwards to my ultimate Tom and Rob moment.

I also have four other bonus moments in mind that are just as important, but simply didn't make the Top Five overall...let me know if y'all wanna find out what those are!!

So now, without further ado, here are my

Top Five Gronkady Moments!!!!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

5). The first time they met!

Rob has told this story multiple times to a variety of sources over the years and he always tells it the same way:

He was in the locker room, taping up his ankle. Tom came over to him, held out his hand and said, "Hi, I'm Tom."

Instead of saying, "Yeah, I know," or worse, not saying anything at all, Rob said back, "And I'm Rob! Nice to meet you, man!"

This simple interaction between them may not seem like much, but it was the conversation that stated it all, even though at this point, they still had to formally begin building their relationship on and off the field.

✨✨✨

4). Rob's video edit/tribute that he posted back when Tom retired for the first time!

✨✨✨

This video contains so many wonderful highlights of the public time that they spent together!!

It also features key but underrated moments between them. (Like when Rob says hi to Tom when he's in the parade and is *so* happy that Tom got number six!)

Additionally, it a visual representation of what their bond has been like over the years!

PLUS!!!

The entire thing is set to Queen's "You're My Best Friend"!!!!!

Here it is for you to see for yourself on Rob's Insta page and here it is on YouTube.

(((I highly recommend looking at his caption on the Insta post!! ⬇️)))

✨✨✨

3). The time that they were at a Boston Red Sox game together!

This short clip is so damn chaotic in the best possible way. It is simply SO. THEM. through and through!!

We also got this amazing photo out of that specific day!! :D🥺🥹🤧😍🥰

✨✨✨

2). BAD BOYS FOR LIFE!!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tom Brady (@tombrady)

One of the things that I think about the most when it comes to iconic couples is how they all seem to have a little catch-phrase that is theirs and theirs alone.

For Tom and Rob, this catch-phrase is Bad Boys for Life.

It all started back in 2019 for the 2018 season after the Patriots won the NFC championship game against the Kansas City Chiefs.

Tom posted this to his Insta page and though I didn't see it when he first posted it because I wasn't at all a fan of his, when I did finally see it, something about it changed me. Them being all showboaty but also silly *and* alone yet together like this is the stuff that fanfics get written about. 💗💓💞

And real quick, just to clarify, "alone yet together" means that they weren't around anyone else in that video but that they were still together as a couple!!

✨Anyway, now that that's cleared up welcome back to the feature presentation!!:✨

So furthermore, the chosen song and it's lyrics are super important for that moment.

Aside from the key one of "Bad Boy for Life", there's also "We ain't goin' nowhere; we can't be stopped now".

Realistically, I know that this is a reference to the entire team and how they all can't be stopped now/aren't going anywhere now that they have won everything except for the Super Bowl at that point.

However, it is worth reading into and noting that Tom and Rob are the only ones who made a video like this.

They could have chosen anyone else to do that with and yet...!!! They decided to exclusivelymake that video with each other. (((Insert the screeching cat emoji, AHHHHHHHH emoji, all the Kermit heart emojis here)))

Not only that, but it is important to me to note that Tom is the one who is holding the phone/camera and is doing the recording. He clearly *wanted* to be in that moment, making a firm memory of his time and opportunity with Rob.

Of course the editing/song part of it all came later, but I don't feel like Tom would have let his social media people choose that song if he didn't feel that it fully fit the moment. He wanted that song to be a part of their legacy just as much as he wanted the world to see them together like how they are within that video.

✨✨AND!!!✨✨

They remade it in 2021!! 🤩🥳🔥💯🙌🏻💞:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Tom Brady (@tombrady)

✨✨So now, the moment you all have been waiting for...

Here is my ULTIMATE Gronkady moment!!!✨✨

1). Absolutely everything about them together Tampa!!

As I'm sure all of you can tell based on my url alone, I LOVE the Tampa version of Tom SO MUCH.

I've said this before but I don't care; I'm sayin' it again:

Tom was very much a difference person in Tampa than what he had been in New England. His work ethic and overall beliefs/philosophies were the same, BUT he also began to show the public more of his true, easy-going personality from the moment that he arrived in Tampa. He clearly felt free to have more fun than what he ever had before and he wasn't afraid to show it.

And it's not like he didn't have lots of fun in New England because I know that he did.

But there was just something about him moving to a year-round sunshine-filled climate that set off who he had secretly been all along and who he wanted to be moving forward.

Basically, he still worked hard and had just as much fun in Tampa as what he had in New England, but Tampa offered him up a new chance to be more easy-going and super goofy at times!!

✨All of that having been said, to get back into the Gronkady of it all:✨

As we all (probably) know, Rob retired for the first time in 2019, after he and the Patriots had won the 2019 Super Bowl for the 2018 season. He left New England and went on to do retired football guy things while Tom suffered through one of the Patriots worst years ever.

Now, fast forward to March of 2020. Tom has announced that he's leaving New England and is going to, out of all of the teams within the NFL, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

A month later, in April of 2020, Rob announces that he is officially coming out of retirement to play with Tom on the Buccaneers.

Alright, and now...

This is the part of the story that everyone still isn't so sure about because both men have had conflicting takes on it.

Not conflicting bad, just conflicting in the sense that for some reason, they don't want the public to find out the behind-the-scenes details of what was really said between them.

They want to keep that part of it private/to themselves, and as much as the nosy person in me needs to know what went down for real, I also completely respect them saving a part of this story just for themselves. 🥺🥹🤧💗

All of the above having been said...!!

While the main theory about how they reunited is still up for debate, what many think to have happened is that Tom asked Rob to come back and play with him. Did they have discussions between each other about all of this beforehand? Probably. Will we, the general public, ever know for sure if this was the case? Most likely not.

At the end of the day, the bottom line is this:

Rob was fully in retirement, happy to be free of all of the responsibilities that come with being an active NFL player, when all of a sudden, his non-brother best friend and bad boy partner for life decides to leave New England and head south.

No matter how it happened or what they may or may not talked about before hand, Rob literally came. out. of. retirement (!!!!!!!!!!!) just so that he could play football with Tom again. 🥺🥹😭🤧😍🥰🧡🤍

Why else would he have done that if he wasn't at least a little bit in love with Tom?!

The game had always been very hard on Rob's body; he had so many injuries throughout the first part of his career. 😔😥

By all means, it would have made sense for him to simply stay retired while rooting Tom on from the sidelines.

But he didn't. He wanted to reunite with "the only quarterback he ever wanted to play for" in a place that was far away from New England, both geographically as well as culturally.

Them reuniting in Tampa proves how deep their bond is and how much they admire, trust and respect each other.

Additionally, aside from playing together again, they got to make some extremely cute and fun videos together!!!

This video series are a big reason that got me to see and understand Tom and Rob as more than "Tom Brady (™️)" and "Rob 'GRONK!' Gronkowski".

It is important that they agreed to make this video series in the first place and is a true testament to their commitment to have fun and be free with each other in their new home. 🥺🥹🤧💞

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

So there you have it!!

My Top Five Gronkady Moments!!!! 🤩🥰🥳🔥💯💥🙌🏻💗

I hope that this gives you a good idea of what Tom and Rob are all about and how much they mean to each other!! :D

Also, thank you so much for your patience!!! I received this ask back in November and meant to answer it then but then got distracted by other life things. 😔

I definitely appreciate that you asked about them though, as it has given me an opportunity to talk about some of my favorite people!!! 💞

So once again, thank you, anon!!

We can definitely talk more sometime if you want to!! ☺️

[somestuffbysomebird]

He's absolutely smitten, he'll never let you go - Asmodeus

Inspired by: Absolutely Smitten -- Dodie

(A/N: This was from 2021, and was sitting in my drafts, it's old but completed soooooooo yea!)

Summary: You like someone, but you have no idea how they feel about you, so using your brilliant deduction skills, you attempt to figure it out. (Too bad you kept missing the signals till they're right in your face.)

Aka: That one time the human tried to find out if a demon liked them

Tag(s): Fluff, that one scene from Given popped into my head halfway through writing this and I ran with it, Asmo seeing a chance and just gunning for it

---

Asmodeus

It's not like you doubt Asmo doesn't like you, that'd be obvious.

You just don't think he's held you in any special regard compared to his fans.

I mean, look at him, he's always surrounded by lesser demons, and most of them have probably spent longer than you chasing him, maybe there's even someone out there that's his type you know?

How could a human even compete with that?

But there's no time start like the present right? You're not backing down from a fight, especially not this one.

Lucky for you, a talent show is coming up, and the prize just so happens to be 2 tickets for a 3-day paid trip to a hotel resort.

This was your chance, all you need is to win those tickets, and get Asmo to go with you.

Mission: Capture Asmo's heart, begin!

With a determined heart in place, you first need to capture your first objective: Asmo's cooperation

Sure, you could go and participate in this competition yourself, surprising Asmo with the tickets, but this is a competition where one can show themselves off, now wouldn't that be something right up the Avatar of Lust's alley?

You're about to invite Asmodeus to participate, and, as it turns out, he's already signed up for it, and he wants you to help him out!

How could you say no?

As you two prepare for the competition, he plans out many different ways to perform, from singing to dancing, to even thinking about having a one man beauty pageant (again).

At that point you should remind him that the time limit per participant isn't enough for a runaway show, so he opts for singing instead.

You decide to help him with the music production and practice on the guitar, although he insisted on keeping the lyrics a secret from you.

You don't notice the subtle glances he gives you, and the way the mood of his performance lit up whenever you were around, regardless of the presence of anyone else.

To be honest, you were so wrapped up in the competition you didn't pay much attention to how he stares at you while you concentrate, the way he gravitates instantly to you, away from whatever he was doing before, whenever you step into the room.

During a certain afternoon, as you both were taking a break, Asmo glanced at you and smiled.

"Hey MC, when it's my time to perform, just keep your eyes only on me, okay?"

At was the start of his performance, the hall was swammed with lesser demons cheering for him, but his eyes were scanning the crowds for your face.

He didn't mind being the centre of attention at all, but the longing in his heart desired only your attention.

When his eyes finally met yours, he felt his heart soar, and as the strings of the guitar were strung, he finally started his serenade...

It was only after the entire performance, as you were swallowed by a waving, roaring (and crying) crowd, you realised something.

Thoughtout the entire performance, Asmo's gaze had never left yours.

You head backstage to congratulate him, and you see him seating down, panting and holding a bottle of water, the high from performing still settling in.

As you approach him, a congratulations ready, he launches himself towards you-!

"MC! How'd you like it? I wrote it with you in mind!"

Asmo is nuzzling his cheek in the crook of your neck, looking up at you again, you can see a hint of fatigue in his eyes, beads of pespiration still glistening from his forehead. His smile wide and wide eyes reflecting the white ceiling lights.

You didn't see the incoming peck until it hit you quite literally in the face. On your cheek. With his lips.

"Hmm~ Sorry, you just looked so cute, I just couldn't resist~"

Well, the way this is going, seems like the tickets are just a bonus now.

You aren't going to let him get away with that, right?

[vajigglejjaggles]

I can be both soft and hard at the same time. Just because I’ve shown you parts of me, doesn’t mean you understand the whole. I’m complex. I will hide the parts of me that I feel are too ugly to be seen. If all I’ve shown you is my soft side, it’s because I didn’t want you to see how destructive my thoughts, words, and actions can be.

But maybe I shouldn’t hide that part of myself. I do want to be loved, fully, one day. All of me, good and bad.

I love wide open spaces, forests and prairies. Anywhere in nature that makes me feel “home”.

I cry, a lot. I cry when I watch commercials about babies and animals. I cry over the state of the world. I cry over injustice. I cry when I feel genuine happiness, like a cloud hovering over me letting lose, whether happy or sad. I cry when I feel something just a little too much.

I love wild flowers, not cliche bouquets of roses. I love the smell of honeysuckle on a hot summer day because it reminds me of my childhood, before the reality of the trauma I grew up in set in.

I love horses and dogs. I love the smell of a puppies breath.

I love music, and how it makes me want to dance uninhibited, completely ignoring my lack of rhythm and balance.

I love the pain of a tattoo or piercing needle, because it helps the pain I feel inside escape without the result being an ugly scar I have to explain to whoever sees me naked next.

I love thunderstorms and standing barefoot in the rain, letting it wash away all of my intrusive thoughts.

I love riding down back roads, windows down, music drowning out my voice as I all but scream the lyrics that resonate with my soul.

I love dressing up, pretending like I’m classy and put together all of the time when in reality, I’m a chaotic mess of tangled hair in jeans and a plain tshirt.

I love my family even though I wish me were less dysfunctional & tighter knit. I envy the daughters that have good relationships with their parents and siblings.

I love to laugh. I’ve spent so many years not laughing, I will take any and every opportunity to let that hideous laugh erupt from my chest. When I’m left wheezing, gasping for air is when it’s the best.

I love fire, watching it burn wood to ash.

I love 90s R&B, country, alternative grunge, rock, indie, pop, hip hop, rap…but neo-soul will always have my heart.

I love ambient lighting, soft glows..easy on the eyes and mind.

I love driving around the city late at night, when the streets are mostly empty and I can imagine what life would’ve been like if I had left my hometown after graduation instead of following the path I found myself on.

I love love. I haven’t experienced it in two decades. Not the passionate, requited kind anyway. I love learning someone. The good, bad, and in between. The way they smell, the way they breathe when they’re at peace. How they like their breakfast, or coffee. What songs they listen to when they’re happy, sad, or in between. Their love language, so I can love them in whatever form they best receive it. Their dreams and passions, the things that make their eyes light up when they think no one is watching. All of the things that make them sad, so I can be the buffer between them & whatever it is that takes their smile from their face.

I love kissing. Passionate and full of emotion. I spent well over a decade accepting that I would only ever be kissed on the cheek - like some acquaintance. So when we agreed to divorce, I promised myself I would never indulge in anything that lacked passion and feeling ever again.

I love traveling, learning about and experiencing new cultures and ways of life.

I love talking, deep think pieces, not surface level chitchat.

I love tequila and the way it blocks all of my inhibitions.

I love twilight, fireflies, and the smell of hot pavement after a summer rainstorm.

I love books. Transporting to other worlds, feeling every emotion with the characters. The way the pages smell, the way the spine cracks when you open it. I used to read multiple novels a day, it was the most peaceful escape.

I love skating, riding horses, riding bikes, wading through a creek, watching rollie pollies, laying in green soft grass and making out shapes in the clouds.

I love showering in the dark by candlelight. It’s relaxing & intimate.

I love when someone tells me something reminds them of me.

I love my son. Some may think I’m a helicopter parent who isn’t allowing him to grow up but in reality, I’m just trying to preserve his youth and innocence for as long as I can. I’m lucky enough to have family who would do the same & make sure he is okay if anything ever happened to me. But, I don’t want him to look back at life and wish he hadn’t experienced “grown folk” issues so soon. I will support his innocence for as long as I can, because our children deserve to JUST be children while they can. I’m going to foster and feed his individuality, give him the space to figure out who he is and not who society wants him to be, defend him & protect him. It’s my job as his mother to make sure that I am not sending out another broken man into the world. He will know that emotions are healthy, be secure in who he is so that he doesn’t allow the opinions of others to influence his character or personality, and make sure that he knows how worthy he is. I cannot expect him to be good to others if I don’t show him that he should be good to himself first.

I guess I’m more than what I allow people to experience.

[archangel-azi-fell]

I had to call to get him off the lease. He hasn't yet, and he certainly didn't say anything when he talked to them the other day. He said we would talk about it. What's there to talk about? He chose a dog that was growling and snipping at me when I would be near Ellie.

So I finally laid into him. His problem with his dad is that everything his dad has is at the courtesy of the women in his life. "He hasn't worked an honest days living in his life, everything he got was from his wife." Well, actually, I've seen your dad work on cars and other things. He buys, sells, and trades things. He fixes up cars for his family, fraction of the cost. He has helped us out more times than I can count. And I always was more than willing to help him in return.

But his boy. Lol, he was waiting tables after we got together. He had a massive heart attack about 10 years ago. And I never had a problem with what he did for money. I was a phone psychic and then worked fast food. I don't care about money. I actually felt better with him doing things like that, too. Or even not at all. But he didn't help around the house much, but complained to his daughter that i wasnt doing anything after work to help. I was working 8-10 hour days with 3-4 people in a busy fastfood restaurant during the pandemic on top being severely anemic (6-8 iron levels- healthy is 12+) i was paying the bills and for food. I didn't even ask him to help until they made me put him on the lease. He would make dinner, but he would complain about it every night.

I had to hear over and over how this wasn't his apartment and all the things wrong with everything I tried to do for him. He's driving my car right now. And I have to make a payment on that, too. But he cant even be bothered to help me get out in drive or go to the food trucks.

I took him to see Dead and Company in 23. After I tried to plan a trip to see both them and The Cure. I wanted it to be an awesome weekend for and just the two of us. He complained about the venue, so instead of Chicago and seeing both, we went to Indy and saw Dead and Company. That was even after he wadded up the poster I bought that was his favorite song lyrics and broke the frame into pieces.

I tried really hard to make it work. I really did. I love his kids, but I'm so worried for them. Leon loves them and if he had the means to truly take care of them, I know he would. He wants nothing more than to spoil them. Steph and Adrian aren't dating, fine, I get that. But she's going to lose that house and she's not doing anything to prevent that but she's complaining about it. She's lied about me and us helping. But I still helped her again and I would again for those kids. But he won't talk to her about HIM, even though the guy before was abusive and I told him that, too.

I've lied but not about important things. I have never tried to make him think bad things about anyone that didn't have a little merit. Like i didn't say anything about him until after the girls talked to me.

I never intentionally held anything from him that was damaging. I told him when I wrote that letter that someone didn't read lol. I told him when we talked. I even asked if it was OK. And told him that he would be right not trust me. (Lol that was before the comment where I went damn it, this again) and I tried to be respectful. I didn't want to do anything that hurt, plus I didn't shut the door. I was hoping that he would do something that showed he cared. Instead we got 4 months behind on all the bills and he brought a dog home and used what little money we had to pay for things the dog needed. He spent enough money on himself over ellies birthday weekend that we could have taken her somewhere or did something at the very least. She got a doll and he kept saying we will take her to Chicago to the aquarium.

I don't want him. I loved him, but he's done nothing, but let me down. And I even forgave him for not being there for me in the hospital. I understood, the kids needed him there. But I was alone and scared. It felt like he wanted me to die because when I came home, even though I couldn't lift ellie or really do much on my own, he treated me like crap. He spent 5 days in jail for public intox. He's lucky he didn't get our kids killed because he got behind the wheel. He had been arrested in April for drinking and driving! But I forgave and I pushed for him to go to AA. For that, he called me jealous when I asked for him to talk to me, because I was begging for his attention. I even avoided talking to other people besides Rocks. He was supposed to be my confident and I got called jealous for asking for that. I almost died and I was scared. I was right back in the alone with someone right there. But I didnt want to drag someone else into my hurt again. I still feel awful for doing that in the first place. Which is why I tried to apologize to D in the first place. I felt terrible. And when he told me what was going on, I didn't want him to lose hope. I truly wanted him to be happy. But I was also sick and suffering. The stuff I went through with heph was really awful and I felt awful because Prometheus was there through it. And I was having night terrors and I couldn't and didn't want to be touched, especially like that.he was helping with the kids and I couldn't even be there for his "needs" outside of paying for everything. It was part of the reason I was working so hard.

Then Mom got married, and I lost F. She helped save me, and I couldn't save her. I did try to give them what I could when I could. Ellie got really sick and I almost lost her a few times. But nothing I did was good enough for him.

I complained every once and a while about things to people and stood up for him because I know he's capable of more. I believe in him, but I don't understand why he thinks or needs to tear me down.

I didn't even really tear Heph down, not like that. I broke his things from time to time. It would make me mad that he found more value in the things that he owned that Nad and I. And then, Ellie and Armin. I hope he's taking care of Hunter. And I hope he's not slinging in such a way that is reckless or to kids. Nad, I'd rather him get things from Heph, but I'd rather just give him a way to have what he seeks without those things.

Cons sent me a message and we were talking. He said something like I saw your profile and I just felt like I had to talk to you. I bet you did sweetheart. I asked him if he was happy. It was like the first thing I did when I was sure it was really him. I just wanted him to be happy. He is and was and will always be a wonderful person with a heart of gold. He deserves that happiness. She does, too.

That's all I ever wanted to do was find love for everyone. Give them babies when they want them. Play with children and love my own.

It was odd to come back and see so much suffering. I did this and I didn't mean to. He was just trying to put me back together.

And all those poor kids. Everywhere.

I will do what I have to do. Just please give me strength and my boys by my side. They're all weirdos but they're no where close to the demons they were made out to be. The real demons are Musk, Trump, Putin, JD, etc.

I do not and will not stand for hate. Hating a people for their religious beliefs or the color of their skin or who they love or parts they have or don't.

I think that's part of what was confusing and upsetting to me, then. You're my father's people and you're telling me that I'm not my Fathers daughter? That man is above woman when I came straight from you. But when I read the Bible, this was not our teachings. I don't even think those were the original teachings. I don't know where they got those ideas.

We ran around here for years before that popped up. Even back home, you always told us to respect each other and always help. War will happen, but be honorable. Take care of your enemies, too. You can't make friends without building bridges to get to them first.

I didn't know war. I didn't understand war. I still don't. I don't understand what is going on at all.

Contagious disease, I understand but cancer and genetic disorders are weird to me. It's like their people are evolving in reverse. Then they have no respect for the arts! That one is strange. I get why he demonized music. lol that's one heck of a jealousy trip. Did he forget that i am music? I sat in the middle of the city nearly every day. I would sit and read or draw or just research, listening to adar's song. It was like i was home again. That's why I went to their city, too.

You know I remember sitting with the elves and I told her that I could hear the moon. And she was like "Child, the moon talks to you?" She calls me sister and tells me to be strong. Mags had nearly the same reaction when I told him that I could hear the mountains song and the lava flows. She told my dad, but he was already gone when I was there with Mags. I even told him how to open the door to the old forge.

I was the one that trapped the curse into the tree. And knowing what happened when the magic started to fade. I wish there had been another way, a better way.

All the people that I hurt on purpose or because I had to, drove me crazy. Because I felt it all at once. It was such a shock. I'm always connected but I wasn't like I should have been. I don't blame him. I don't. It was reliving thousands of years of pain all at once all the peoples and mine. And then alcohol was the only thing I trusted to numb it. And I bet I sounded crazy. I know i do now. And that probably only made it worse because it's hard knowing everything and trying to tell people things and no one believing you, let alone the one person supposed to.

Which is why, even after all of it, I'm afraid of people. I'm afraid that I'll give them everything only to be alone. Because that's all I've ever known. You try to save a lost people and get murdered for it and it wasnt even them. It really drove me crazy trying to argue that with that one not Christian but super Christian? That was weird. Or trying to explain that I was born in the spring. And how can you claim my mother was a virgin but deny that I'm a girl. Or that a winter birth for a baby then, could have been a death sentence and God wouldn't put their child at risk like that. Or even the spouting of Adam and Eve when historically people even knew then that you shouldn't marry and have babies with close relatives. Then, it was mainly "royal" families. Either you believe in science or you don't, you can't pick and choose facts to match your faith. It should be the other way around. Science first and faith second.

When we figured out what was going on with the wells, I knew I needed to put a stop to it.

Its no wonder there's so much wrong. He was consuming their souls and then messing with genetics mixed with without magic some people are suffering greatly.

I just wanted to fix things. I just wanted the chance to give everyone to have a happy life.

[pixel7777]

The Downside of Daring Rescues: Chapter 6 - Shadowboxer

Chapter 6: Shadowboxer

Darla and Astarion are still circling each other, all flirtation and sharp edges, but who’s really holding the reins here? One thing’s for sure—Operation Cure-the-Vampires is off to a rocky start. 🩸🎻

Read here below the break or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please reblog or reply here, or comment and leave kudos on AO3! Every comment means so much to me!

Note: the image is the cover of the Fiona Apple album cover for the song that inspired the title of this chapter. If you're wondering whether or not to spend the time listening to the song, just get a look at how perfect even a snippet of the lyrics are for the whole simple-plan-fallout storyline (the whole song is perfect):

You made me a shadowboxer, baby I wanna be ready for what you do And I've been swinging 'round me 'Cause I don't know when you're gonna make your move

Oh, your gaze is dangerous And you fill your space so sweet If I let you get too close You'll set your spell on me

So darlin' I just wanna say Just in case I don't come through I was on to every play I just wanted you

From Darla's Journal, written in flowing script with occasional ink blots and doodles in the margins

Day 1 of Operation Cure-the-Vampires (working title):

Sage Evendur seemed interested when I mentioned "theoretical" research into vampirism, but his eyes lit up WAY too much at the "specimens" part. Cross him off. Not risking my new... associates... becoming dissection projects.

Master Delwind shows promise—she actually asked intelligent questions about vampire spawn autonomy after Cazador's death. Plus, she has access to the restricted section. Worth pursuing, but carefully.

Note to self: Need better cover story than "asking for a friend."

Crossed out lyrics, with revisions:

His fangs were sharp, his heart was cold

A predator's tale, as stories are told

Revised:

In shadows deep, a tale unfolds

Of chains that bind and stories untold

A dance of fate brought him to me

Now freedom rings, wild and free

(Ugh. Still needs work. Less tragic? More... something? It's way easier writing songs about people who aren't going to be there when you sing it… giving you side-eye.)

The look on Astarion's face when I offered my wrist! You'd think I'd suggested he eat vegetables. "My dear, one doesn't simply... drink from a wrist. How gauche."

But he took it anyway, after all that fuss. Even managed to make it seem elegant, the pretentious ass.

Had to bite my lip to keep from laughing when he tried to make it all seductive and mysterious. Please. That angle is burned, vamp-boy.

He's actually funny when he's not trying so hard to be dangerous. Still playing games, of course—I catch those calculated looks when he thinks I'm not watching. But two can play, and I'm rather good at games myself.

Note to self: Remember he's still dangerous. Just because he's amusing doesn't mean he's safe.

(But it is fun to watch him squirm when I don't follow his "seduction" script.)

Margin Doodle: A tiny vampire with exaggerated fancy clothes and swirling cape

***

Astarion's blade whistled through the air, meeting Thal's parry with a satisfying clash of steel. The courtyard's torchlight caught the sheen of sweat on his face as he spun away from their counter-attack, his feet finding purchase on the worn stones.

"Not bad for someone who spent a century as a bootlicker," Thal said, their lavender eyes tracking his movement.

Astarion laughed, the sound sharp and genuine. "And you're quite skilled for someone who looks like they learned to fight in a circus." He feinted left, then struck right, forcing Thal to dance backward.

The drow fighter's practical leather armor creaked as they shifted stance, their own blade a silver arc in the darkness. "That spin you did earlier—the one where you went under instead of over? Clever. Would've had me if I hadn't seen the tension in your shoulder."

"You're very observant." Astarion pressed forward, testing Thal's guard with quick, precise strikes. His muscles burned pleasantly with the exertion, a reminder that his body was his own now, to do with as he saw fit. "Though I notice you favor your right side when you're planning something particularly nasty."

Their blades locked, and Astarion found himself grinning at the pure physicality of it. No magic, no manipulation—just skill against skill. Thal didn't waste words on empty platitudes or unwanted sympathy. They simply fought, offered criticism when warranted, and matched his pace without complaint.

"Getting cocky?" Thal asked, breaking the blade-lock with a move that nearly sent Astarion sprawling.

He recovered with preternatural grace, using his speed to slide past their guard. "Always. But I can back it up."

The cool night air filled his dead lungs, and for once, Astarion didn't think about scholars or cures or the terrifying weightlessness of freedom. He simply moved, blade singing, body remembering skills he hadn't had the chance to properly exercise in many years.

The sharp sting of steel caught Astarion's forearm—a lucky strike from Thal. Blood welled, then vanished as the wound sealed itself. Instinct screamed at him to hide the supernatural healing, but it was too late.

A monk in brown robes had paused their evening walk to watch the sparring match. Their eyes widened at the sight.

Thal's blade swooped in again, drawing Astarion's attention back to the fight. "That healing ring is doing its job nicely. Want to sell it?"

Astarion caught their meaning instantly. "Not a chance. Do you know how hard these are to come by?" He matched their casual tone while his mind raced. Had the monk bought the explanation?

"Worth a try." Thal pressed forward with another attack sequence, but their movements had lost their earlier fluidity. Every muscle in Astarion's body tensed as he tracked both his opponent and the monk's presence in his peripheral vision.

Their blades continued to clash, maintaining the appearance of an ordinary training session. But the joy had vanished from the exercise, replaced by the familiar weight of secrecy and survival. Astarion recognized the controlled fear in Thal's slightly too-wide stance—the same instinct to flee while forcing oneself to act natural.

The monk lingered for another excruciating minute before continuing their evening walk. Only when their footsteps had completely faded did Astarion allow himself to exhale. Astarion and Thal exchanged loaded glances and sheathed their swords.

Astarion followed Thal through the darkened hallways, their footsteps echoing off stone walls. His mind still raced with possibilities of discovery, cataloging escape routes and contingency plans—old habits that refused to die.

"Sorry about that," Thal muttered, breaking his spiral of thoughts. "Didn't mean to cut you."

Astarion nearly stumbled. The words took a moment to process—someone apologizing to him? For a minor scratch? He blinked, caught between confusion and an unexpected warmth in his chest.

"I—" He cleared his throat, forcing his usual poise back into place. "Quick thinking with that healing ring explanation. I appreciate it."

Thal shrugged, the gesture barely visible in the dim corridor. "Next time we should probably use practice blades. Takes some of the thrill out, but better than explaining away supernatural healing to every passing monk."

Next time. They wanted there to be a next time. Astarion's lips curved into a genuine smile before he could stop himself. He quickly masked it with his typical smirk. "Worried about scratching my perfect skin again?"

"More worried about explaining to Darla why her pet vampire got burned at the stake." Thal's dry tone carried no real bite. "Besides, you're not half bad with a blade. Be a shame to lose a decent sparring partner."

Astarion followed Thal down the corridor, quietly scoffing at pet but not sure what to say next. This sort of conversation—whatever it was—wasn't something he'd done much of before. The silence stretched between them, broken only by their footsteps on stone.

"Can't picture you just... hanging around here," Thal said finally. "Helping with research, playing nice with scholars." They gestured vaguely at the library's towering walls. "Seems like you've got talent with a blade. And maybe a taste for the fight."

The observation caught him off guard. Astarion's fingers traced the pommel of his sword, remembering the pure satisfaction of testing his skills without fear of punishment. But what was the point of acknowledging such things? He'd learned long ago not to want what he couldn't have.

"I'm not sure what to picture myself doing," he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. He covered quickly with a practiced smirk. "The possibilities are rather limited when one bursts into flames at sunrise."

They reached Thal's door, and the fighter turned to face him with an oddly knowing smile. "Seems to me you've already done more than a few impossible things. Why start limiting yourself now?"

Before Astarion could form a response, Thal slipped into their room, leaving him alone with that outrageous statement.

Astarion lingered in the corridor, Thal's words echoing in his mind. Why start limiting yourself now? As if it were that simple. As if the world hadn't taught him exactly where his limitations lay.

And yet... here he was, sparring with a drow fighter who'd covered for him without hesitation. Living in one of the most prestigious libraries in Faerûn. Being fed regularly without having to hunt or seduce or scheme. He had cash, a wardrobe he didn't need to patch every night, and rings on his fingers Thal could pretend were magical.

He traced his fingers along the stone wall, appreciating its solid presence. If they found a willing scholar, they could build something here. Something stable.

Wasn't that enough? After centuries of torture and degradation, shouldn't basic safety feel like an impossible luxury?

Movement caught his eye—Darla, heading toward her quarters in a swirl of bright fabric. It was his turn tonight (stupid schedule).

Astarion's lips curved into a familiar smirk, his philosophical state of mind evaporating in an instant. He'd just enjoyed one sparring match—time to indulge in another. After all, what was the point of freedom if he couldn't have a little fun with it?

***

A rhythmic knock echoed through Darla's quarters. "My dearest, sweetest bard, your devoted admirer has arrived for his appointed tryst."

Darla rolled her eyes, but couldn't help grinning. "Enter, oh pining heart. Though I warn you—I'm dreadfully occupied with important heroic business." She shuffled some papers on her desk for effect.

Astarion slipped inside, pressing a hand to his chest. "Two whole days without your radiant presence. How cruel you are to keep me waiting." He draped himself across her bed with theatrical grace. "I've composed sonnets of longing. Shall I recite them?"

"Please don't. Your poetry's terrible." Darla spun in her chair to face him. "And I saw you at the team meeting, two hours ago."

"Those fleeting glimpses only torture me more." He sighed, examining his nails. "To think you've reduced me to scheduled appointments, like some common merchant."

"Would you prefer I pencil you in as 'afternoon delight' instead of 'feeding time'?"

"Much more romantic." Astarion's fangs glinted as he smiled. "Though I notice Dalyria gets the prime late night slots."

"She doesn't try to make every feeding into a seduction scene from a penny dreadful."

"I can't help my natural charm." He patted the bed beside him. "Come now, darling. Let's not waste our precious moments together."

"You're impossible." But Darla was already moving to sit beside him, pushing up her sleeve. "Just try not to get blood on the bedding this time. The washerwomen are starting to talk."

"You wound me, darling. I've never spilled a single precious drop." Astarion pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"No, you haven't." Darla met his gaze, ready with another quip—but something made her pause. There, just for a heartbeat: a flicker of tension around his eyes, a slight stiffening of his shoulders. Her stomach did an odd little flip as realization hit.

For all his sultry poses and bedroom eyes, he didn't actually want her to give in.

"Well then." She cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they sat. "Best get on with it before we lose the moment."

Astarion's fangs sank into her wrist with practiced delicacy. Darla tried to focus on the papers scattered across her desk, the way the oil lamp caught dust motes floating through her room—anything but how he used his tongue to control the blood flow, drawing out each moment. Not distracting at all. Definitely not making her pulse quicken in ways that had nothing to do with blood loss.

But her mind kept circling back to that tiny tell she'd caught. If he didn't want sex, what was this elaborate game about? He already had guaranteed meals and their help with the scholars. She felt heat rise in her cheeks as she realized how presumptuous she'd been, assuming that his flirtations, obviously lacking in genuine affection, at least meant genuine desire.

So what did he want?

The question nagged at her as Astarion's tongue traced lazy circles against her skin.

"That's enough." Darla pulled her wrist back too quickly. Her pulse still raced—damn him for being able to hear that—but something in Astarion's posture made her pause.

There it was again. That flash of relief as he released her, though his expression remained playfully wounded.

"Already? And here I thought we were having such a lovely moment." But he didn't press closer or try to recapture her wrist. Instead, he glided to her desk and began shuffling through her papers with exaggerated interest. "My, my. What's all this? Rewriting your song? How… sweet."

The physical distance he put between them felt deliberate. Darla watched him, pieces clicking into place. Every flirtation, every sultry comment—they all pushed right up to the edge without crossing it. Like her own tendency to play along while keeping things safely in the realm of banter.

She'd assumed he was being your average rake, looking for an casual lay and enjoying pursuit. But maybe...maybe he just enjoyed the game itself? The back-and-forth without expectation?

No, that wasn't quite right either. There was something else going on beneath his carefully crafted persona. Something that made him maintain this delicate balance of seduction and retreat.

"Those are private. Not ready for critique," she said, but her heart wasn't in the protest. She was too busy trying to decode the puzzle before her.

"Everything about you is private, darling." He winked, but kept the distance between them. "Except to your devoted admirer, of course. Darla Daring…" he read off the page. "That must be a stage name."

"Guilty as charged." Darla smoothed her sleeve back down, grateful for the familiar rhythm of their banter. "A girl needs a bit of mystery, don't you think?"

"Oh come now, you can't leave me in such suspense." Astarion's fingers traced the edge of her papers. "What dull, ordinary name could you possibly be hiding beneath such a dazzling nom de guerre?"

"That's for me to know and you to wonder about." She leaned back on the bed, finding her footing in their usual game. Better to let whatever revelations she'd stumbled upon settle before examining them too closely. "Besides, what would you do with such dangerous knowledge? Write it in your diary with little hearts around it?"

"I would never be so pedestrian." His mock offense carried just the right note of playful indignation. "Though I might compose an ode. 'To She Whose True Name Remains Hidden' has such a lovely ring to it."

"Spare me. Your poetry's bad enough without adding melodrama to the mix."

Their familiar teasing carried them through the next few minutes, but Darla caught herself watching more carefully now—noting how he maintained that careful dance of advance and retreat, how his flirtations never quite crossed the line into genuine proposition.

When he finally moved toward the door, she felt oddly relieved. She needed time to think, to sort through what she'd noticed.

"Until next time, my nameless muse." He caught her hand, pressing cool lips to her knuckles in an entirely proper courtly gesture that somehow managed to seem terribly improper.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Darla let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her hand still tingled where he'd kissed it—and wasn't that just perfect?

She'd been an idiot. A complete, utter fool.

Every touch, every heated glance, every sultry comment—it was all calculated. But not for seduction, not really. She hadn't actually been considering sleeping with him (well, not seriously, anyway) but it stung to know he hadn't either. Back at Fraygo's, it had seemed he was up for fun with her...

"Oh gods." Heat flooded her cheeks. He hadn't wanted her then either. That had been Cazador's compulsion, forcing him to hunt. To lure. To—

Her stomach lurched. She'd been preening over his attention like some tavern girl with her first admirer, when all along...

"Idiot," she muttered, dropping her head into her hands. She'd thought she was being careful, keeping their flirtation safely in the realm of playful banter. But she'd missed something crucial. Something dangerous.

What did he really want?

Not sex—that much was clear now. Not just the blood either; their feeding schedule took care of that. Not even manipulation for its own sake, though he certainly enjoyed the game.

No, there had to be something else.

The sting of wounded pride faded under a wave of cold realization. She'd been so focused on protecting herself from his obvious tactics, she'd missed whatever his true objective might be.

And that was exactly what he'd wanted.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary18

9/22-23/2023

listening to brainiac before bed.

i did 5 songs today but only 4 are like things i redid, i got a new short song down, exciting. have to wait a bit before i can listen to it and think about lyrics for it i think, it's fresh and i'll want to mess with the guitars too much i think.

i just spaced out listening to the guitars in 'this little piggy' i'm so fucked right now. thankfully the process of fixing everything will be over soon, hopefully, probably, and hopefully i'll fall in love with everything.

i should think about reverb a little, if the record needs it or not. i really avoid it cuz it feels cheap, not like it sounds bad, i mean i feel cheap using it cuz it used to be such a crutch for me i feel like, when i was making jungle and stuff.

thinking about cheapness, and jungle i guess, apparently people spend huge amounts of money getting synths to make "ps1 jungle" now, i didn't ever consider that. it's massively fucked up, all the music i've made i've never spent a dime on, making everything i've done super cheap, which i think is sort of cool. it's fucked up to me how people will spend huge amounts of money on equipment without ever really putting anything out with it. i just don't understand having really nice things and not really doing anything outside of putzing around with them. it's not like it would become okay if they did make anything though i guess, if someone spends 2000 dollars on a synth to imitate a sound that came from a sample pack that a japanese dude used to put a song together in a day, they are wasting their time. it's also fucked up because, at the time at least, in 2019 when i was making this stuff, it felt basically liberating to make that stuff because it let you be cheap, now it's gotten super particularized. i can't really touch breaks anymore, not because of these people who i never considered until today, but more because so much mediocre breakcore is being put out, and so many people love sewerslvt, it makes me feel dire, and i decided to just give up i guess.

i went looking for old mp3s of my jungle stuff so i might put it here or something and instead i found a bunch of other old stuff. reminded me of how much i miss having access to my cousin's audio interface for recording bass and guitar.

here's some stuff from when i was trying to do guided by voices in 2021.

these kinds of songs are so fun to make. i'd like to do it again some day. it's easy to hear how bad i am at guitar, but i really did love playing at that time. i still do, i just can't record it, i just get tabs/ ideas out and transpose them to midi, so i'm basically playing fucked up hardcore only right now. or not that fucked up. i love octave chords, and then sliding up a note so it's two notes right beside eachother. i think that's such a pretty sound.

anyways. the current state of jungle makes me sad. guitar music has always only ever made me happy, even when i was sad.

what does it mean, what does it mean.

well it's not entirely true anyways. some guitar music blows and it pisses me off like all the sewerslvt adherents. some electronic music has only ever made me happy. i love everything at the end of the day and it makes me sick i guess.

it's 6 am! i spent all this time reminiscing about my old music, but i have new music, i have to keep its heart alive too. i want to keep every heart i ever found alive. i'm an awful doctor!!

okay anyways #byebye!!

[sarangbe]

everyone who knows sarang will tell you that he gets bored easily. some would say even too easily. he's a person who needs a lot of stimulation, a lot of action. one could argue that filming for next gen season two should be enough for him to be remain comfortable, but that's sadly not the case for him. this isn't the type of stimuli that satiates him. if anything, showing up to set each day has become painstakingly dull; humdrum monotony that he's getting tired of, even if there are more missions ahead of him to look forward to.

speaking of which, he's thankful to not be competing this year, but he sometimes wonders if he'd find being a competitor more thrilling. the stakes would be higher, at least. as a coach, his job is easier, to a degree. sarang was feeling immense pressure to be perfect before, and the realization of how dumb it was to pile so much unnecessary weight on his shoulders has freed him from those constraints. while he couldn't be more thankful for that, the stress he once felt has been replaced with devastating ennui, and he doesn't know if that's better or worse.

so far today, sarang's spent most of his hours overseeing the others as they practice, and for the better part of the last thirty minutes, his rosy gaze has been fixated on one of his teammates, song jaeyoung, or jay, as he prefers to be called. now, others may notice how long sarang's been staring at him and think that he's only being highly analytical of jay—capturing each lyric jay raps so he could provide necessary feedback—but they're technically wrong.

is he being analytical? sure—in a way he is, but it's not in the way an onlooker would assume. instead, he's merely appreciating how beautiful the other man is. there's something so delicate, and so symmetrical, about his facial features. his body line is just as impressive, too. while he's been rapping, sarang's been admiring the shape of his lips; watching them move and curl around each syllable he spits. however, when jay opens the door for sarang to give him criticism, the younger of them is thrown off-guard; blushing slightly as if he's been caught redhanded doing something bad.

"i'm sorry," he begins, voice a delicate, flirtatious lilt even if he's only uttered three syllables so far. "i guess i've just been a little distracted by how handsome you are..." the instant the words leave his mouth, he grins; his vulpine eyes curling upward to look even more mischievous. "so, i guess the answer to your question is yes—i have been having fun just watching you." with that, he winks, emphasizing his playfulness. "the truth is, i can't rap well, so i'm unsure if i should even be giving you advice. however, what i can say is that, with rapping, i find that it's all about attitude, and the message."

that's what he's heard anyway, and he decides to elaborate. "the song is about not wanting to get back with an ex-lover after they didn't appreciate you, or wronged you. they keep calling you, but you want them to stop. personally, knowing your rap style, i think you could do a lot with your parts. have you ever experienced something like the song is conveying before?"

soft.

he doesn't know what to make of @sarangbe, truthfully.

that's not necessarily a bad thing, in jay's opinion. he certainly didn't mean it in a manner that's negative. after the criticism and feedback dished out to him, and how they seem to dislike the way he goes about things in general; jay expected to be paired up with someone a lot more strict. hard and tight in all the wrong places, basically. a sucker for rules, someone who refuses to let loose and would force jay's head in the game. not in the fun way, though.

but that isn't exactly how sarang turned out to be. in fact, sarang can probably be described as the complete opposite of that. sarang is… soft, gentle. not the most coach material, not that jay would say that out loud. then again, sarang basically won the last season of next gen, so jay clearly doesn't know what he's talking about. either way, there's something to learn from sarang. he just… doesn't know what yet.

the other boy had been encouraging, though. which is another thing jay hadn't expected, because he thought he'd be hearing another onslaught of critical comments up until their performance. but even after jay had been practicing and rehearsing his lines in front of sarang, spitting his verses out like they're fire on his tongue, sarang had nothing bad to say.

"i can take your criticism, you know." jay informs, throat rather dry after repeating his lines over and over in an attempt to get it perfect. "i don't need any sugarcoating either," he adds. "surely there's something off you wanted to point out this whole time you've been watching and listening to me."

he turns to sarang, eyebrow raised. "or what, are you just having fun watching me?" he says in jest, not forgetting to add in the sarcasm to his tone.