#it's such a pretty song though; really heartaching

[voiceshearingyouloud]

My singing :)

[risriswrites]

Mary's Song

summary: bradley bradshaw is in love with his best friend and it takes them years to figure out how to tell each other how they feel. loosely based on taylor swift's song "mary's song (oh my my my)"

pairing: best friend reader x bradley bradshaw, fem reader

author's note: so this is my first time writing a fanfic and actually posting it anywhere. i'm actually really proud of it so if anyone reads it and actually likes it feel free to like and reblog :)

word count: 7.8k words

She said, "I was seven and you were nine"

I looked at you like the stars that shine

In the sky, the pretty lights

And our daddies used to joke about the two of us

Growing up and falling in love

And our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes

And said, "Oh my, my, my"

It was a sunny summer day in Santa Barbara, California. Carole wasn’t sure if it was going to be a good beach day with the temperature being in the mid 70’s. A subtle breeze could easily take that seemingly beach friendly weather and turn it into a frigid nightmare.

In the end the absence of clouds made her commit to packing up her beach bag, loading up the car, and dragging her only son to the beach to soak up some much-needed sun.

Their lives had changed since losing Nick. Even though five years had passed, the loss still impacted them every day. Thankfully, having Mav around softened the heartache a little.

Pete had given Carole a call earlier that week letting her know he would be in town on his “completely unnecessary” vacation. And after humoring him with some back-and-forth banter and mild guilt tripping, she was able to convince him to come to Santa Barbara for the week.

Carole had never known Mav to have a sister, so when he shows up with a seven-year-old girl in tow claiming it’s his niece, she’s a little flabbergasted.

“It’s just so hard for me to wrap my head around that I’ve known you for years, and never knew you had a sister! Let alone a niece.” Carole squints at him accusingly.

Maverick, who had decided to take full advantage of the California sun, was laying out on an old lawn chair Carole had brought out for him. Peering over his aviators at her he smirked, “I’ve gotta keep some secrets to myself, don’t ya think? Besides, my sister and I weren’t close until a couple of years ago, so there wasn’t much to tell anyway.” He deflected. He wasn’t going to tell Carole the reason behind the reconnection of the two siblings being the death of her late husband.

“Still, when you first brought her out here, I thought you had finally found someone to settle down with and had a kid. Albeit I would have been offended for not getting an invite to your wedding if you had decided to have one, but I digress.” Carole brought the bottle of water she packed up to her lips gingerly, sipping at the refreshing liquid. Turns out she had left the umbrella at home and the sun had taken no pity upon her mishap.

“Definitely not the case. You know how I feel about settling down and it hasn’t really changed since Charlie.” Maverick let out, breathing out a laugh in the process.

Carole rolled her eyes, pushing her sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose, “It’ll happen one day when you least expect it to Mav, I can guarantee you that. Can’t be the heartbreaker forever.” She huffed, glancing over to the two children currently chasing each other on the beach.

Pete followed her gaze and focused on the scene playing out in front of him; hoping to derail Carole from lecturing him about his past lovers.

“She’s gonna have him wrapped around her little finger before the week’s over. I can see it now” he smiled, nodding his head in the direction of the two kids. Mav watched on as his niece looked up at Bradley with a small pout forming on her face, seemingly disgruntled with the game after playing it for so long and is now trying to convince him to partake in something else.

With a soft smile and another roll of her eyes Carole leaned further back in her chair letting her eyes flutter shut, knowing her son was safe with Mav’s own eyes on him.

“I mean seriously Carole, they’re gonna grow up and end up disgustingly in love with each other. Mark my words.” His gaze never leaving the two kids who had stopped chasing each other; after Maverick’s niece had successfully changed Bradley’s mind.

Now instead, opting to dig a tunnel from the water to a little pit they had made further up the beach. Mav had overheard his niece calling it a “hot tub” but he’s certain that whatever they were making had no resemblance to one in the slightest. Bradley didn’t seem to mind though and had gone along with the small build anyway, glancing over to the seven year-old girl every now-and-then to see how she liked it.

Carole didn’t even bother with glancing up at the two when replying to Mav with a very sarcastic “sure Pete” and allowing herself to slip back into brief relaxation.

Oh My My My

*Nine years later*

I was sixteen when suddenly

I wasn't that little girl you used to see

But your eyes still shined like pretty lights

“Relax sunshine, you’re gonna be fine.”

“Bradley, I swear if you tell me I’m going to be fine one more time I’m going to throw the nearest object to me at your head.” You growled.

Bradley glanced at the scene in front of him, his best friend of nine years (and counting) sitting on the floor of her bedroom currently pouting angrily down at her latest grade, with the closest object to her being an old textbook. Cute.

You have terrible aim; he’ll take his chances.

“Sunshine” he breathes out. “I’ve told you before Mr. Greenwood is just a hard-ass who likes knowing his class is one of the most difficult to pass in all of high school.” Bradley sighed.

You let out another huff of frustration swiping a lock of hair out of your face, “I know, I know, it’s just so annoying. I’ve spent weeks preparing for this exam and the most I can show for it is a B-.”

“You’ve only got a month left and you’ll be out of there, don’t stress about it, you’re passing and that’s what matters.” Bradley reassures.

“Easy for you to say, you’re graduating in three weeks, leaving me behind at this poor excuse of a school. Who knows when I’ll see you again! You’ll probably move to another country to become a hippie, learn to speak a different language, and change your name to something obscene like Holden” you sputter out waving your hands around in the process.

Bradley scrunches his eyebrows and wrinkles his nose at the obscene set of words that just left your lips, “I’ll have you know I would not become a hippie.” He pauses briefly before continuing, “I’d be a musician, thank you very much.” Bradley mocks offence.

You finally glance up at him from your spot on the floor, almost instantly regretting that decision. He looks too attractive laid out on your bed like that, it’s almost unfair.

Bradley had filled out a little over the summer, rambling on and on about how he wants to be in top physical condition for when he starts training to become a naval pilot -like his dad had been and consequentially like Uncle Mav. Last time you looked over to him a mere two minutes ago he was laid out on your bed looking up towards the ceiling like it was some humongous puzzle piece.

Now as you look at him, he’s propped himself up onto his forearm; his bicep muscle making itself very apparent; supporting his body weight on it, while simultaneously leaning his head on his fist, gazing softly down at you. Stop looking at me like that or I swear I’m going to fall in love with you.

You visibly swallowed before casting your eyes back down at your paper lying on the floor beneath you.

“I like that you’re more offended by the job title than the name change,” she scoffs.

“Also, there’s no way you’d become a musician, I refuse to believe you possess such a talent.” You threw back, giving your head a shake.

Bradley scoffed before jumping into a spiel of how he’s “like a magician” when he’s on the piano. Lecturing about his many talents and capabilities in an attempt to pull you away from staring at that stupid piece of paper any longer.

A smile pulls from your lips before you let out a few giggles regarding his exaggerated so called “talents”.

Bradley perks up at this and fixes you with a teasing glare, “What are you laughing at? I’m serious! I'm one of the best pianists of all time! I even give Beethoven a run for his money.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do, given that Beethoven has been dead for over a hundred years.” You chortle, tossing your head back in another round of laughs.

Bradley raises his eyebrows in offence, “Oh now you’re in for it.”

You look up between your fits of laughter only to see an eighteen-year-old Bradley Bradshaw launching himself off your bed and tackling you to the ground.

Bradley immediately starts wriggling his fingers up and down the sides of your ribcage, knowing that you’re extremely ticklish, sending you into an uncontrollable amount of laughter. You push away Bradley’s hands a few times in futile attempts to get him away from you; throwing yourself around in the process, before abandoning that plan and instead trying to push at his chest.

You manage to hook your leg over one of his and give his chest a hefty push using all your weight to send him over your shoulder. He grabs ahold of your arm in the process, bringing you with him. Both teenagers now laughing uncontrollably.

Bradley is currently holding both of your arms captive against his chest, laughing at your adorable attempt to try and tickle him. And you joining in because, why did you think you were going to be able to out-muscle him?

You look down at Bradley, stopping your assault and just enjoying the moment. His head is tossed back on the hard-wood floor, eyebrows scrunched while his eyes remain tightly closed pinching at the sides, his mouth is open letting out little breaths of laughter. He’s so beautiful. Your laughs have stopped now, just staring down at him with a soft smile.

Bradley notices your laughs have stopped and chooses that moment to look up. Oh. You’re peering down at him with a smile on your lips and a look he can’t quite decipher in your eyes. Your eyes are so pretty. He gives you a sheepish smile back. It’s too quiet now, and when did his hands move to your waist?

At that moment a loud, shrill pinging rings in the pair’s ears throughout the room. Making both teens scramble away from each other in a mess of “Oh I’m sorry” and “Shit” as your limbs get caught up in your hurriedness to get away from a moment neither of you know what to do with.

Bradley crosses the room in a few long, hurried strides successfully turning the obnoxious alarm off.

He huffs out a breath in mild relief. With the alarm off, your room is once again blanketed in quiet, which funnily enough he’s not sure if he prefers the silence or the pinging of his alarm. He turns to look at you and decides then that he definitely prefers the alarm over the silence. You’re standing at the opposite end of the room; your hair is a bit of a mess and you’ve got a subtle blush to your cheeks making your skin glow a little differently. Fuck.

He swallows, deciding to break the silence “I gotta go. Gotta be up for school tomorrow.”

You nod your head peering down at the floor afraid to look into his eyes, “Yeah” you breathe out. A beat passes, “Yeah of course. It’s late, I’ll walk you out.” You ramble out, before running a hand through your hair, hoping to compose yourself quickly and pray he doesn’t pick up on the massive crush you have on him.

You’re swinging your bedroom door open and stepping out hurriedly before Bradley can even grab his keys and wallet. He takes a breath once he’s got everything and forces himself to follow you out of the room.

You didn’t make it far without him, just a few steps down the hallway of your room before he’s right behind you again.

Before he knows it, you’ve made it to your front door and you’re swinging the cream colored door open for him. “See you tomorrow?” you ask as nonchalantly as you can, throwing him a tight smile as if it were a bone.

He steps over the threshold of your home, putting a little space between the two of you. Something’s different. He glances up at you, eyes wandering over your facial features. It’s still you, but something’s different.

He gives you a soft smile shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans deciding to let that thought go for the night, “Yeah I’ll swing by to pick you up.”

You glance over at the blue bronco currently sitting in your mom’s driveway. Your eyes quickly flitting from him to the bronco and back to him before you give him a genuine smile, “Sounds great!”

He gives a short nod before he’s pulling you away from the door into a quick hug, giving your waist a squeeze, then begrudgingly letting you go. Bradley turns away from you then, and starts walking down the gravel of your driveway.

You watch from your front door, making sure he gets into his truck safely. Leaning against the doorframe as you call out, “Let me know when you get home!”

He looks back as he opens the door smiling, shaking his head with a short breath of laughter leaving his lips, leaning his weight onto the door tilting his head up as he shouts back to you, “I’ll call you!”

And then he’s climbing into the driver’s seat, starting the car, reversing out of your driveway and speeding down the road to get home to his mom, who no doubt is wondering when her son will be home; he said he’d be back by ten and it’s almost twelve in the morning.

You watch him speed off before deciding you should really close the door and stop watching after him like he’s going to turn around and come back.

With that thought in mind, you grip the door and shut it softly. Leaning against it in hopes to not wake your mom; at least that’s what you’re telling yourself, who’s got a shift at the hospital in a few hours.

“Bradley leave?”

You nearly jump out of your own skin at the sound of your mom’s voice. “Jesus don’t scare me like that! At least make a noise or something before talking, I swear I almost shit myself.” you huff. “But yes, he just left, and I really need to get ready for bed sooo… goodnight.” And with that, you’re quickly making your way back to your room to start your night routine.

Your mom watches you make a quick escape before rolling her eyes and laughing softly to herself.

Oh My My My

*Nine years later*

“I’m just saying, there’s no way you guys didn’t date back then.” Jessie emphasizes, punctuating her statement by pointing an accusing finger in your direction, slurping her strawberry milkshake obnoxiously.

You roll your eyes, glancing away from your friend to look through the window at the traffic piling up outside of the small diner. “Nothing happened Jessie” you huff, mumbling an “unfortunately” under your breath. Jessie doesn’t notice, thankfully.

“Well, you guys had everyone else fooled in school then. I’m pretty sure Kimmy was going to blow a gasket when she asked Bradley to go on a date and he shot her down because of you.” She smirks, swirling a fry into her milkshake before biting into it.

You huff in annoyance, “Okay that was like nine years ago first of all. Second of all, I had nothing to do with that! He could’ve easily gone on that date. He knows I would’ve been fine with rescheduling our weekly movie night.” you follow your statement quickly by sipping from your own milkshake, trying to avoid having this conversation with Jessie for what seems like the billionth time.

“That’s my entire point! He could’ve if he wanted to! But instead, he turned her down to spend time with YOU!” she all but shouts.

You tuck into yourself, scanning the diner to see if anyone was paying attention to Jessie’s loud proclamation. No one’s looking; to your relief, so you quickly return your gaze to her. “Look, Bradley and I have been best friends since we were seven. I’m pretty sure if he had any romantic feelings for me, he would’ve acted on them by now.”

“Where is your loverboy anyway?” Jessie asks, quirking a perfectly arched brow.

Another frustrated huff leaves your lips, Jessie was never the type of friend to let something go. You grab at a fry from your own plate and casually dip it into the pool of ketchup before tossing it into your mouth, “I think he has training today.” You punctuate your guess with a shrug of your shoulders, “I don’t really know, I’m not his keeper.” That’s exactly where he is. He texted you this morning saying so himself.

“Why? Do you want to go on a date with him?” you tease.

“God no! He’s not my type, you know that.” Jessie scoffs.

“Mhm, sure he’s not.” He’s not. You’re just tired of Jessie trying to make something out of nothing. False hope sucks, so reversing the accusations onto Jessie allows you to have the upper hand.

Jessie flicks a strand of wavy black hair out of her face, takes her last sip from her milkshake, then fixes you with a pointed look, “I know you want me to drop it so I will. But please just think about it. There’s something there, and I’m ninety-five percent sure if you were to kiss Bradshaw the next time you saw him, he wouldn’t pull away.”

And with that, Jessie scoots from her side of the booth, grabs her check, and proceeds to walk up to the cash register to pay for her meal, and to flirt with the cashier of course.

With a small smile and a shake of your head, you grab your own check and start to scoot out of the old booth.

Once Jessie has secured the cashier’s number you pay for your meal and you both exit the diner pausing outside to give each other a brief hug before parting ways to your respective vehicles.

Once inside of your car you immediately lock the doors and glance briefly down at your phone. A new message from Bradley has popped up.

Bradley: “Hey sunshine, I’m going to be finishing up here in two hours, do you want to meet up at the hard deck for some drinks?”

Your heart jumps at the idea of seeing Bradley later. Fucking traitor.

You: “Hey!”

You: “Yeah I’m down for that! What time are you thinking?”

You put your phone down in the cupholder of your car and pull out of the diner’s parking lot. Halfway back to your apartment your phone vibrates inside of the cupholder. Knowing that it’s probably Bradley has you going a little over the speed limit to hurry home.

Once you’re safely parked in your designated spot, you grab at your phone, unlocking it to see what he’s said.

Bradley: “7:15?”

You quickly send a quick “that sounds good” text before hopping out of your car and making the trek up to your space.

By the time you’ve ascended the elevator to your room and locked the door behind you, your phone has vibrated again.

Bradley: “Perfect, I’ll come pick you up.”

With a few hours to kill you kick off your sneakers and jeans, throwing on one of your favorite oversized shirts and make yourself comfortable on the couch.

A power nap is just what you need in order to liven yourself up to go out to the bar with Bradley. So, with that thought in mind you set an alarm for an hour and click your phone off, slipping under your old throw blanket and drift off to sleep.

Only to be awakened by the blaring noises of said alarm, what feels like only seconds later.

Sure enough, it’s been an hour. You huff in annoyance throwing the blanket off your face and take a few deep breaths before forcing yourself to sit up from the couch and make your way to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for tonight.

The little yellow sundress you bought a few months ago peeks out from your closet and you quickly pull it from its hanger before you can talk yourself out of it. Discarding your oversized shirt onto your chair you slip the sundress over your head and pull it down to settle at your midthigh.

Glancing at your reflection in the mirror you decide a touch up of your makeup and fluffing of the hair should be enough for tonight.

Once you’re finished, you glance over at your phone to check the time, pressing on the screen making it come to life. There’s a text from Bradley telling you he’ll be at your place in five minutes – four minutes ago. Your eyes go wide, and a panic runs down your spine before you’re scrambling around your room for a pair of shoes to go with your dress and where the fuck did you put your purse?

A few knocks land on your door moments later and you curse under your breath deciding to just go answer the door and forego searching for your purse. Only to see it sittin pretty on your kitchen island.

Swiping the forsaken piece of faux leather off the counter you stride towards the door, opening it in one swift motion.

And there he is.

Bradley Bradshaw in all of his sun kissed glory, hands in his jean pockets looking down your hall before he’s turning to look at you.

He sucks in a quick breath, barely audible, but you heard it.

Fuck, stop looking at me like that.

“Hey” he breathes out.

“Hi” you smile.

A second passes by, both of you just looking at each other before you come out of your daze and decide you’ve been staring for too long.

You breathe out a laugh and step out into the hallway, “ready to go?” you ask.

He takes a small step back from you as you turn to lock your door, giving his head a shake before fixing his gaze. Once you’ve turned yourself back to face him he has an easy smile on his face grabbing your hand in his, leading the way down the hallway, “Just waiting on you sunshine.”

You roll your eyes, he can’t see it, but he knows you’ve done it as soon as you quip out, “Coming from the guy who sets aside time to groom his barely-there pornstache I’ll take as much time as I please, thank you very much.”

He hits the “down” button for the elevator before turning to you and settles his hands on your hips pulling you a little closer to him. Your breath hitches at the action and your eyes widen for a second before you’re forcing yourself to appear normal again, unbothered.

“So now you’re hating on my stache,” he fixes you with a questioning look.

You stick your chin up a bit in defiance, “yes.”

You say it so confidently he almost believes you.

“Oh really? Then who was the one protesting against Nat, just last week; about the ‘stache’ being one of my best features? And how I can’t shave it off,” he raises an eyebrow.

The elevator button dings allowing you a brief escape from his grasp and question. Sidestepping out of his hands into the elevator, you press the “ground floor” button before looking back at him cocking your head to the side smiling, “Wasn’t that Jessie?”

He jumps into the elevator before the doors close and scoffs out a laugh nudging his shoulder against yours, “No sunshine, pretty sure that was you.”

“I don’t recall saying that.” You hum back.

“That’s because you were too busy downing those fruity drinks of yours.”

“Okay first of all, it’s called a fuzzy naval, second of all, it’s not my fault beer is disgusting, I don’t even know why you guys drink that shit.” you scrunch your face at him.

The pair of you step out of the elevator, Bradley once again slipping his hand back into yours, “Don’t worry sunshine, I won’t judge you.”

You decide not to comment on that and just let Bradley guide you to his blue bronco. Seriously, that car just screams Bradley Bradshaw and you’re not sure if you like the car so much because of the way it looks, or if it’s just him.

“Bradshaw, you have got to let me drive her one day.”

Bradley opens his passenger door for you and keeps a hold on your hand, helping you into the bronco. Totally unnecessary but you’ll allow it. One side of his mouth quirks up in a smirk, “in your dreams baby” and then he’s shutting your door and jogging over to the driver’s side.

That’s new.

Before you know it, he’s reversing out of the guest parking space and turning onto the main road to get to the bar of choice, the Hard Deck.

He’s got his window down letting one arm lean out of it and the other has a grip on the steering wheel, looking completely relaxed and carefree. You turn to look out your own window, leaning your head back against the headrest letting the soft sound of ABBA playing through his speakers to be the only thing you focus on.

Once he’s parked, Bradley has already made his way to your side of the vehicle and is opening your door, before you can even reach for the handle. He offers his hand to you again and you take it as you step down and out from the bronco.

You smile at him mumbling out a quick “thank you” before letting his hand go again and start heading towards the entrance of the Hard Deck. He follows behind you quickly grabbing the door for the both of you and letting it swing closed behind him.

The Hard Deck is a little crowded tonight, so Bradley decides to make his way in front of you to make it easier for the both of you to head towards the bar. This time you slip your hand in his as to not lose him in the mass of people.

Bradley’s heart jumping at the feeling of you reaching for him this time.

Once you’ve reached the bar he grabs Penny’s attention, waving her over to him.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite troublemaking duo.” Penny smirks. “The usual?” she quirks a brow.

Bradley smiles before replying with a “you got it”, and Penny glances over to you for a confirmation on Bradley’s request, receiving a small smile and a nod promptly followed by a “yes please”.

Penny lets out a light laugh before heading off to get Bradley a beer and to teach one of her new girls how to make a “fuzzy naval”.

Bradley looks around the bar looking to see if he can find Nat in the sea of civilians and naval aviators. He knew that more often than not, she’d be floating around here once they’d finished up for the day. Most of the naval aviators would come here to destress after training, so it’s not much of a surprise to him when he sees her leaning against the pool table, baiting another civilian into playing a round of pool.

Once he’s spotted Nat, he makes a mental note to head over to the pool table she’s currently occupying. He knows you find comfort in Nat’s company and considering the amount of people crowding around the bar tonight, he can already see that you’re ready to make a run for it.

He slides his arm around your shoulders, trying to provide some comfort before you two can move away from the bar.

Bradley gives your shoulder a light squeeze to gain your attention before he points casually over to Nat. You smile up at him before turning back to the bar, relaxing into his side.

Finally, Penny returns with your drinks, flashing the two of you a smile and giving Bradley a knowing look before she’s turned away and rushing to the opposite end of the bar. Bradley grabs your hand pulling you towards Nat.

Natasha sees the two of you making your way over to her and the grin she had on her face widens even more seeing Bradley holding your hand.

Once the pair of you have reached her, she hits the cue ball towards the black eight ball. Easily slotting it into the pocket, shooting a hand out to the shocked civilian; who she has successfully hustled for the night. He lays a fifty-dollar bill in her hand and walks away in shame before she’s turning and looking at the two lovestruck dumbasses in front of her.

Smiling she says, “Look who decided to drag her ass away from work to make it out tonight.”

You smirk, “How’s the best naval aviator I know?”

Natasha’s smile turns into a smirk, “She’s doing great, already made fifty bucks off the civvy who’s sulking over there in the corner.” She gives her head a nod, gesturing to the man who’s now looking like a kicked puppy, chatting with his buddies.

Natasha turns back to the duo, “Head was a little big when he came over here, figured I’d help him deflate it a bit,” she shrugged.

You laugh and Bradley just looks up to the ceiling with a small shake of his head.

“Good, someone needs to do it.” You say, exasperated, sipping on your drink in the process.

Bradley just let you and Nat carry on conversing with each other, listening in on things that he deemed important, but he was mainly just looking at you. Eyes roaming over your features as you talk.

He is definitely enjoying the view. You’re giggling at something Nat had said, occasionally sipping on your drink, usually followed by flicking a strand of hair out of your face. Don’t even get him started on how the sundress is making him feel. Where did you even get that from? You never wear sundresses. The color complements your skin and makes you stick out in the sea of khaki and jeans like a sore thumb.  

He's suddenly pulled back into the conversation when Nat smugly starts talking about training earlier today.

“Oh, and you’ll never guess who finally got their callsign today” Nat laughs, exaggeratedly leaning over towards you, sneaking her eyes over to Bradley.

You whip your head over to him with widened eyes, “You didn’t tell me that you got your callsign today!”

“It’s not a big deal sunshine,” he smiles warmly at her, happy to have her attention on him instead of Nat.

That statement grants him an eyeroll from you, “sure it isn’t. It’s not like you’ve been wanting to know what your callsign would be since you were five.”

He lets out a laugh, bringing his beer up to his lips and taking a sip, eyes trained on yours.

Your eyes flicker to his lips for a second before you catch yourself and focus back on his eyes again.

He smirks and drags the bottle away from his lips setting it down on a nearby table, “they decided to pay homage to my dad” he breathes out. “So, Rooster is what they came up with,” a small smile graces his lips. “Keeping it in the bird category.”

You smile warmly at him, squeezing his arm, “I like it.”

“Definitely beats Holden by a landslide.” you scoff.

Bradley snorts and glances over to Nat, who’s watching the exchange with a knowing smile.

“Has Nat told you hers yet?” he inquires.

You shake your head before fixing Nat with a questioning stare.

Nat lets out a huff, “It’s a long story”.

“Well, how about you two talk about it while I grab us another drink.” He suggested.

With approval received by both women he quickly makes his way back over to the bar ordering two drinks and a water for himself.

He’s drumming his fingers on the bar waiting for the drinks, casually bobbing his head with the music, when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Knowing you and phoenix were in that general area he turns his head to check in on them, only to see some dick, leaning on the pool table attempting at starting up a conversation with you.

He watches as your face, once relaxed and happy, turns sour. With narrowed eyes and pursed lips, you start talking back to the stranger.

Bradley hasn’t moved yet, but the longer the guy stands there talking to his girl, the angrier he gets.

Bradley thinks he could’ve been fine with letting you and phoenix handle the dick who looks like he walked straight off the set of jersey shore. However, the second he put his hand on your wrist Bradley lost all resolve and was moving swiftly from the bar to make his way back towards you.

You scowled down at the unwanted hand on your wrist before yanking it back towards your body, “Yeah, that’s great, glad you’re having a good night, but don’t touch me.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart, I was only being friendly. Let me buy you a drink?” He reached again for your hand, prompting you to take a step back, bumping into a hard, familiar chest.

“Pretty sure she already told you to keep your hands to yourself.” An arm sneaks around your waist, “And I’d hate to have to tell you again.” Bradley’s hostile voice rings in your ears, crystal clear over the music coming from the jukebox.

The Vinny wannabe scrunches his brows at the pair, “hey man, maybe if you don’t want your girl to be approached, maybe you should tell her how to dress. You can see that ass for miles.”

Bradley clenches his jaw and starts to make his way around you when he feels his hand being pulled back. Turning to face you, he gives you a questioning look, furrowing his eyebrows in the process. You mumble out a quick “I’ve got this handled” before moving around him and slapping the greasy-haired asshole.

The sound reverberates through the bar and effectively catches Penny’s attention, and without another thought she’s wringing the bell. You don’t disrespect women or members of the navy in her bar, and from the way both Bradley and Natasha are glaring down at the man in front of them, she’s guessing he did both.

Two naval officers appear out of the sea of people and roughly grab at the guy’s arms, dragging him from standing in front of you, Bradley, and Natasha to landing in the sand outside the bar’s parking lot.

Penny locks eyes with you receiving a smile and giving one in return before directing her attention towards Bradley, who’s glare is still transfixed on the door where jersey shore was thrown to the wayside.

Penny frowns and locks eyes again with you nodding her head towards Bradley before turning her attention back to serving the crowd that has formed at the back of the bar.

You take a step towards him and grab his arm, giving it a subtle squeeze. Bradley breaks his glare from the door to meet your sparkling eyes, and just like that his anger melts away and he refocuses on getting his girl a drink. Nat had started another round of pool with a naval officer so Bradley decided to bring you with him up to the bar, finding one stool unoccupied and allowing you to sit while he stands and waits.

Not much is said between you two while you wait for their drinks, the sound of Billy Joel’s “uptown girl” muffled by the chatter that has resumed throughout the bar.

Bradley’s eyes are scanning the bar, while yours are focused on Penny who is putting the final touches on your drink. And before you know it another fuzzy naval is placed in front of you, along with a brand of Natasha’s favorite beer. With both drinks finally accounted for, Bradley grabs your hand once more and makes the journey back over to Nat.

Casual conversation ensues between the three of you for a few more hours before Penny calls out to inform you that she’s closing up for the night. Bradley closes out his tab for the night and you guys make your way out to the parking lot.

Nat is still walking towards a vehicle that has pulled into the parking lot when she turns her head lazily to face her two best friends, “well, it’s been fun troublemakers, but I need to get back to the base. Early morning and all.” She waves a hand out to them and a small smirk spreads across her face before she calls out, “Rooster, don’t forget what I told you earlier!”

Bradley gives her a mock salute before she’s hopping into the vehicle and riding out of the parking lot.

You look over to him with a goofy smile on your face (possibly from the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed in the past few hours), “what’s that all about?”

Bradley looks down at you and laughs at the ridiculous look on your face. Hooking his arm around your shoulder he leans down towards your ear and whispers, “you wanna walk the beach a little, before I bring you back to your place?” effectively avoiding your question.

Your eyes light up at the idea and you immediately b-line it past the Hard Deck and towards the pitch black sea. Bradley shakes his head before bolting after you, “Hang-on speed racer!”

Giggling erupts past your lips, “hurry up Roo!”

Bradley’s smile faulters for a second as his heart lurches in his chest at the new nickname.

He finally reaches you and grabs for your hand yanking you back to him. You’re all giggles and messy hair with a light flush on your cheeks, definitely from the alcohol.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth through the white t-shirt lying underneath his Hawaiian button down. Classic Bradley.

“You know my callsign for all of five hours and you’re already shortening it sunshine.”

You push your body away from him, only keeping one hand in his as you lead him further down the beach, “I like it, it’s cute.”

“That is not what callsigns are for. But I’ll let it slide just this once.”

“I don’t know, I’m quite fond of it, Roo” you smile back at him this time, clearly teasing. Teasing is always easier than admitting your feelings after all.

“Makes me think of that cute little kangaroo from ‘Winnie the pooh’. Oh! And you’re tall, and kangaroos can be tall!”

“So, what I’m hearing is, you think I’m cute and tall.” Bradley teases.

You blow out an exasperated breath, “No Bradley, I said that kangaroos are cute and tall.”

“But I remind you of a kangaroo from Winnie the pooh?”

“Yes.”

“And kangaroos are cute? And can be tall?”

“Yes.”

Bradley quirks a brow up at you, “So, by association of being nicknamed after a kangaroo. I’m cute and tall.”

You scrunch your nose up at him, “Not everything is about you Bradshaw.”

You let go of the hand you’re holding and continue your walk forward, hyper focused on the ground as you walk.

“I’m taking it as a compliment anyway.” He states, following after you.

After a few minutes of just ambling down the beach in comfortable silence Bradley decides the two of you should probably start heading back to his bronco.

He quickens his pace to reach for your hand and is once again pulling you back towards him.

Being slightly tipsy though doesn’t forebode well with trying to stay balanced and you manage to trip over your feet, falling into Bradley. He stumbles back trying to keep the both of you upright before he loses his balance as well and is falling into the sand.

“Shit” you breathe out, “Are you okay?”

Bradley has one hand on your waist and one hand cupping the back of your head.

“I’m fine sunshine, are you okay?” eyes currently wandering the expansion of your face checking for any signs of pain or visible injuries.

“Well, I was fine until you pulled me down. I was looking for seashells,” a small pout forming on your lips, Bradley’s eyes instantly falling down to them.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to ask if you were ready to go home.” He whispers out, afraid that whatever spell your under right now will be broken at the mere mention of leaving.

“You coulda just asked? Didn’t have to pull me to the ground to get my attention.” you mumble out.

“I don’t know about that sunshine; you were pretty focused” fingers playing with the fabric of your dress. “Besides, I think I have a great view right now.” His eyes have moved from your lips back up to your eyes.

A beat passes. Your cheeks are flushed pink and you’re painfully aware that you’ve been laying on top of him for longer than what can be considered normal, but you can’t move. He’s pinned you to where you’re at with his honey brown eyes and you’re positive you can’t move away.

You’re holding your breath above him, he’s too close. Too close for you to pretend that you only see him as your best friend. And the way he’s looking at you right now, isn’t helping.

Closing your eyes, you take a breath in, “You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that.”

And then you’re making an attempt at getting up and off of him.

Bradley’s eyebrows furrow before he’s catching your arm and pulling you back down to him. Your eyes are still closed.

“How am I looking at you?” he whispers.

“Like you can see my soul.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes; fuck it, “Like I’m the only person you want to look at for the rest of your life.”

Exhaling the breath you’d been holding you murmur, “and I can’t sit here and continue to pretend it doesn’t do anything to me when it does.” You look up and out towards the sand dunes that lead back over to the main road.

You really don’t want to hear the rejection, let alone see it.

Completely prepared to get up and off of him again you’re about to do just that, when he lets out a small chuckle.

A few tears begin to form in your eyes as you begin to whip your head down to tell him off for being a fucking asshole when you see that he’s still looking at you with the same adoration on his face.

Bradley’s bringing your face closer to his, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “sounds about right then” he whispers, lips ghosting over your own.

Five seconds is how long it takes for you to understand what he just said before he’s slotting his lips against yours.

The world feels like it’s stopped and the only thing grounding you to it is Bradley and the feeling of his lips caressing your own.

The kiss is tender and sweet, there’s no rush or clashing of teeth, it’s calm and patient. Like the love you’ve had for each other that’s been building over the years. His hand that had a hold of your arm has moved to cup the back of your neck, keeping you close, where you belong. Your body once cool from the sea breeze, now feels as though it’s on fire as you melt into Bradley; his mustache tickling your top lip.

Bradley sits up bringing you with him as the two of you explore each other’s lips for a couple more seconds, before you’re breaking the kiss to get some air. Leaning your forehead against his, you smile, eyes still closed.

Bradley has his own smile on his face as he nudges your nose with his, “Only took eighteen years of being best friends, but we got there.”

You let out a short laugh, “Speak for yourself, I was ready for you to kiss me when I was sixteen.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle, “I think we need to make up for lost time then, shouldn’t we?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Definitely” you whisper before capturing his lips with your own.

You pull away again all too soon for his liking as a groan leaves his lips, mouth chasing after yours.

You laugh, running your fingers through his soft curls and he lets out a hum, “I still wanna know what Phoenix said.”

“Calling Nat by her callsign now huh?” He pecks your lips trying to bring you into another long kiss, before sighing out an, “Okay.”

“She told me to grow a pair and ask you to be my girlfriend. Said something about how she couldn’t keep dealing with all of the sexual tension.”

“Which speaking of by the way, I love this dress on you.” his hand bunching up the material around your waist as he says it.

Giggling you lean forward again, catching his lips, letting out a hum of appreciation, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bradley leans back and looks you in the eyes again. You’re glowing brighter than the moonlight shining down on you right now, and if the sun was out he’s certain you’d be shining brighter than that too.

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” a confident look has settled across his face as he bites his lip, waiting for your answer.

You hum again, looking over his shoulder in mock contemplation. Head moving from side to side in an attempt to look like you’re weighing your options. Bradley squeezes your sides earning a squeal from you as you try to block his hands.

He stops long enough for you to catch a breath and look back over to him, “Yes” you breathe out.

His lips quirk up into a surprised smile, “yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bradley surges forward towards you again and brings you into another blinding kiss.

He breaks the kiss this time, before murmuring, “Any chance I can stay at your place tonight?” his tone hopeful.

“Keep kissing me like that and I don’t think I’ll ever let you leave.” you smile.

He grins at you, “That’s the plan, sunshine.”

Oh My My My

[svnflower-writes]

i wanna find out

part one. ao3 | series masterlist

description: james is confused, but no less confused as he was when he was a high school student and denying his infatuation with his best friend's brother. now, regulus is a regular at the cafe he works in, and james doesn't know what to do.

warnings: none it's fluffy james is so cute

note: (reblog and comment please please please i need the validation) HI HELLO I AM BACK OKAY SO i heard the new gracie song and i went insane bc its so jegulus and wrote this in one hour in english class and its unedited. anyway this is a series, the masterlist is linked at the top. this chapter has been on ao3 since yesterday but i didn't get around to posting it here. lowkey think this is terrible but oh wellll

taglist: (i included the people on my marauders taglist so lmk if you don't wanna be on this one) @thestarslittleking @chaserofstars11 @gu1lty-as-sin @dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies @a-beautiful-fool @optimizedchaos @star-ch4ser @qwerty-keysmash @lost-in-reveriie @tulips-best @nqds

Upon his first week at high school, James Potter had come to the conclusion that he would end up with Lily Evans if it was the last thing he did. She was exactly the kind of girl he liked, she was pretty and opinionated and she seemed like the sweetest person he’d ever met. Remus had chuckled at his lovesick pining, not having the heart to tell the messy haired boy that your crush when you’re eleven years old is never your soulmate.

He pined after Lily for two years, with no clear progression other than Lily awkwardly smiling at him each time they passed in the hallways. Safe to say, James’ feelings were not reciprocated, and Marelne had grown a habit of snickering at the way his eyes followed her down the hall.

A few students at school had thought he was overdoing it slightly, but he really wasn’t. He wasn’t overly pushy, and he had only asked her out once or twice. He was clear about his feelings, but wasn't going to make her uncomfortable. James Potter was a gentleman in the truest sense of the word, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel an undeniable feeling of heartache when she walked past and ignored his presence.

Now, however, James was in university. He was as over Lily as he had ever been, and he had escaped the inherent unpleasantries that come with being a teen going through the heartache of growing up. He felt undeniably free, and not to mention his psychology course was helping him understand himself better than ever. He was happier than ever, saying otherwise would be a blatant understatement. He was living in a flat with Sirius, Remus, and Peter, which had been his dream since primary school.

Lily was now one of his closest friends, and she worked at the flower shop that had a door into the coffee shop James worked in. Lily’s law degree and James’ psychology one made them a perfect pair, and much to Remus’ surprise, the two studied together regularly. The fact that James’ attention span and motivation had changed since high school was something no one had expected, and although he still struggled, he had his tactics to get back on track.

Some things never change, though, and James still hated quiet, slow paced days more than death itself. He could deal with stressful, busy days, but the mundane was his greatest oppressor, the repetitiveness of a quiet day driving him to the edge of his sanity. Today happened to be one of those days, he sat behind the counter at the small coffee shop he worked in as customers filtered in once every half an hour.

He sat, watching the slow ticking of the clock as the time went by as slow as it possibly could. It was 12:38pm, and 12:20 felt like hours ago. Blankly staring at the wall, the coffee he’d made himself had been discarded on the counter next to him and he didn’t bother picking it up, knowing that after half an hour of it sitting there, it would surely be cold. Each time someone walked past the door of the shop, James perked up—only to sigh as they walked past without a second thought. James’ tendency to romanticise everything that life had to offer often left him disappointed.

Finally, he heard the bell signalling that someone had opened the door sound, and his head snapped up in relief. ‘ My saviour, love of my life, thank god you’re here.’ his brain sung as he sprung up from his seated position, standing at the counter within seconds of the boy walking into the shop. His signature smile appeared on his face, “hi, how’s your day going?”

The boy seemed to falter, as if his carefully planned interaction of simply ordering what he wanted and leaving had been disrupted by a simple question. His dull blue eyes widened, and his lips fell open in a dumbfounded expression before he picked himself up and showed James a tight lipped smile. “Uh, I’m good.”

James noticed that this small interaction had absolutely foiled his carefully planned coffee order, and the boy had entirely forgotten to say what he wanted. James smiled softly, chuckling in his head. He always thought it was interesting how common these interactions seemed to be when you worked in a coffee shop. The psychology major in him couldn’t help but psychoanalyse these interactions, which made working in hospitality both intriguing and perplexing. He found that you could get a pretty good idea of someone’s mindset and what their day to day life is like by doing this, and it almost acted as revision for his upcoming exam.

“What can I get you today?”

Embarrassment flushed over the dark haired boy’s face, and he automatically sent another tight lipped smile to try and compensate for his forgetfulness. A strand of his soft black curls fell over his eyes, and James could tell just by his body language and the look in his eyes that it annoyed him to no end. “A black coffee, please.”

That was fitting, James thought. With the tidy (almost obnoxiously so) outfit and the carefully styled short black hair, a black coffee was the only thing that really made sense for him.

“And can I have a name for that?”

Stupid boy, you know his name.

“Regulus.”

James knew how to spell it.

He knew how to spell it and he hated that. Regulus was his best friend’s brother, and things between Sirius and his younger brother were rough. They got along until they didn’t. Sirius had spent more evenings than James could count frantically ranting about him on evenings at James’ house after school. When Sirius had left for high school, Regulus had distanced himself from Sirius more than he ever had before. Regulus had always been detatched, and James knew this from Sirius’ extensive complaints.

James he knew he shouldn’t have been so enamoured with Regulus in his high school years as he was, but when James fell for someone he fell for them. He fell for them intensly and irreversably and everyone he had ever loved lived in his heart for eternity. It may seem like James was feeling too insensely, but for him to not love so deeply and fully would mean he was not James Potter. He could not be in any sort of relationship without loving them to the end of the earth. His mother had always told him to cherish this, that his way of loving was incredibly pure and a love that many people would give anything to be the recipient of. But based off his past relationships, his love was not something to be cherished.

“Alright, I’ll have that ready for you soon.”

While he was making the coffee, James allowed himself to watch Regulus, noticing the way his hair was slightly more inclined to falling to the right side of his forehead, the way his greyish-blue eyes fixed on one spot of the wall and didn’t seem to move. He watched as his hands anxiously clasped together in his lap and his foot tapped.

James was a master of the art of noticing, and he tended to read into what people did, more so than was probably helpful. But James had always been observant, even as a toddler he had had an integral interest in people. He understood when people said that the human race was done for, but he was compelled to disagree. He had a sense of optimism that many thought was overbearing, but in the same way, James sometimes found their pessimism slightly disheartening.

Regulus intrigued him, although the boy was made of very few words and made him fiddle with his hands behind the counter and cause his eyes to flutter around the room to look anywhere other than his eyes. Regulus was pretty. He was the definition of pretty, with his wavy black hair and his grey eyes that shone with something James couldn’t quite place. James felt an intense urge to sink into the ground and never reappear. Unsure of what this was, he played it off as simply nervousness around someone new—not that it was common for James to ever feel nervous around new people. Regulus had this aura about him, one that James couldn’t figure out. It was undeniable that Regulus made James shy, but James would deny the reason for this nervousness for as long as he possibly could—and longer. This was merely a customer that would show up to the coffee shop once and never again—after all, he hadn’t seen Regulus in the shop at all earlier in the year.

For a reason James couldn’t quite place, there was a hint of awkwardness between him and Regulus. They respected each other, sure, but when they were alone, without Sirius or Remus, James felt an intense urge to sink into the ground and never reappear. He played it off as simply nervousness around someone new—not that it was common for James to ever feel nervous around new people. Regulus had this aura about him, one that James couldn’t quite place. It was undeniable that Regulus made James nervous, but James would deny the reason for this nervousness for as long as he possibly could—and longer. Regulus didn’t speak much, and James tried but failed to match this. The silence felt awkward, and he couldn’t go for long sitting in silence with him until he overshared, making the situation more awkward than it had been beforehand.

“Long black for Regulus?”

He says his name, although there is no one else in the shop to mistake the coffee as their own. But James likes the way his name sounds on his lips, as horrifically cheesy as that may sound.

Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it. He’s off-limits and you know that.

Looking up, Regulus looked up and flashed a small, awkward smile, walking to the counter and reaching for the coffee. As his fingers wrapped around the cup, they brushed James’ fingers, and his grey eyes flickered up to meet James’ deep brown ones. “Thank you,” he looked away quickly and was out of the shop before James could even respond.

Okay, James thought, okay, this is okay. He just has to make it out of the shop and then I’ll never see him again.

But then Regulus stops halfway out of the door, sending James a wonky smile and a soft “I’ll see you around.” His eyes are twinkling with something unrecognisable, and once he leaves James allows himself to breathe and forces the dorky smile off his face as he swears under his breath.

Stupid, stupid boy.

[conkers-thecosy]

Hi guys!

So, I hear it's Fanfic Writers' Appreciation Day, and as someone who has enjoyed a LOT of Bagginshield fanfiction this year, I thought it would be nice to share some recommendations!

These are just a few of my personal favourites, feel free to share your own!

If I could Give My Breath Away (I Would) by StupidFatPenguin

Thorin loses his memory and quite forgets that the hobbit by his bedside whom he wishes to court and marry is already his husband. Everyone else find this hilarious.

Safe and Distant by Lindzzz

Bilbo never bothers denying that he is a slight, little bit, probably infatuated with Thorin. It’s not something that bothers him. Really. He’s pretty sure that everyone very likely has a little flutter in their chest for the dwarf. He’s something grand and unattainable. And it’s really much safer if it stays that way.

Travelling Songs to Fall In Love To by galehautstomb

When Thorin started to sing, Bilbo had to sit down. It was all he could do not to put his head in his hands. He knew at that moment, that he would be going on this journey, but he was not brave enough yet to voice it.

Unspoken Choice by snarkymonkey

In the wake of war and all else, Bilbo decides he needs to do something for Thorin that isn't related to dragons or gold or anything else. Nothing simpler than the offer of a trim, right?

Best To Move Forward by sharkbait33

“Thorin,” he greeted, a small smile forming on his lips. Thorin did not smile, though his expression softened just a bit. “Master Baggins.” The professionalism made Bilbo flinch, his expression falling, and the hobbit dropped his gaze to the floor. Though he should have expected this, should not have such heartache faced with the truth, he had been quite hopeful. “Bilbo.” The dwarf’s tone surprised him, so quiet and gentle, if that was even possible. Two large hands came into view, one cradling Bilbo’s cheek, the other finding a place beneath his chin, using two fingers to tilt his face up so their eyes met. “Bilbo,” Thorin repeated, and this time there was a sad smile gracing his features, small, but still there. “I am truly, very sorry for all the hurt I have caused you.”

As Is The Custom by ever_yours

After everything, Bilbo becomes an integral part of castle workings—and honestly, there’s not much waiting for him back at the Shire. So he stays, and decides to learn more about dwarrow culture while he’s at it. As it turns out, dwarf kings are significantly more affectionate than he’d expect...

A Moment When by elementalist

All those precious moments when a look, a touch, a smile, all come crashing together into a single, inescapable truth.

Call You Home by northerntrash

In which the Company are entirely too nosy about matters that are supposed to be a secret, and Bilbo learns that being concerned about propriety is overrated when you could be making friends instead.

The Riven Crown by BeautifulFiction

‘We may have won the battle, but I fear the war with winter is just beginning.’ The aftermath of war is no laughing matter. Those who died must be honoured, those who are wounded must be healed, and those who remain need food and clothing, peace and sanctuary. With Thorin's life hanging in the balance, it is up to Bilbo and the rest of the Company to rule the rag-tag remnants of Erebor in his place.

I Love You Most (but I'm not worthy) by rowanguerrin

Something desperate and keening bade him look once more at the Thief— at Bilbo— and, before he could even think of doing anything else, his eyes shifted to the body pinned down before him. Bilbo looked up at him with wide, wide eyes, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, afraid and— And sad, so so sad, as if it were not his body Thorin was about to throw over the ramparts but his heart instead.

Eye for Eye and Tooth for Tooth by Chrononautical

Bilbo is kidnapped by dwarves looking to hurt the king. Though he manages to escape, he is badly injured and no longer feels safe in Erebor. Thorin, furious at the harm done to his burglar, seeks vengeance. Unfortunately, all he really wants is to find a way to make Bilbo comfortable at his side once again, and that is more difficult.

The Road Delivered Us Home by Keelywolfe

In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End. He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

A Passion For Mushrooms by Chrononautical

There are many trials for a hobbit attempting to make a life among dwarves. A hobbit wants a garden. A hobbit wants to eat regular meals. A hobbit wants friends, good books, and comfortable chairs. Bilbo does his best to carve out a little hobbit life for himself in the mountain. If only there were not one final obstacle. For a hobbit heart wants love, and among dwarves that is a sticky subject.

Something Blue by lapin

Thorin marries Bilbo after the Battle of Five Armies, a marriage of convenience, not love. Slowly, they must come to make the best of it, Bilbo resolves. After all, he's a Hobbit. They make the best of things.

Cold Sheets by plotweaver

Thorin is angry when Bilbo's new duties as Master of Agriculture for Erebor make him bring his work home.

Dragonhearted by LordOfTheRazzles

The grandson of a greedy king and his dwarvish companions fall under the curse of literal dragon sickness - at least for Thorin. Bestowed by Smaug the Terrible, an enchanter whose other form is also that of a dragon, the vilest of fire drakes from the north, is seeking riches at the end of a hard trial for the prince of Erebor. The decades roll by and the curse shows no sign of lifting, for Thorin was tasked with proving that his heart was worth saving and that he would not be corrupted by gold lust like his grandfather. All seems bleak until the arrival of one quirky little hobbit of the Shire with his mother’s stubborn streak and his father’s gentility. Bilbo Baggins, a prisoner of this draconic beast, soon begins to show Thorin just what a heart worth saving feels like.

The Letter by objectlesson

Once Bilbo arrives in the haunted stillness of Bag End, his chest aches to realize the house does not feel like a home anymore. He at first chalks it up to having been empty: to a year of disuse, to odd scents filtering their way in and settling like cobwebs in the absence of his usual routine, tea and baking and the drying of herbs. Perhaps, once he begins these things again, it will not feel so cavernous, so lonely, so strangely and painfully bare, like a tree stripped of its leaves come winter. But weeks pass, and nothing changes. So maybe it’s not the emptiness, but the fact (which he is trying his very hardest to dutifully ignore) that he left his heart behind to crystalize in the caverns of the Lonely Mountain.

The Things You See In The Market by GothicMama

Krelven just wants to explore the market on his day off. But instead he gets thrown for multiple loops when he sees two extremely familiar faces.

You Should Be Safe With Me by fantasyinallforms

Thorin is haunted by the guilt of almost losing Bilbo in the battle of the five armies. As Bilbo settles in the mountain, many are enamored with the new Hobbit, and some wish him harm. How will Thorin react to Bilbo's newfound attention or the threats to his life? Is it even safe for the hobbit to stay within the mountain?

Songs in the Dark by leoandlancer

After the resolution of the Battle of Five Armies and the beginning of the restoration of Erebor, Thorin and Bilbo are still carefully, and respectfully, distant to each other. Each certain the other wants nothing to do with them after the betrayals they've committed. However, trapped by a cave-in while exploring the lower halls, Thorin and Bilbo are suddenly, and unavoidably thrown together and slowly they begin to sort things out.

[eternamarea]

: PHONE CALL AWAY, HEARTACHE AWAKE. giselle x fm!reader

synopsis. in which aeri is forgiven but not forgotten. now playing : glue song by beabadoobee — wc. 753

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏TOOTH-ROTTING sweetness attempted to fill the ambience as my hands gripped onto her shirt in a fit of anger, "ri... you can't leave me like this," it left so desperate, full of remorse and guilt as soon as those words left my mouth.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏"it's alright, i'll be back during summer," she attempts to reassure.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏"ri, you're leaving for korea! how is this gonna 'be alright'?" i fight back

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏"listen... it's my dream, y'know, to be an idol. please, just let go... people are watching."

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏a heartache awakens inside myself, this is all that i was, isn't it? a pretty girlfriend for my girlfriend to embarrass herself with.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏i let go of her shirt and a handful of spiteful words leave my mouth. i don't mean them, of course, and i also don't mean to leave her just like that, stranded at the airport.

🎬 — flashback end ,,

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏SUCH MEMORY repeats itself inside my head, we never officially broke up, but she must think we did. our few lasting mutual friends have told me about her night life and how oh-so close she is with this jimin girl.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏i feel delusional, clinging onto something from 4 years back. i stand up from the bed, groggy.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏maybe everyone was right about her. maybe i should’ve believed everyone about how much of a wreck uchinaga would leave me as. i had given her my all, but she was unable to reciprocate.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏"i'm a loser", i thought to myself. it had been many years of attempting to get over her, but nothing worked. it took me a lot to "forgive her", though i still long for her. it was almost as tragic as romeo and juliet, except neither of us had died even though it felt as if i had.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏grins were exchanged between me and my reflection in the mirror. was i going insane? i'd never know for sure, until all that's left of her is not the pictures frames in the living room nor the box full her letters from the first few months she was in korea. what's left of her should be the feeling of appreciation i have always had for her, from within, i could feel her warmth, but now, it is just a distant memory.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏as though i were a fish out of water, i choked on the few tears that would not leak, would not trail down my pajamas shirt and drive me mad once more.

🎬 — timeskip ,,

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏THOUGH I cannot hear her, i can visualize her in my mind. visualize her running across the stage, oh-so happy as her dream was fulfilled, as though i weren't a collector of those silly little glossy, cardboard cards with her face on them.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏i felt like i was rotting away, specially when i could've sworn i'd seen her. walking about, i must have been insane to follow the shadow of was supposedly her. except, it really was her.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏there she was, by the sumida river, with whom i could pinpoint as yu jimin. heartbreak awoke inside my chest once more, for i knew this whole time she was just a phone call away.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏she looked as happy as she did in my imagination, full of no guilt, and only herself. it hurt me though i should be happy. i just stared and stared as though i was a fan. the jimin girl pointed at me and told aeri something inaudible from the distance i was at.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏"i know her," aeri yelled, motioning for me to come over. i shot a soft smile, but jimin clinged the uchinaga's arm protectively. my heartbeat quickened as though i were watching my past self and aeri on a date.

͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏once and for all, i had to settle this. therefore for the first time in my life, i rejected her. i rejected uchinaga aeri by walking away into the midst of the buzzing city.

[merakiui]

AGH RULER OF MY HEART IS SOOOOO GOOD. IT HURTS IN EVERY WAY BECAUSE LUKA IS SINGING AS SUA TO MESS W MIZI AND SUA AND MIZI MY OTP :((( black sorrow has a special place in my heart bcs the relization and the Ivan and Till could’ve escaped, but Till refused to leave because that would mean leaving Mizi and so Ivan stays behind aswell- AND THE FACT MIZI WAS ASLEEP FOR PRETTY MUCH OF ALL TILL’S SONG :( AND THE COMMUNITY POSTS ON YOUTUBE WITH IVAN AND TILL WEARING BLACK AND WHITE LIKE MIZI AND SUA DID- IM NOT READY!!! IM NOT!! the gods are playing dangerous games cause im abt to hurt them if Till or Ivan die… my hope is that they’ll escape like how Mizi was able to… GOD SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE ITS JUST ALIEN STAGE HAS A SPECIAL PLACE JN MY HEART..

but normal thought for a second, Alien stage au with twst characters.. the heartache :(( who’d be who though is what i wonder…

YES YES!!!! AAAAAA HE'S SO FRUSTRATING (I love him)!!!!! Mizi x Sua hurts my heart,,, doomed yuri. T_T I just want them to be happy forever. 🥺

Black Sorrow is also really good!!!!! Another one that left my heart aching. WAAAA IVAN!!!!!!! orz orz have you heard the Ivan and Till version of My Clematis? It's so good!!!! >w< praying they both survive the next round. Pitting two babygirls against each other....... if they are the next pairing to be doomed, it's over for me. </3

Alien Stage au with twst..... :O because I love fem Riddle dearly I like to think of a concept where Reader is Mizi and fem Riddle is Sua. OTL of course that would have to make Azul Luka!!!! >:D maybe Deuce as Till and Ace as Ivan? As for who is Hyuna,,,,,, maybe Floyd!!! In my mind this fits, but then if there are other ideas I would be so happy to hear them. :D

[ner5y]

Some music idea's for tadc Carnival au

So in each of the guardian's themes from BOTW you can faintly hear the morse code for S.O.S at different points in their songs, right? (along with other morse code messages that I don't know the meaning of)

(It's a lot clearer in the soundtrack, especially for vah ruta but hopefully you can still hear it)

Listen closely, you can hear beeping in the background:

So what if WHAT IF Different songs in the Carnival au game's soundtrack had something like that? Like you open it up and the title screen's song has a catchy beat, but little do you know, IT'S THE GAME CALLING FOR HELP.

That was just a random thought I had, this post is mostly to headcanon what video game osts would fit what character, so here:

Pomni's Room:

Glitzville (Paper Mario: The Thousand year Door)

Does. Does anyone actually remember some of the weird (and sometimes racially insensitive) writing in this game? I still have a pretty fresh memory, because I first played it about two years ago (VERY LEGALLY). But did anyone clock those as a kid, or was it just a normal 2000s thing?

Pomni's Boss Battle

I think the choice is obvious...

THE WORLD REVOLVING (Deltarune)

Ragatha's Room

Petalburg (Paper Mario and the Thousand year Door)

(But if you wanted it to be more elegant, "The Night of The Ball" from Fire Emblem 3 Houses would also fit I think. Oo, OR" Lily's theme" from Pokemon: Sun and Moon might fit better.)

Ragatha's boss Battle

Battle! (Lusamine) (Pokemon Sun and Moon)

(I couldn't really think of a good one for her)

Kinger's Room

Soul Sanctum (Hollow Knight)

(Could also be "Victory Road" from Pokemon: X and Y, Or if you're looking for something more upbeat, Merlee's mansion from Super Paper Mario! that one might sound too evile, though [Fun fact: I was so scared of Mimi's spider form as a kid, that I didn't end up getting past the second door and finishing the game until I was FOURTEEN])

(It could also be a whole host of other Hollow Knight songs)

Kinger's Boss Battle

Mantis Lords (Hollow Knight)

(OR "Twilight of the Gods" from Shadows of Valentia, or maybe even "Time to Fight!" From Xenoblade Chronicles (*cough* Dunban is the goat *cough*))

OKAY, for Jax, since he's so fucked up, I think his themes would be DRASTICLY different when comparing sentitience and none-sentience:

Jax's Room (sentient)

Hellfire Follies (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Jax's Room (Non Sentient)

Inkwell Isle One (Cuphead)

Jax's Boss Battle (Sentient)

Colossal Wonders (Bendy and the Ink Machine)

Jax's Boss Battle (Non-sentient)

Fiery Frolic (Cuphead)

Another fun fact, King Dice's song is sung by a woman named Alana Bridgewater!

Gangle's Room

Shopping (Pokemon: X and Y)

Again, struggled with this one. Not sure if it fits too well.

(A general theme for Gangle could be Dimentio, Charming Magician from Super Paper Mario)

Gangle's Boss Battle

I've Had Enough Of You (Billie Bust Up)

And would you look at that, Michael's at it again.

Here's a female cover cus y'know Gangle's a girl

(For ones without vocals, maybe "Battle Team Flare" from Pokemon X and Y, "Fracktail Battle" or "It's Showtime" both from Super Paper Mario)

Zooble's Room

Spirit of Hospitality (Celeste)

(Could also be Crystal Peak from Hollow Knight!)

Zooble Boss Battle

Confronting myself (Celeste)

(I was struggling to decide between Heartache, Metal crusher (Undertale) and Battle Elite Four (Pokemon: Sun and Moon) but as soon I heard this, I KNEW)

Bonus:

Caine Boss Fight

BIG SHOT (Deltarune: Chapter 2)

I think that's all of them!

@sm-baby

[rachthepoet]

Meet Me in the Hallway Analysis

Another of Harry's songs gets underappreciated for the sole reason that people do not grasp the profoundness injected into it. This song is a masterpiece in uncertainty's devastation, utilizing time and setting for the emotions' amplification. The somber sound itself offers a perfect way to orient the listener to the delicate curation of HS1, making it one of my favorite openers, too. It delves into themes of longing, heartache, and an all-consuming desperation for reconciliation. Additionally, we are introduced to a theme that weaves itself fervently throughout HS1 — reflection and grieving. Too often, it's stuck side by side with self-regret and destruction, too.

Here's a deep dive into Harry Styles' Meet Me in the Hallway, from a poet.

Metaphors, baby, Metaphors!

The title itself is a metaphor and a core one at that. The term Meet Me in the Hallway purposefully mirrors the saying Meet Me in the Middle. This song has an intense tinge of a plea — specifics, the plea to reconnect and resolve unfinished business, to find a compromise. But, one party is always hurting more than the other. Per usual though, let's go a bit deeper. A hallway is a temporary, empty place to be stuck in. It's used to reach a destination but is never the destination itself. This is such a key detail in the perspective of the song. It's torturous, to be stuck in this limbo, never reaching the point he longs for, always being pushed back down on this hallway floor. It's a form of stagnancy, and one can easily spiral if left to their own devices in such circumstances.

There's another metaphor at work, a pretty big and overarching one — comparing love to addiction. I definitely think Meet Me in the Hallway is about love, but, more so, the loss of it. As many have vocalized one time or many, love can feel like a drug. Enveloped in the moment, it can make one see the world differently, and maybe it can even take your pain away. But, so easily, one can become reliant, and dependent, finding themselves immersed in the withdrawal pains when it's snatched away from them all at once. Essentially, that's what this song encompasses and illustrates — the withdrawal. Partnered with the bargaining, standing in the metaphorical space between closeness and distance. Trying to find a way to meet halfway physically and emotionally in a desperate effort to take the pain away. He needs them, and can't live without them, even as they mutilate him.

A last thing to mention is not really a metaphor, but more a running theme across his works that is always going to be prevalent — miscommunication. There's a significant struggle with lack of communication, now also highlighting bad coping mechanisms. Both, as one comes to see, find themselves in recurrence of this debut album of his.

Lyric Pull Apart

[INTRO] Two, three, four...

Something so decadent to the ear, but simultaneously so devastating to the gut. I love how this song — and the debut album — starts off with a hushed counting off. Starting with a hushed tone gives an intimacy to it, something so intriguing, as this opener chronicles a loss of intimacy.

[VERSE 1] Meet Me in the Hallway Meet Me in the Hallway I just left your bedroom Give me some morphine Is there any more to do?

Meet Me in the Hallway: Again, this is a rearrangement of the plea to meet me in the middle. Stopped at this first line to digest, but this is only the first in many moments of begging to work it out, interwoven with many pleas of wanting to get better and get better — but still finding oneself stuck in the hallway, stuck in the in-between, with no direction as to where to head to get to the destination at the end. A small detail I feel like people always miss is how his vocals echo, solidifying that particular image of him down and out. Sitting out in the hallway, back up against the wall, maybe with the head tilted back too — pleading in withdrawal.

Meet Me in the Hallway / I just left your bedroom: Just like the hallway is a metaphor, the bedroom is one as well. Take the setting and turn it into poetics. The bedroom is considered an intimate space, yes? The speaker's walked out, there's been a separation of intimacy, and is on his way out into the cold, but isn't all the way out. Remember, the hallway is an in-between space, always a method to the destination but never the destination itself. He's stuck in this agonizing leeway, and maybe he keeps returning back to them on his own or they keep convincing him, even with the knowledge that this addiction is detrimental to him on all levels.

There's some hidden detail just in the way it's phrased. I just left your bedroom gives some backstory. They were recently together and intimate, maybe an unwritten this will be the last time we do this (but they said that the last time, and the time before that). Inserting an emotional distance, but concurrently physical. And, back to bouncing off the bedroom metaphor, the relationship could be in such a place where the speaker feels like a stranger, like he's no longer welcome. Lost intimacy.

I just left your bedroom, this specification of "yours", as it's not his or theirs together. Again, lost intimacy. Marking the bedroom as the other party's in turn sets the other one's rules in place. The speaker has no sense of control, which can serve as a double meaning. No control in the relationship, but, at the same time, losing control of the self. The hallway is something more neutral, less intimate, a stark contrast to the bedroom — and that's where the speaker's been thrown.

Give me some morphine: Morphine is not only a pain medication, but it's also extremely addictive. Could this be him begging for it as the only close substitute to come close to the effect this person's love has/had on him? The love that's been ripped away? Here, and written in the undertone of the song's beginning to end, is a sense of hopelessness. This person's love is a drug to him, so he's bringing in another addictive drug to try and supplement. And, like much incorporated in this song, it's injected with metaphor — a simple one, more broadened, trying to search for the supplement to ease the pain. A supplement to the other who left him in urgency for something to take the pain away. It suggests that the speaker has fallen into a state of desperation, seeking any form of escape from the agony, even if unhealthy and just as destructive.

Is there any more to do?: Hopelessness! This song chronicles a moment of anguish, grasping at straws to try and salvage the intimacy and relationship, not wanting to lose the one who's taking the pain away. Even with the knowledge it might not be healthy, and even with the knowledge it's only a temporary solution. He's become dependent. And finds himself in the weakest state.

[CHORUS] Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know, I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out I gotta get better, gotta get better I gotta get better, gotta get better I gotta get better, gotta get better And maybe we'll work it out

Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door / Hoping you'll come around: I see this chorus as a surrender, a fall from grace on the hallway floor. The chorus' repetition captures this essence, I believe. He's ready to take the person back whenever they are willing. He's right at the door — trying to get closer to the past intimacy of the bedroom — ready to try and work it out, to try and meet in the middle, and push down the pain they've caused him. But will it ever really be forgotten? And he's hoping, even whilst drowning in hopelessness. It's on the other person to come around, for maybe he has run dry, exhausted. Stuck in the silence, the waiting.

Just let me know, I'll be on the floor, on the floor / Maybe we'll work it out: He's on the hallway floor, as all of his guards and dignity have fallen limp. Not putting up any fights to the withdrawal and pain, but rather letting himself succumb to the emotion. Surrendering himself to an addictive love, even if it's destined to harm him in the end. And he's saying maybe we'll work it out. Hoping, maybe, very tentative and insecure in his diction — like he's been in this same spot of desperation before. He's experienced the come down from the high too many times. Yet, a small part of him will still go back. He'll still fall to his knees if the other party welcomes him back in. Again, still a small part of him that tries to hope amid the hopelessness.

The lines before these and the two here now mirror each other, and there's an intention to that. When one's in despair, spiraling within yourself, you can repeat oneself over and over to try and communicate the tortured spot one's in. Repeating the same point again and again, even if phrased a little differently.

I gotta get better, gotta get better [x3]: What was that about repetition? It could be just for rhythmic purposes, granted, but it feels like it's something told to himself, repeating it like a mantra. A mantra that reflects both a personal struggle to heal and a stronghold on the aspiration to improve the situation with the other party. And it's sung in almost a yell, and very self-chastising. He's placing himself at fault, this confession into how he feels — and, because of the urgency the repetition evokes, it could be something that's been plaguing him, weighing him down to the floor. Maybe he knows he's not been handling things well, like one would with a drug addiction, and needs to get better to work it out. Even if it's not a guarantee. And, once more, the repetition, in this section and in other moments of the song, pushes forward the feelings of hopelessness, desperation, and even submissiveness.

[VERSE 2] I walked the streets all day Running with the thieves 'Cause you left me in the hallway (Give me some more) Just take the pain away

I walked the streets all day / Running with the thieves: These lyrics continue along the path of melancholy and introspection, and the sense of solitude is further painted. The speaker is wandering hopelessly, searching for something to replicate his drug — much like how substance abusers spend their days walking the streets looking for more. Then. Any saying that includes "running with the..." implies associating oneself with a group of people without necessarily identifying within it. A thief is someone who seeks something they don't possess. In this song, he's waiting desperately for someone who isn't returning back to him, so he feels the connection to the thieves — he seeks something he no longer possesses.

There's also an air of reminiscence to Liam Sparkes' quote in Another Man, speaking of tattooing Harry's butterfly:

"The butterfly on his torso is based on an old French prison tattoo inspired by Papillon. Traditionally, it would mean the wearer is a thief — something to do with the double meaning of 'Je vole', which translates as both 'I steal' and 'I fly'." — Liam Sparkes

This can bring in some more theorization of symbolism, as butterflies can represent someone's yearning for freedom or metamorphosis. He's been trapped in this metaphorical prison, in the hallway setting, for so long that he dreams of running with the thieves as a sense of freedom. Even if that freedom is self-destructive, it would still be freedom from this hopelessness and melancholia. Then, the illusion of metamorphosis, where he thinks these bad coping mechanisms will give him the feeling of open wings, but he's just shot down instead. The dichotomy and this could be a stretch, I fear, but I like sharing anyhow.

Running with the thieves could indicate he's let himself get carried away by things around him, to take his mind off the pain, engulfing himself in self-destructive things. Almost like he's fallen into the dramatic justifying thoughts: What's the point of anything if this love is lost? If the one I love won't let me in, might as well throw my entire self away. With this withdrawal of losing intimacy and connection with the other person, there's a lack of meaning to anything he does. So why not go and run about? Indulge himself in a self-induced ticking time bomb?

'Cause you left me in the hallway (Give me some more) / Just take the pain away: He points the finger to the other person as the cause of his agonizing isolation in the hallway, as they've neglected him in the limbo, for he has no indication of where they stand. He's been left somewhere in the middle of an unfinished relationship, hoping for more. Hoping for the person to take his pain away. And, through all this, I feel there's an indication that he's the only one holding out hope anymore. He blames his irresponsible actions from the lines before on the fact that he's been, again, left in the hallway, framing anything he does destructively as a cause-and-effect phenomenon. Again, the hallway is such a temporary and empty place to be, a way to get to the destination but never the destination itself. If one's standing endlessly in the hallway, especially in a moment of stagnancy with no direction out, you're nowhere meaningful — and that can be torturous.

I love how Give me some more plays off the earlier Give me some morphine, which can be both an emphasis and a branch off, diving deeper into the desperation. Screaming into the echos of the hallway "Give me more!". More effort from the other person, some more hope or signals that would make him believe they're working towards making things better too. And maybe this will take his pain away. Even if that soothing is superficial, he's desperate for something to take it away.

[CHORUS] Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know, I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out I gotta get better, gotta get better I gotta get better, gotta get better I gotta get better, gotta get better And maybe we'll work it out

The chorus returns, with the spiraling repetition and aching. We have the metaphors of the hallway, the bedroom, but what about the door? Each piece of the setting listeners have been placed in holds such symbolism to it. The door could be a metaphor for entering back into the relationship, for the door is what separates the bedroom (intimacy) and the hallway (isolation). He's waiting for their permission for him to open the door and enter the room — circling back to how the speaker's the only one who still wants this companionship. He's the one having the desires, this desperation, a need — but the other person is failing to even meet him in the middle, to meet him in the hallway, even as he's now collapsed on the floor, overtaken by the pains of his withdrawal and melancholy.

[OUTRO] We don't talk about it It's something we don't do 'Cause once you go without it Nothing else will do

We don't talk about it / It's something we don't do: Here we go again, this man and his communication issues. I've said it before, and will probably say it a million more as it's inevitable to come up —struggle with communication is such a common theme across HS1, across his discography entirely. The two of them don't talk about their issues — maybe they're scared that if they start talking about it, it'll be like tugging on a loose thread, only a matter of time before they both unravel. There's a fear of loss, and a fear of having to grieve the companionship, as the love has grown — say it with me now — addictive.

'Cause once you go without it / Nothing else will do: Once he's had a taste of what this person could be for him, how they can take the edge off, he feels that anything and anyone that follows will pale in comparison. Drugs, such as morphine, are so highly addicting that people often feel like they can't live without it and nothing else is as good — after they've felt that surge in their body, or the relief, even if it was illusionary.

Within the confines of Meet Me in the Hallway, in its somber after-hours feel, themes and conceptualizations were set up to be returned to throughout the debut album. This song also has a lot to do with the self, which is fitting to lift the opener of a debut and reintroduction. But this relationship with the self isn't healthy all the time, and I think it's beautiful that we do explore darker themes often in his work. Writing songs can be a form of catharsis, and we are the gifted to be able to hear it, and maybe find our own release.

Thank you for reading, you’re absolutely incredible! If there are any songs you’d like me to make an analysis of, please send your request to my inbox! along with any questions or insights you might have yourself!

[tmntxthings]

∑一stay in my memories。・゜・

author’s note: it’s such a tragedy that im just listening to this whole song now. i kept hearing that one popular part and finally finally listened to it all and wow ♪ memories by conan grey ♪

warnings: angst, past relationships, hurt/comfort? song inspired, unedited

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It’s been a couple of months since you. That was about the amount of time it took for Michelangelo to stop crying. His brothers had a pretty hard time too. So did Pops. They weren’t used to Mikey being so down. Feeling so blue. But he couldn’t help it, the breakup had been hard. The distance has been even harder. He knew he had spent every waking second with you, but it really felt like a punch to the plastron coming to the realization, that he was supposed to live without you now.

He had finally gotten to a point where looking at all those pictures of the two of you together didn’t hurt. It didn’t make him cry anymore. And most things had. All the little knickknacks, every single thing you had gotten him. The comics, the art supplies, the clothes that you sometimes wore. He couldn’t possibly get rid of it. Even when Donnie deduced it would help his grieving process. That it might speed things up and not make things so difficult.. to have constant reminders of you.

But Mikey couldn’t bear to lose one more piece of you. So he stuffed everything into a box.. at least the things he didn’t use on the daily, and hid them away in the back of his closet. And so the months passed and he was surviving, somehow.. someway without you. He sometimes wondered if it would’ve been better to have never met you. To have never gone through such heartache. But with the headspace he was at now, he knew that wouldn’t be true. It wouldn’t have been better. Because then he would’ve never experienced all those good times. The lovely moments, the loving moments with you. He couldn’t really ponder too hard about those still.. Donnie said he was 75% on the way to a complete recovery. Mikey thought he may just be saying that but most days he felt better. Enough to sometimes spare a smile at those old photos.

The two of you had gone back and forth like this countless times. But you always came back after a couple of days and Mikey readily opened his arms. It wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, his brothers made sure to remind him that. But he couldn’t help what he felt in his heart for you. You were his sun. But this time.. it felt like the last. After those first couple of days he had waited with his phone clutched in his grasp. Waiting for a message, a call, anything to show him that you wanted him back. Raph said it was for the best. That he and you were just each other’s first love, and that it was always the hardest to get over.

“I’m heading up!” Mikey called out in the lair. It wasn’t uncommon nowadays to go topside alone. Though Raph asked if he wanted company. Mikey replied quickly, “Nah, I’ll be back in a few! I just wanna skate for a bit.. clear my head,” and that was all he needed to say. Raph understood and gave Mikey a warm grin and waved him off.

He could hear the sound of pouring rain halfway up the ladder to the manhole cover. It didn’t deter the orange clad turtle. Though skating in such conditions are unadvised, Mikey wasn’t your average skater. He was a ninja with rad skills. Plus the rain deterred others so it wouldn’t be packed at the park. And yet as Mikey pulled up his hood and covered the manhole with practiced ease. His board strapped to his shell underneath his orange hoodie, hoping it would stay dry til he reached his destination. He felt familiar chills run over his entire body. He turned to the alleyway opening, out to the lit up sidewalk, and there you were.

His breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t seen you in months. And there you were. Here you were. Staggering forward and drenched from the rain. His heart lurched at the sight. No no no no. This wasn’t happening. He had finally stopped hurting. He had finally started surviving without you! And yet as you called out his name,

“M-Mike?”

His breath sputtered as his hands went around himself. As if he could hold himself together. Like he wasn’t already falling apart. “What’re you doing Y/n?” His voice sounded foreign to even himself. He felt like he was dying. Something was clawing at his tattered and beaten heart. He didn’t want to face you. He didn’t want to think about you. No you were supposed to be in his memories. Not here before him, shivering from the cold and practically begging to be wrapped in his arms.

“I just wanna talk,” you murmured. Though the rain was still coming down, he heard you clearly. His ears straining for every word. His body was betraying him. Had it forgotten all of the pain it had went through? For months? For longer than that! The off and on and off and on again? You started moving forward and Mikey started to shake his head. You were talking again, trying to make it right, trying to explain.

“Just hear me out Angie, I know I’ve messed up bad. But I don’t think I can do it without you, I- I tried!”

The closer you got the more dizzy he felt. Until you were right before him and even the smell of the dripping rain couldn’t cover the alcohol that lingered on your breath. He winced inwardly, you weren’t here for him. You were here for you. Playing the victim once more despite claiming to own up to your mistakes. “Please Mikey, I swear I’ll do better, better for you, f-for us!”

His thoughts were cloudy. He wanted you to stay in his memories. The past was too traumatizing and all you did was bring it back. You threw it in his face as if his feelings didn’t truly matter. He was your crutch. He was all you had. And his heart strings, or what was left of them, pulled. He shook his head. He was trying so hard to get over you, to get over this. But you showed up, out of nowhere, months later, out of the blue in such a state! He felt the slow exhale wind down and out of his body. He knew the ending would always be the same with you. The two of you couldn’t be friends. He doubted the two of you could be the same lovers as you once were. All that you were doing now was preventing him from moving on, from yourself moving on to something new..

But since you came…

His arms slowly opened and you lurched forward. Wet and trembling the both of you, tears camouflaged by the unforgiving rain. “Okay,” he sighed, it was hardly even voiced. He was sure you couldn’t hear as you sobbed into his chest. Just happy he had let you in again. To break his heart once more. Maybe he was insane. Though he didn’t think things would change this time around. He was fully expecting to get his feelings crushed. But maybe one day you would take all of those things that had haunted him. The box full of reminders of you. Maybe if you took that with you this time around, maybe he’d truly get over you. And then you would stay in his memories.

—————————————————————————

author’s note 2.0: it is most definitely recommended to listen while reading ;D most of the lyrics were used ^

[stoic--rose]

just finished persona 1, spoilers under the cut

alright now that we've weeded out all the JOKESTERS, i loved this game, i love the characters, story, surreal atmosphere and setting, all that jazz. that being said those last few dungeons, ESPECIALLY avidya world, gave me so much heartache and grief, since grinding wasnt a mindless task i could just zone out to, since some of the encounters have enemies that either null or reflect magic or guns, so you have to be conscious of what's going on in the battle, and it just drove me up the wall near the end. that being said, the 7 hours of endgame grinding really paid off when i got to absolutely stomp pandora into the pavement with heiroglyphein. one of the most liberating feelings ive ever gotten playing an rpg. also, i dont think i like persona's demon system. i wish that you got the actual demon itself like you do in normal smt, rather than these stupid cards, and im especially not a huge fan of the fact that theres persona rank, persona level, and the persona's level, it was mad confusing and it took me until literally the final dungeon of the game to fully understand it. i also feel like ranking up personas takes WAY too fucking long, and the encounter rates are pretty crazy in places like the overworld map.

next, specific comments on the psp version, i didnt jive with the alternate soundtrack at first but it definitely grew on me over time. and some songs like bloody destiny absolutely fuckin kick ass. still not used to the original names though, nanjo will always be nate to me. also wasn't a huge fan of the new world map at first, since i do prefer the janky ass 3D overworld map of the ps1 version aesthetically, but i think that the new 2D map is just a lot better from a gameplay standpoint, it's a lot easier to navigate and you don't get lost as easily. sorry cate, gonna have to give this point to the psp version........ i also do GREATLY appreciate the skip feature they put into the battles, i played up until about the end of the sebec building in the ps1 version before just giving the fuck up because of how damn slow the battles were, it drove me nuts. after seeing how much grinding i ended up doing at the end of the game in my playthrough, i know for a fact i would have just given up if i kept going with the ps1 version. that being said, i think i definitely want to give the ps1 version another shot at some point, i kinda love how shitty the localization is, stuff like that is always fascinating to me

final playtime was 147:18, which is probably the longest time ive ever spent on an rpg just beating the main story, not going for anything like 100%. played on normal mode, took the SEBEC route, brown was my chosen party member. overall, i really loved persona 1 and will definitely be playing it again. im especially excited to check out the other routes, although i might do my other playthroughs on easy mode just to save my sanity. i did my time, i beat this game with no save states or fast forward on an original psp, i earned this

[kristiemewisstan]

The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology Review (or me slowly going from spiraling in excitement to madness to sadness in 1 hour):

The Black Dog-

SO GOOD THIS IS SO GOOD IM YELLING THIS HAS MY FAV PRODUCTIKN THUS FAR I STILL XANT BELIEVE IT EITHER TAYLOR WHAT TGE FUCK | listen 2 cause I was to hype to truly listen, the magic fabric of her dreamin’ 🥺, oh the original father cheated song, DO YOU HATE ME? ooooof the fact that she felt made fun of by him and still went on to do her shit is so strong and I love her, your honor

imgonnagetyouback-

This one is VERY GOLD RUSH and I’m in love (I’m so sorry I’m not gonna be able to be unbiased rn because I’m too fucking excited), the ahh ahhhhs are so GOOOOOOODDDDD

The Albatross-

“One less temptress one less dagger to sharpen” OOF I feel like I’m in terrible danger of a heart attack, Taylor, I-I Love This Song So Much it’s so folklore

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus-

THIS IS SO GOOOOOOOOOD TAYLOR WHAY THE FUCK MAN, Certified Horse Girl, I’m gonna need to be medicated after this

How Did It End?-

I HEREBY CONDUCT THIS POSTMORTEM IS SUCH A HARD LINE TO START A SONG WITH, the amount of piano overall in these pleases me IMMENSELY, SITTING IN A TREE D-Y-I-N-G yeah Taylor that’s what YOU ARE DOING TO ME

So High School-

THIS IS WHAT I WANTED THE WHOLE ALBUM TO BE, 💯 made to vibe like a coming of age story, “YOU GONNA MARRY KISS OR KILL ME” I LOVE HER, bridge goes HARD

I Hate It Here-

scared to go outside, OH MU GOD JUST THE WHOLE SONG I KEEP WANTING TO WRITE LYRICS DOWN, so folklore, this ones it, ITS IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

thanK you aIMee-

Oh so we cheated okay Joe I see how it is your days are numbered, SING FUCK YOU AIMEE, HELL YEAH TAYLOR, ID WRIT A THOUSAND SONGS THE YOU FIND UNCOOL, ITS ON SIGHT, OH ITS HAPPY NOW YAY

I Look in People’s Windows-

Okay stalker much lol, this one is sad :(, very pretty though I’m sorry I can’t focus on the lyrics I’m too hype, very folklore so very sad

The Prophecy-

THIS SOUNDS LIKE ANOTHER SONG BUT I CANT PLACE IT it’s gonna kill me, “who do I have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy” rip my heart out my god, DONT NEED MONEY JUST SOMEONE WHO WANTS MY COMPANY, also a very sad one

Cassandra-

snake mention 🐍, THE ALTO UNDERLAY OH MY GOD, I normally am not the largest fan of vocal layering when it’s this obviously but this is absolutely lovely, this one tells a VERY GOOD story, “BUT THEY NEVER SPARED A BRICK FOR MY SOUL” OOOOOOF

Peter-

the piano started off this song and I immediately smiled and it ends up being such a bittersweet song, “promises oceans deep but never to keep” these songs rip my heart more and more and more, CAUSE LOVES NEVER LOST WHEN PERSPECTIVE IS EARNED this really hurt me, this longing hurts me

The Bolter-

She’s a runner she’s a track star! THE CHORUS ugh I love it Taylor why do you have to be so good, yeah this one was very good and I relate to being scared of commitment after heartache SOOO MUCH

Robin-

“Strings tied to lovers” IM CRYING, “ALL THIS SHOWMANSHIP TO KEEP IT” JOSEPH YOU FUMBLED SO HARD, THE INVISIBLE STRING RIFF IM ALREADY CRYING YOU DIDNT NEED TO DO THAT TO ME, i will never be able to listen to this song and invisible string in the same day I think it’s genuinely break me

The Manuscript-

the opening piano made me close my eyes and take a deep breath in, New Year’s Day vibes BUT SAD, oh god you know what I’ll kill him, I’ll take the hit, she knew what the agony had been for 🥹 fuck

First Listen Overall- 10/10

I have no notes it was everything I dreamed the actual album would be Taylor please let me buy this on vinyl I need to have it in my grasp also please give me the lyrics written out so I can analyze it plz

I don’t have a favorite they are all my favorite you could pay me to choose

[riddleredcoats]

tell me about celene and mythal. TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!! TELL ME ABOUT CELENE AND MYTHAL!!!!!

tell me about celene and mythal. please.

please.

I- well, I assume this is about that fantastic Morrigan post that @ammoniteflesh did that I butted in with my ceaseless love about Orlais? I can do that. Settle in, it's a long boi.

Spoilers for The Masked Empire, if you haven't read it (and you should) then this probably won't make much sense. And spoilers for pretty much everything else in DA, tbh.

More under the cut.

The Andraste parallels.

Basically, just copy-paste everything that links Mythal and Andraste in this section. This is a great post/example, though I don't think they are the same, rather just the same story repeating. But TLDR: Betrayal, Heartache, Justice, etc etc etc. I think this is a popular theory I am not going to go much deeper into it.

Celene is compared to Andraste multiple times throughout The Masked Empire. In the play (End-ish of Chapter 5), by Briala (early-ish Chapter 5), and the whole Empress of Fire (both song and the Burning of Halamshiral) debacle. Not only that, but Celene has some genuine thoughts, intentions, and actions about reforming Orlais that are close to what Andraste was doing; they are both trying to reform an imperialist power, granted in different ways (of course) but the parallels aren't meant to be exact.

Fun add-on: Hilarious that Celene basically destroys herself/her image by (in the Fandom, at least, while in Universe is intact for the most part) setting a fire. Because being set on fire was what finally elevated Andraste. It’s still a point for the parallel, just a contrasting parallel rather than a direct one.

Fun add-on, #2: Andraste is described as being a redhead, even in DAI by Cass I think, but is depicted as a white blonde (like Celene in The Masked Empire’s cover or Flemythal's white hair) in multiple paintings throughout Dragon Age. I don’t know what this means, but it’s a fun detail, nonetheless. 

Justice! (But not really)

Both Celene and Mythal are arbiters of Justice, technically.

Celene as empress doles out justice as she wishes (more or less, see Halamshiral), but more specifically she wants to create a more just society for all Orlesians. Yes, of course, there is still that delightful imperialism there, but it just do be like that sometimes. Mythal is described several times as someone who doles out justice, throughout the games by Codex and Solas. She passes judgement, solves conflicts and was ‘the good one’.

Like the story of Elgar’nan and Falon’Din, where she solved it by each having champions and stopping the start of a devastating war. Sorta like Celene solved the Gaspard/Teagan conflict at the beginning of The Masked Empire (end of Chapter 1).

They can both be fair and reasonable but are also known for taking more harsh paths (i.e.; the slums of Halamshiral and the sinner who took divine form and went to Elgar’nan). They both promised to help the elves, yet they both seem to have ditched that idea; Mythal has done arguably very little for centuries, and Celene, while helping, without Briala is less than radical about it.

The Vengeance thing is here too. Celene is, after all, no saint and actively cannot forgive Gaspard for anything he does. Ever. And is definitely on a ‘war path’ by the end of TME. Mythal, similarly seems to be on a warpath forever for ‘a reckoning that will shake the very heavens’, whatever the hell that means. Also, everything Flemythal says in Origins just screams bitterness and vengeance.

Betrayal

Both of these women have been betrayed by those closest to them.

Celene by her court, her champion (The Masked Empire), her nobles (The Masked Empire and Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts), and both of her cousins (Gaspard and Florianne). Also, arguably, Mantillon betrayed her by ‘manipulating’ her into killing her own servants, but that is a whole 'nother bag to untangle. Oh, and Briala of course, by using Celene’s feelings for her and stealing the ruby during a kiss at the end of The Masked Empire.

FleMythal by her daughter (Morrigan), her husband (Elgar’nan, though if you want to include Flemeth’s here it is also applicable, I guess), her sons (if that’s what Dirthamen and Falon’Din really were?), her fellow ‘Gods’. Oh, and Fen’Harel at the end of DAI, too.

Funny is that both Celene and Mythal when it comes to Briala and Solas’ betrayals are fine with it. Celene completely understands Briala by the end of The Masked Empire, as does Mythal at the end of DAI. And they are both betrayed by Solas and Briala in front of Eluvians Which… yeah.

Another parallel; both Briala and Solas say they must do it for ‘The People’, aka, the elves.

The Rebels

Solas and Briala parallel a lot on their own, but their relationships with Mythal and Celene are fascinating too, as is seeing how Solas/Briala view Mythal/Celene.

Obviously, both of these pairs parallel Shartan/Andraste. Actual mention of this is in the play in The Masked Empire for Celene/Briala (Chapter 5 of TME).

Each pair is obviously fond of one another, likely in different ways - but perhaps not.

Interestingly enough if Solas really was in service to Mythal first (like Cole seems to imply in Trespasser) before he rose to ‘Godhood’ then, like Celene/Briala, the relationship likely started privately and then grew into the public like once Briala became Marquise and Solas became Fen’Harel.

If we take what Cole said, ‘He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face’, as it really being about Solas/Mythal then we have another interesting parallel between Briala/Solas and Celene/Mythal.

Celene, arguably, makes Briala into what she is by sending her away after having her parents killed. Felassan helped and, of course, Briala herself is the way she is because she is herself, but Celene is the catalyst for her more abrupt change. Briala does not get a scar when she separates herself from Celene; at least not a physical one. Mythal makes Solas into what he is by asking him to come to her.

Interestingly, it is a contrasting parallel – because Celene lets Briala go while Mythal beacons Solas into her service. Which is super interesting, but that is more about the relationship between Briala/Celene than anything else.

The way both Solas/Briala describe Mythal/Celene in-game;

Briala, if you ask about Celene during the peace, but before you go to the servants' quarters, says: ‘Celene is the voice of reason in the empire…’

Solas, in that final Trespasser cutscene: ‘She [Mythal] was a voice of reason, the best of them, and in their lust for power they killed her.”

Granted, Solas is fonder while Briala is a bit harsher in her assessment, but Solas did ‘kill’ Mythal, and whatever wounds Mythal may have caused (which we will get there) have long passed while Celene and Briala’s breakup is more recent. This means very little but i suspect that much like Celene, Mythal also betrayed Solas twice. Once in the times of Arlathan - like Celene killing Briala's parents. And another in recent times - with the burning of Halamshiral. We don't know about it yet, but that's my bet.

Morrigan

Both Mythal (or Flemythal) and Celene have a protective relationship with Morrigan.

Celene is more of a patron and offers financial support and protection. And the protection seems to be mutual (or supposed to be, if Morrigan didn’t bail in WEWH, lmao). Mythal/Flemythal is well, her mother, who is supposed to protect her but who is trying to possess her.

Both of these relationships seem to range from a little contentious (Celene/Morrigan, if you believe the rumours of a palace servant) to very contentious (Flemythal/Morrigan).

Celene seems to not be as intense as Mythal. Morrigan speaks well of her, and Celene does not try to control her like Mythal did, Celene even ‘lets’ her go out into the world – something baby!Morrigan wanted – with her blessing and her protection. I legit find the relationship between them interesting, despite the arguments that apparently took place, lmao. (I also sorta lowkey ship it, but that’s another conversation).

To give the benefit of the doubt; we don’t know how much Mythal was ‘in charge’ of Flemeth (or if they can even act separately) so Morrigan’s abuse might not be Mythal’s fault. But there is no denying that she was abused and that whatever aspect of Mythal, The Mother there was, it absolutely did not act in Morrigan’s favour.

But that is yet another that has nothing to do with Celene/Mythal and all to do with Morrigan.

Symbols matter (or not)

Mythal fought with the Evanuris and the Valmonts fought the Drakons. A bit more *tinfoil* and a lot more thin, but if the Dragon is the divine form like we suspect from Codex Entry in the Temple of Mythal, then the Valmonts having gone to war with the Drakon line could be another interesting parallel. After all, the Drakons are represented by dragons. There is also, technically, the 'full' title of the quest where Celene appears in:

The Old Gods will call to you, From their Ancient Prisons they will sing. Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts, On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight, The First of My children, lost to night. - Canticle of Silence 3:6

Finally, and this is really silly and not really a parallel and most likely it’s just a fun coincidence, but the name Celene, which comes from the root word ‘Selene’, means ‘Moon’, which, of course, Mythal is the Goddess of.

Unimportant sidenote: I am pettily annoyed that most characters pronounce it ce-LI-ne when it should be ce-LE-ne. Because Celine is a legit different name and Celine-Celene have different meanings and root words, but okay I’ll allow it because I do like the pronunciation ‘Celine’ better, lmao.

[toony-fanfics]

Goodmorning, Dear! 🧇

~🌹~

Oneshot

Pairing: Alastor x Atlas (OC)

Word count: 881

Summary: just atlas waking up to breakfast for once!

Warnings: none!

~🌹~

The streets of Hell were never really known for being “relaxing” or “calm”. There were almost always screams, fights, music, anything you could think of. Hell never got less overwhelming, one just got used to everything after a while. You’re stuck there for all of eternity, after all. It’s something you have to get used to. However, there were places and times where it was bearable. Specifically, early morning at the Hazbin Hotel.

Usually Atlas had been the one to wake up first. After all, he was the hotel’s chef. Guests depended on him to provide sustenance. Granted, there weren’t many guests, but the staff also needed food in them to go about their day. Plus, the more time Atlas got to spend in the kitchen, the better. It was a safe place for him, one he didn’t share with many.

Except one, of course.

Though, this morning, Atlas woke up to the sound of Heartaches by Al Bowlly echoing throughout the hotel. Someone else was up, and by the music, Atlas could guess pretty well that the one awake was none other than Alastor. After all, Atlas didn’t know anyone else who listened to old music like this.

Sitting up in his bed, Atlas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before stretching. Glancing over to the mirror that hung up on the wall, the blue goat got out of his bed and walked towards the closet. Tilting his head slightly, he picked out a white long-sleeved button-up, along with a pair of blue jeans and suspenders. A bit out of the ordinary, since he usually wore his blue sweatervest, but he’d subconsciously wanted to look at least decent for Alastor. Another Al Bowlly song starts playing, and it wasn’t long before Atlas started humming along with it. Taking a hairbrush, the goat began fixing his hair a bit, not particularly enjoying the bed-head look.

The goat takes a step back and observes himself in the mirror. With a smile, he sticks his thumbs under his suspenders and rocks back and forth for a moment, nodding before grabbing a dark blue tie. Draping it over his neck, he got distracted by the multitude of shoes he had. With a hum, he finally slips on his black oxford shoes, and steps out of his room with a stretch. The music gets noticeably louder as Atlas heads down the hall.

Atlas also picked up a smell from the kitchen. It was food, that much he knew. None he’s ever made or tasted before, though, since the smell was unrecognizable. Stepping into the kitchen with a head tilt, the blue demon spots Alastor at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Another Al Bowlly song begins to play, and Alastor hums along, the soft, melodic tone of his voice wrapping its way around Atlas like a warm hug on a cold autumn day. With a smile, the demon made his way over and hugged Alastor from behind. The radio demon tensed up momentarily, softening milliseconds after realizing who the culprit was.

“And a very good morning to you as well, my dear. I trust that you slept alright?” Alastor asks, glancing down at Atlas. The goat shrugs, leaning into the taller demon.

“I slept in. ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Nonsense, cher! No trouble at all, I assure you. You needed the rest. After all, a fine chef such as yourself needs to be at his best!” Alastor reassured.

Atlas smiles a bit before his eyes flicked down to the skillet on the stove. He’d recognized pecans in there, though wasn’t sure why. “Whatcha makin’?” He asked. Alastor’s grin seems to grow in excitement, as if he’d been waiting for Atlas to ask him that.

“Why, I’m making something my mother used to make me for breakfast when I was a boy! Sweet potato-pecan waffles. They’re absolutely delightful, my dear. You’ll love them!” He spoke, swaying along with the next song that played. Atlas chuckled a little bit.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard of those. Maybe I should try makin’ ‘em at some point.” The smaller demon mumbled, his mind drifting off. What other foods did Alastor like? Maybe if he figured out a way to subtly ask, he could make them for the taller demon, or-

Atlas was snapped out of his thoughts when Alastor began tying the untied tie around his neck. A small laugh escaped the blue demon as he realized he’d completely forgotten to tie it.

“My dear, I have to say… I find this little fad you’re trying to start quite humorous!” The radio demon spoke, laughing as he finished the job, patting Atlas’ chest. “Tell me, mon cher, what’s the occasion? You’re dressed quite differently this morning.”

“No occasion. Jus’ wanted to switch it up a lil’ bit. Y’like it?” The goat asks, sticking his thumbs through his suspenders just as he’d done in his room. Alastor tilts his head while staring down at Atlas, a look of adoration forming in his eyes.

“It’s wonderful, darling. Quite becoming on you, I must say! Now! How about some waffles?”

Atlas smiles and nods, and with that, the two sit down at the counter, waffles in front of them as they spent the morning talking and laughing.

[nova-they-exist-yup]

Hey I uh. How do you think HMS and Sanders sides would interact with each other on an individual level? What would each they think of eachother? I know you've gone into some detail on ao3, but there's an awful lot of 1-1 interactions to be had and do you think any of them could potentially be interesting?

Idk I'm curious what your thoughts and opinions are. I feel like Mind may end up intimidating a lot of them tbh, on purpose or not.

ooooooo i have many thoughts

Soul & Remus- best friends. they meet and they have a sick ass boss battle and then they’re like “so when do you wanna meet up?” they play SO MANY PRANKS on EVERYONE ELSE and are just so ksjaisnsksnsjsn

Mind & Janus- They get along semi-well. They get into debates often that always end up extremely off topic yet heated. Like they could be arguing about who did it in a murder mystery, and then 30 minutes later they’re arguing about which cereal is the best. Janus is seriously concerned about Mind’s agenda tho.

Mind & Logan- They get along well. At first. And then Mind does something that makes Logan snap like he did in dwit but FAR WORSE. After that Logan apologizes but doesn’t forgive Mind for whatever he said. After that they get along well again. They also watch Death in Paradise a lot. So yeah.

Heart & Patton- Patton immediately adopts him. Heart (accidentally) manipulates Patton to the point where he takes his side on literally anything. It takes a talking from Janus for Patton to get untangled from the guilt tripping. But they do get along pretty nicely. Heart also introduces Patton to Bluey and he LOVES IT.

Heart & Virgil- Eh. They know each other, as Patton adopted them both, they talk sometimes. Such and such. They do bond over music though. Virgil infected Heart with emo music and now he blasts Paramore at 3am because he’s a tiny bit down.

Soul & Roman- oh they hate each other at first. Like absolutely despise. They get into a boss battle and Soul wins, Roman is like ‘fuck no, rematch’ and then proceeds to get beat up like 9272827 times. When they do get along though they’re the best duet to ever sing a song. Literally they harmonize so well. And they watch Disney until like 5am.

BONUS: Whole & Thomas- They bond over the whole having different parts of yourself as actual people thing. Thomas helps Whole with his headaches, heartaches, and cramps, and Whole helps Thomas with social anxiety. They’re pretty good friends and would be great roommates.

I really want to write a fic where it’s literally just sides and HMS shenanigans but i want to add lore but don’t know how to lmao

[tubedog-todd]

i love you so fucking much like a 3-4/10 : just doesnt read as a glass animals album its like yeah if you gave this from a generic soft pop band yeah bam like a fucking 7 or some shit but this is HTBAHB Glass Animals. ZABA DUDE DO NOT FORGET ZABA!!!

painfully generic? Too poppy this time in an uninteresting way. personally i see no complete cohesive idea/theme/vibe tying everything together (yeah i know love and heartache but it does not show through with the track cohesion)the songs are so disjointed its genuinely a detriment. (filler tracks exist for a reason dumbshits)

-show pony: do dont like the chorus, too sharp? the audio is sharp and does not sound too nice, the sharp guitar though is acceptable, rhyming is ... interesting, leaves the song droning over and over, trying to drill the chorus in your head. i dont understand what its trying to set up. guitar compression is probably the best thing

-whathehellishappening : mild whiplash transition between songs but i get it,its kinda funny,again pretty unassuming each bridge/verse sounds too similar to differentiate them, again plain and unobtrusive, catchy chorus hmmm i wonder why,ends funny but i wont get why you wouldnt lead into a break track

-creatures in heaven : a little more interesting pacing wise,more personable,snappy?, again chorus is pretty prominent to a more notable amount, interest break with the space elements, wait why are there space elements, is this supposed to bright the dichotomy of heaven and earth

-wonderful nothing : start with the title oh fun, wait why are all of these songs starting with their title,i like the vocals more becuase they dont force themselves into higher notes where you can hear the strain, the beginning into the main song is funky and probably the best beat tbh,idk bdsm kink shit i like, nice layering i enjoy as the song goes but couldve been shortened, repeats a bit too much.

-a tear in space : To be honest i was so excited by this beginning riff that i wanted Wonderful Nothing to somehow lead into, these songs are so disjointed it feels like im being shoved around with no direction with how to process what im being told,rhyme dog with floor, look man i like it because of the constant variety of vocal style, BUT dude the auto tune fucking sucks and is really jarring, again catchy chorus lyrics cmon guys an album ISNT supposed to be 10 signles lumped together you NEED glue the velcro or at least something, i really like the violin/synth i just really like how light it is

i cant make you fall in love again : guitars fine WAIT THE TITLE AGAIN? jeeeeeez dudes, jumps in pretty fast with trying to hook in the chorus, does he always sing with the chorus staying at the same note. really unobtrusive lyrics wise, i enjoy his sultrier voice but at least he doesnt try to strain himself too bad but its noticable again, bland

how i learned to love the bomb : THIS IS SEX BOMBOMB AND W- sorry, this one and the previous track blend together with the droning beats and singing. the chorus is nice with this one, i like the guitar but i swear i will not remember what makes these two different. at least its not saying its title every three seconds. reminds me of that 2016 era of popi just see nothing interesting in here

-white roses : TITLE STARTS WOOOOO, it just STARTS but not excitingly! Repeating repeating repeat the drill is here and its staying!!!! Space again, wait what why? who knows. just doesnt keep my attention with the lyrics or vocal inflections(except the auto tune which makes me physically recoil like where did this come from), chorus is fine, reapeating repeating repeating and CATCHY!!! COME ON GUYS LISTEN TO THE RA DIO,

-on the run : beginning is actually interesting, i like the weird vocal beat pretty funky at least for this album, i like how he sings this beginning BUT the chorus makes me want to scream, how does this TRANSITION SO BAD? again DRONING BORING, rest of the song is okay? the chorus is the worst part and is jarring and detrimental, kinda like how the autotune in any other part of the album is. unobtrusive and radio material....hm....

lost in the ocean : i like the low key ukelele and singing, chorus is again pretty stripped but he just has more interesting inflections that lead the song forward. LOVE the background singing! the gradual growth of the song lends itself to something that BARELY resembles a glass animals songs, yes a slow and mournful one but its there. the hearts still there. Its just....still a little too obvious on the hey im a single yeah! swaying in the kitchen song, very simple and doowoppy. Cute! Bad ending to an album

Ranking : lost in the ocean 6/10 a tear in space 5/10 creature in heaven 5/10 wonderful nothings 5/10 -frankly i dont care how the rest fall. i wont listen to them willingly ever again-

OVERALL : dissapointing! Go listen to Dreamland (i think its a way better album than this. Get over ur hate boner on Heat Waves) or better yet! ZABA or HTBAHB!!!

[themuse-if]

Another 20 (or so) Questions with Karla Reyes

Interviewer: Welcome to another installment of our character interviews, where we dive deep into the lives and minds of our favorite cast members of The Muse. Today, we have Karla Reyes with us, our musically inclined painter. Karla, thank you for joining us. Could you start by telling us what made you want to pursue Studio Arts?

Karla: Hey, thanks for having me. So you know how they always have kids finger painting in preschool, well that was my favorite part of every day. As I got older and was allowed to just select an elective I always chose art. My high school art teacher Mr. Davis was really cool. He always had music playing in class, usually just instrumental stuff, but the music always fit the vibe and really influenced my work.

Interviewer: Describe your art, particularly your watercolor work, in your own words.

Karla: *gets thoughtful* Mmm I enjoy movement and the human form. The way that color can really set the tone, like the image could be the same, but if I use a different color palette it completely changes the direction of the piece. And music, usually my palette is found in songs. The tone provides me an array of colors and the rhythm gives the piece movement. Does that make sense?

Interviewer: I think so. How do you want to be seen by others?

Karla: I want to be seen as someone who is...natural. Like I hope people see who I am authentically. I'm a big believer in letting things play out and just existing in a way that isn't forced.

Interviewer: So just very go with the flow, I see. And how do you want your art to be seen by others?

Karla: Ok...that's not really easy to answer. Obviously everyone interprets art differently, as they should, but I think all I can ask for is that they feel something. I don't ever want someone to see my work and just think aww how pretty, I want them so actually feel something. It could be thought provoking, sensual, dark, lively, humorous. I just want people to see more than a beautiful object, I want them to take something away from it.

Interviewer: Of course, no artist wants people to view their work in a shallow way. What traits do you value most in a friend?

Karla: I'm pretty relaxed so I am usually drawn to people who are more outgoing. As long as someone has a good vibe and they're drama free then I think we can be friends.

Interviewer: Sounds simple enough. What is your latest obsession?

Karla: Nothing new really just the usual. I've been working on a new collection centered around love and heartache. It's not for an assignment or anything, I'm just trying to work through some stuff and painting is my favorite outlet.

Interviewer: You've told me some things you look for in a friend, but could you describe your ideal best friend?

Karla: Someone who is creative and outgoing, who shares my love for art and music. I value honesty and authenticity in a friend, someone that I feel comfortable with. It should be natural and effortless.

Interviewer: And what about your ideal partner?

Karla: *sighs* Should have seen that one coming. Usually I go for people that are sweet and bubbly. I'm a bit more chill and I just find people like that really refreshing, like rain on a hot summer day.

Interviewer: Aww that's actually really cute. What was your first kiss like?

Karla: It was pretty normal a quick peck with my best friend. We were in middle school and it was awkward we never talked about it after.

Interviewer: And have you ever been in love?

Karla: Oh god...I really hate this question. Yes I have been in love. I don't really want to go into detail.

Interviewer: Ok then, when was your last relationship, and why did it end?

Karla: Come on. You're killing me here. As I'm sure you already know I broke up with Faye at the end of last spring semester. It wasn't because I didn't love her or that she stopped loving me. It just all felt too complicated and neither of us are really good with conflict. I miss her like hell though, but I think this space is for the best. Like I wish we could have made it work, but I think we both just need some time to focus on ourselves.

Interviewer: I feel like you only gave me half an answer, but I won't press you I can tell you would prefer not to go into to much detail. Ok next question. What’s your ideal Friday night?

Karla: My ideal Friday night is pretty simple, friends, food, and live music. Just a nice night surrounded by my favorite things.

Interviewer: What’s the last song you listened to?

Karla: "Young Love" by Cleo Sol.

Interviewer: How do you behave in a relationship?

Karla: I try to be open and communicative, but as I've learned I really struggle with conflict. It's hard for me to 100% trust my partner if I feel like that trust has been broken. Honestly I just don't like drama, I kind of shut down if things start to feel off.

Interviewer: Interesting. Do you approach those you’re interested in or let them come to you?

Karla: It depends on the situation. I'm open to both approaches, but I think it's important to be genuine and authentic in any interaction.

Interviewer: What is your biggest pet peeve?

Karla: I can't stand people who are arrogant or disrespectful. I believe in treating others with kindness and respect.

Interviewer: What do you notice first about a person?

Karla: *chuckle and tucks her hair behind her ear* Their laugh. Some people laugh with their who body while others let out just a tiny giggle. I dunno I feel like you can tell a lot about a person by how they express their joy.

Interviewer: Aww that's really cute, and so true. Ok time for our last question. What did you dream about last night?

Karla: *gets a twinkle in their eye* Honestly I'd rather not say. Dreams can be very personal...if you know what I mean. *chuckles* So I'll just let you use your imagination.

Interviewer: *clears their throat* Oh uh, I see. Well that's all the time we have for today. Thank you so much for coming in and sharing more of your story with us!