#one of the greatest songs about unrequited love

[thequietabsolute]

what is the 13th song on your on repeat playlist?

[innerfare]

Law Leaving - Part 1.5

Summary: Law is stewing on leaving you behind; it's only Part 1.5 instead of Part 2 because it's just a shorter drabble from Law's POV. Reader is a Heart Pirate and marine biologist. Features mutual pining and unrequited love. This thing I wrote here could be considered a prequel if you want to read it, and you can read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Gn!Reader

Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff

CW: SFW // None

Word Count: 575

———

Law would rather die than say it out loud, but the Straw Hats were pretty good company. He had to hide his smile multiple times as they chattered over their snacks and drinks, sprawled across the deck of their quirky ship without a care in the world. The journey from Punk Hazard to Dressrosa, he hoped, would be a boring one. 

Law himself took the break in commotion to sit down, his back against the railing, and let his mind wander a bit. Naturally, his thoughts went straight to you. 

He wondered if you had gotten your hands on any new algae samples, if you had finished that book he bought you on Island Whales, if you were still obsessed with that one song or if you had a new one, if you had made any progress on getting down to just one cup of coffee per day, if  on colder nights you were making good use of the sealskin blanket he’d given you, what shade of blue was on your nails. 

More importantly, he wondered if you had thought of him at all, if you wanted to update him on your coffee habits, if you wanted to share any new songs you found with him, if the spot beside you remained empty at meal times, if you missed his opinions on your marine research, if his yellow and black hoodie was still your favorite or if you’d found another. 

The fear of you finding another reached into his chest, a frozen hand clutching his heart. He rubbed his hand up and down the spot in hopes of soothing himself but to no avail. His greatest fear was the Donquixote family finding and torturing you, but there was another fear creeping up on that one, threatening to relegate it to second place: the fear that you would grow weary of waiting. 

And how selfish was that, for a small part of him to care more about your loyalty than your safety? He knew you could spit in his face and he would still lay down his life for you, but he didn’t want you to spit in his face. He wanted you to hold his cheeks in your cold hands like you’d done that one late night in the lab and press a warm kiss to his lips, slow and chaste, little more than a promise to reciprocate should he decide escalate. He hadn’t escalated, though, hadn’t been able to, not with his past weighing on him. 

He didn’t expect to see you again, though he hadn’t exactly told you that. He hadn’t been man enough to confront you with what he felt was the truth. He’d been caught between the fear you would try to accompany him if you knew how dire it was and the fear you wouldn’t, that you didn’t care enough.  

The Straw Hats erupted into laughter, and Law lowered his head, a subconscious fear of them laughing at him lurking in the back of his head. Who was he to assume you were even his to set free? It was rather laughable. But in that moment, he decided he didn’t care how comical the thought of you loving someone like him was. If- no, when, he made it out of Dressrosa, he’d make sure there were no gray areas in your relationship. Either you loved him, or you didn’t, but you were going to know how he felt about you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 will be up tomorrow! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[clawsmiic]

"If I'm being honest, no I'm not holding up okay."

Repost from other account

1.9k words

CW: Past Stancy mention, current Jancy, past feelings mention, and past/current unrequited love (both)

Prom Night, 1985

Prom night, supposedly one of the greatest nights of teenagers' lives. That's a sentiment Steve definitely wouldn't agree with, hanging out outside his own senior prom. He didn't even know why he bothered coming, knowing full well he'd see them together. Hand in hand, arm in arm, dancing to every cheesy slow song the DJ put on. As much as Steve tried to be supportive or ignore it...

He just wasn't over his ex-girlfriend yet.

But that didn't stop him from trying to be the bigger man in the situation. That's what Steve grew into being, the bigger person. No more being a total asshole for the sake of his own feelings. That's something Junior year Steve would do.

"Well, don't you just look so lively tonight." His trance breaks as he's approached by you, coming from the double doors of the Gym hallway not too far away.

"I'm not in the mood tonight."

Steve sounded both fed up and disgusted with your antics already. Even if this was just the first thing you said anything to him all day.

You lean against the cold brick gym wall. Feeling the rough bumps of the hard surface on your back and through your dress.

"Rough night, champ?" Steve sighs, rubbing his eyes, raw from a few minutes of being emotional.

"You don't know the half of it." Glancing over, he sees you for the first time. Admiring the floor length red dress, you always looked good in red. You looked good in everything, at least in his mind.

"Look at you, all dressed up and presentable for once." You smirk at his joke, making him chuckle and smile.

"I always look presentable thank you prick." Smirking to yourself before looking back at him.

"You look good in a tuxedo... Y'know, for you."

"Thanks for the backhanded compliment. Anything good from you is a rarity." You laugh, making him smile even wider. His eyes shift around the parking lot, watching cars pull in, and other kids come to join the party going on inside.

"What're you even doing out here by yourself? I thought you'd be in there with like 9 different girls trying to dance with you at once." He scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You know, too many options beating down my door. Couldn't disappoint them all."

"Came stag too, huh?" He just nods in response, not saying anything as you both look up into the inky night sky. The only sound to fill the cold April night air was the crickets chirping and distant chatting of other students.

"Are you holding up okay? I saw them dancing inside and... I know the breakup was hard for you, so I just thought I'd check up on you..."

Steve let out a rough sigh, feeling like a complete idiot pining for his ex-girlfriend still. Being broken up for almost 5 months now. He couldn't let her go in his head, they were each other's first loves. At least she was to him.

All of that came crashing to a halt after everything back in November.

"If I'm being honest, no I'm not holding up okay."

"I know I'm not a therapist or anything..." You shrug, glancing back at him as you nervously chew on your thumbnail.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I've been talking to Dustin for months about it and no matter how much I try I can't get past it. Like Nancy's cast some kind of spell to stick with me or something." He sighs, looking at the asphalt as he swallows harshly.

"Now we can hardly make eye contact for more than 3 seconds before she turns away... God, she must hate me."

"Steve, she doesn't hate you. She's probably just feeling awkward about everything and trying to respect her new relationship by not hanging around her ex-boyfriend. They're just trying to find their footing as a couple." You reassure him, leaning over to give him a squeeze on his shoulder. Thinking about what he said, you shake your head, grinning at the thought of Dustin.

"And really Steve? Dustin. He's like 14 and barely knows how to handle having a crush yet. He's never even had a girlfriend yet. I know he's smart for his age, but c'mon."

"I know! He's just a great listener. He knows a lot for his age, it's actually kinda scary." You roll your eyes looking at the ground, starting to laugh to yourself.

"What?" His full attention is on you now, a small smile pulling at his lips as he watches you start to laugh harder.

"Nothing I just..." You cover your mouth, snickering again.

"I just never pictured myself giving you of all people a pep talk... You're you for crying out loud. Steven "The Hair" Harrington." You grin, bumping his arm with your elbow.

"King Steve... You're literally the most popular guy in the entire school, and I'm... Me." He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's the fun thing. We're so different, so we can see our point of view while still seeing each other's... Plus, it's nice not having someone around trying to kiss my ass constantly."

"Yeah, I'll just kick your ass instead." You smirk, pressing off the wall, your heels click as you step in front of him.

"Look, I know it hurts now, but it'll pass eventually... And if I can be honest with you... You could do so much better than Nancy frickin' Wheeler."

Steve could feel his eyebrows shooting up in amusement as you got in front of him. For some odd reason, just standing there in your presence felt somewhat calming suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Who'd you have in mind then?"

"I don't know," you think for a second and shrug, "Farrah Fawcett? I think she'd think you were cute. Celebrity or not?"

"Farrah Fawcett? You think Farrah Fawcett, one of the most famous women alive, would want me?"

"Yeah! You're a hot guy, why wouldn't she?!" It's his turn to laugh now, shaking his head as he bites his lip.

"Where the hell would I even meet her?"

"I don't know! I thought we were talking hypothetically." Steve nodded, his face turning serious again.

"It's just... It's hard looking past Nancy, y'know. She was the first girl I ever loved."

"I'm aware, Steve. It's just not always the best thing to dwell on. I'm talking from experience." You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh. Nervous to be this honest, but if it helps get the point across, then so be it.

"Can I be honest with you about something?"

Steve looks at you, seeing how nervous you look to talk. His lips part slightly as he nods.

"Of course."

"I used to have a massive crush on Jonathan ages ago and when he started showing an interest in Nancy it killed me... But he's my friend, so I encouraged him. It killed me but I got over it."

You turn your head, looking up at the sky again, taking in the shining stars above the two of you. Feeling embarrassed about laying everything out there for someone you've barely gotten to know again.

"Took a while but time heals most wounds. So, just know I'm here for you because I know what it feels like... Kind of."

Steve felt your pain as you talked about how you couldn't be with Jonathan, and how that's basically how he felt about Nancy in all honesty.

Silence fell over the two of you as you both looked out to the sky, admiring the stars again. Steve looks over at you, feeling somewhat peaceful. Yet still wanting to ask so many questions.

"How'd you do it? Stay strong like that. I can barely be in a room with her right now."

"I talked to my family. That helped a lot... But I know you aren't the closest to your parents, so that's why I asked if you wanted to talk about it with me." You smile softly, lips turning up as you half shrugged at his question.

"I know we weren't always on the best of terms, but you're my friend and... I care about you."

"We're friends again?" His eyes seemed to light up almost, just like he was a little kid again. Over the past year he's felt like you two were bonding. But never wanted to ask out of fear.

Tension fills the air between you two. It's been this way since you two started becoming friends again. Going through hell together alongside the couple, Steve was trying to avoid like the plague.

"Well you know, when you nearly die fighting inner dimensional monsters together you tend to start caring about their well-being again... So, in a way, I guess we have to thank them for something at least."

Steve smirks before shaking his head.

"Part of me likes to think we'd be friends again someday."

"Who knows." You add, silence falling between you again. It's not long before Steve shifts, pushing himself off the wall and looking at you.

"So let’s say, hypothetically, that I was stuck at this stupid prom without a date and I had no one else to ask but you...”

"Mmm. Mmhm, hypothetically." You nod along, fighting back the urge to smirk.

"Go on."

Steve looked away for a second, collecting his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, turning back to you.

"And, hypothetically, I might need to spend our senior prom dancing, like my life depends on it, because it's possibly the last fun night before the rest of our lives."

"I'm starting to think you don't know what the word hypothetically means."

"Shush," he cuts you off, making you giggle before he continues, "now, hypothetically, would you be interested in dancing with me?"

You nod, looking like you were really thinking about it. As if you didn't know your answer already.

"Well, hypothetically," you play along, making sure to hold eye contact, "I might be inclined to say yes... If it wasn't a hypothetical, of course."

You rub your hand over your mouth, smirking behind it. He holds eye contact, faking a scoff as he stares.

"You're gonna make me ask?" You nod, tongue going to his cheek as he also nods.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"I wouldn't be saying that to a girl you're about to ask to prom Steve." He chuckles, nodding. You got him there.

His expression shifts to a goofy grin as he sighs with a slight relief.

"You think you can survive the night without making fun of me?" He smirks, holding his hand out for you to grab, you smile back at him taking it gently. Giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't know about the whole night, but I can sure try my best." Rolling his eyes, he pulls you into his side, lacing his arm around your waist.

You look up at him, your gaze meeting again. Taking in his deep brown eyes and soft smile brings... Old feelings from years ago bubble back up.

Your mouth opens to say something, anything at all. But the words won't come out as your heartbeat picks up speed.

That old crush you had on your old friend never really went away over all these years.

Or at least that's what you think at the moment.

[thefeastandthefast]

The express episodes have dropped so soon I will be put out of my misery and know exactly what the hell is going on with Ji Yong.

But before I dive in, jotting down these thoughts as of episode 29 to see if I'll be eating my words later.

SPOILERS, OBVIOUSLY:

His line about Song Mo one day understanding his true intentions (after expounding on what were supposedly his intentions in front of all of Prince Qing’s hidden troops just a moment earlier) makes it clear to me that there’s more to his actions than self-professed naked political ambition.

Plus, we know from episode 25 that he is probing into the Duke of Ding’s case and even leveraging his services as advisor and strategist to bargain for information from Prince Qing. There is little to no reason for him to care about this or put himself and his ambitions on the line, so why go to all the trouble?

One of my favorite aspects of this show is Ji Yong as foil to Dou Zhao, each representing a different attitude and approach to the problem of fate and will. I see why some may read Ji Yong as being in unrequited love but to me he reads more like DZ's platonic soulmate (even Granny, who introduced them with an eye for matchmaking, couldn’t see them as a couple!) After all, she is the only other person who is aware, as far as he knows, that they’re in Life 2.0, with the opportunity and burden of choosing differently.

Most importantly he doesn’t see himself in that light- in episode 26, he explicitly laments that friendship never takes precedence over romantic love. The feeling I got from his little monologue is not bitterness about the inability to “upgrade” to romantic love with Dou Zhao, but disappointment in his hope that Dou Zhao would value their special platonic love in the same way he does. As @therukurals reminded me- Ji Yong was pleased when Dou Zhao and Song Mo got together; it's only after Song Mo started going down the same path of Life 1.0 that he began to persuade DZ to leave her doomed husband to save herself.

He also keeps using the term 知己 (one who knows the self) to describe her, which is usually a word for friends of implicit mutual understanding, not romantic partners. But this pragmatist who doesn’t believe he can change much of anything also doesn't hesitate to throw his small stones into the river behind the scenes, perhaps hoping that the tiny ripples that result might alter Dou Zhao’s trajectory just a little before they are subsumed by the river of fate's overwhelming current, to shift her ending away from tragedy again. (Remembering his at-all-costs approach to pushing Dou Ming and Wei Tingyu together...)

I think he believes in the unforgiving immutable larger framework of fate, where the set and story remain but the players can change, whereas Dou Zhao hopes to rewrite the story altogether. In this light, it makes sense that he throws his lot in with Prince Qing once again in Life 2.0 even knowing the ending for himself if he does. He thinks he's found the key- when fate doesn't concern itself with intentions, only actions and consequences, then the greatest advantage is being in a position to place the players and direct the action.

Side note: I find his nickname for her super interesting (which unfortunately isn't translated in the subs) but haven't yet formulated coherent thoughts about it. He calls her Zhuang Zhou aka Zhuangzi aka the philosopher who dreamed he was a butterfly and wondered if in fact, it was a butterfly dreaming it was the philosopher.

[todoriin]

tidal waves | ayato is looking for a spouse. he comes to you.

cw: mentions of pregnancy, ayato kind of toxic (sry), coercion, manipulation, arranged marriage, unrequited love, ambiguous ending.

“Our new diplomatic relationships with Fontaine are moving along smoother than I imagined.”

The blue-haired head of Kamisato Clan sits before you comfortably, happily relaying the events that occurred during the time he was away from Inazuma. The sunlight shines delicately over you, creeping through the leaves of the sakura blooms that hang overhead. Often, the leaves fall around and onto you, summoning drizzles of pink.

Ayato remains the centre of your attention, though, the colour palette of spring enchanting when it is surrounding him. 

“I’m happy to hear that. Trustworthy and hardworking, that’s our Yashiro Commissioner for you,” you praise, raising your cup of tea to your lips. 

“No doubt this will bring forth some interesting business opportunities for you, correct?”

“Of course, as with any nation. However, my greatest concern with Fontaine is the travel time, but with their advanced technology, I doubt any rigorous human effort will be required during the process. I’m hoping it will be smooth for both parties.” 

A long time ago, you were ashamed of how long you could talk for. Now, with someone like Ayato listening to your every word, you don’t withhold any (negligible) information. 

(There is no news that will escape Ayato. He knows more than he lets on and has ears placed at all corners of Inazuma. Try as you may to keep something from him, the only thing you can truly control is when and how the information reaches him.) 

“Please, feel free to keep me updated. I am fascinated by Fontaine’s productivity with their machinery, I would love to learn more.”

With a humble bow of your head, you reassure him you will invite him so he may see for himself when the time comes. “Why did you invite me here, Ayato?” You ask, setting down your now empty tea cup with a clink. 

“Oh, yes, thank you for coming on such short notice. Hopefully you did not have to cut out any important matters for this meeting, did you?”

“I will always have time to see you. Arranging my schedule is no trouble if the Yashiro Commissioner needs me.” 

He blinks twice before his expression melts into something softer. “I am delighted to hear that. As for why I summoned you here today, well, I am hardly as young as I was when I first took up the mantle of Yashiro Commissioner. With every passing day, I am increasingly aware of my age.” He begins, violet eyes as unreadable as ever as they gaze into you, unyielding. It’s always hard to look away when you first get a glance.

(If you were to describe Kamisato Ayato, you’d compare him to an ocean. On the surface, harmless with his calm and predictable waves, reflecting the light of the sun in ripples, tempting you to take a step in.)

“Even Chiori made a comment about having to make me look younger.”

“Stop it- the wrinkles around your eyes aren’t that deep-”

“-Y/n. There is still no heir to the Kamisato Clan or the Yashiro Commission.”

“You won’t be giving up the mantle any time soon though, right?”

“Rest assured, I have no thoughts as such, but it is now the time to think about matrimony.”

You’re not sure why, but your stomach feels like a falling anvil, premonition settling in your bones like lead. “Why did you call me here, Ayato?”

An answer formulates in your head before he even needs to open his mouth, and it sounds out an awful song, one that causes your ears to bleed and knees to buckle. 

(You take your first step into the sea. The sand is silk beneath your feet, and the water splashes with your every step. You keep going until the water is up to your waist, knocking against your chest with each wave.)

“I want you to be my spouse.” 

No matter how many surprise meetings you have sat through with alarming news, none will ever shake you to your core like this one. For all the news of lost shipments, pirates that confiscated your products, and investment failures, nothing would have ever trained you for an occasion like this.

Professionalism is a delicate mask, and Ayato knows exactly how to chip away at it.

“No- no, I couldn’t,” you begin, nothing but a jumble of feelings that have turned you inside out like a kimono. “Ayato, I refuse.”

You? A Commissioner’s spouse? How detestable. You know the last thing Ayato could wish for you is a life of misery, confined to the chains of propriety, social etiquette, and societal management, but you also thought you’d be the last person he’d consider to be wed to. 

All these decades of friendship, was it just so it could lead to this finale? Did you ever know him like you truly thought you did? 

The monster disguised as a man sits himself beside you, sinking to his knees, and the white, rich fabrics of his attire pool around you. 

“I can promise you happiness, Y/n. Mora, safety, whatever you need, I’ll be at your beck and call.”

Happy? Married?

His gloved hand finds yours. It’s not warm, and his touch feels inhuman, but you don’t have it in you to pull away from him. “In collaboration with the resources from the Yashiro Commission, we could make your business operations much more efficient.”

“Can’t you find another partner? There are no shortages of elites who are looking for potential partners in Inazuma. I could talk to some candidates on your behalf to organise a meeting, I am certain no one could ever reject your hand in marriage-”

“-Then, why are you?”

“Why are you so persistent that it must be me?” 

“There are… no other individuals like you. I recognise that not all marriages need to be formed from love, but that does not exclude friendship. Our companionship is one I trust, you are my ideal candidate.”

“I would not make a good spouse.” You omit to tell him of your carefree qualities, that you have a business to run, and that you could not imagine a life bound to another, even if he is someone as dreamy as the Kamisato head. “I could not make you happy.”

“Guaranteeing my happiness does not have to be your duty.” His hands delicately trace the lines on your palms, you protest against the way they naturally curl at the sensation. 

“Then what will be?”

“Producing an heir to the Kamisato Clan.” 

He does not miss the way you shift uncomfortably in your position, or the subtle displeasure that clouds your eyes. Ayato’s not sure how successful he can be if he remains this persistent, every attempt seems to only push you further away, but if there’s anything he’s good at it is biding his time. The best lesson his time as the Yashiro Commissioner has taught him it’s that patience leads to success, and he’s willing to give you some time to figure it all out.

“I do not want to force you into something you do not want to partake in. You may have some time to think, I await to hear your answer once you are ready.” he gets up silently and quickly. It’s strange. You feel like you disappointed him. 

He strides out of the gardens, tea and sweets untouched. For all the years you have known him, this is the first time he leaves without escorting you out, showing you the retreating figure of his broad back.

What will you do? Ayato, above all else, is cunning and calculating; a terrifying trait of his. Everything he wants, he eventually gets, the art of patience is one he has mastered. The only thing you can liken him to is a fox biding its time to catch its prey.  

You will not remain ignorant to the fact that it appears this time, you are his prey.

He will find subtle ways to intercept in your business, he will take advantage of everything he knows about you and use it to your demise, everywhere you turn, he will be there. How long will it be until he sinks his teeth into you? 

That day, you go to sleep with an uneasy heart. You feel like you’re playing with a lit bomb, juggling with it so that it will explode when it is out of your hands. 

Three weeks later, you receive news that a shipment of yours suddenly caught fire, destroying everything that you were exporting, harming few of your employees in the process. 

Your time is up. 

(His hand grabs your ankle, and pulls you under.)

[occultbooks]

dylan's hilson playlist masterpost

THIS IS A LONG POST!

I have a lot of thoughts and opinions and you don't have to agree but they make me feel so sick to my stomach that I had to make a post. Music is, in my mind, one of the greatest things in the world. I'm very passionate about it. So, here is a (chronological) list of songs that remind me of House and Wilson.

You Don't Know Where Your Interest Lies (1967) - Simon & Garfunkel

S&G deep cut I love. One of their only singles that didn't end up on an album. This one is pretty straightforward. Could be from either perspective, but I like to think it's Wilson's perspective. The song starts:

You don't know that you love me You don't know, but I know that you do

and the second verse includes the line:

You may think that we're friends, all right But I won't let friendship get in my way

The vibe of the song is also much more musically intense than Simon & Garfunkel tend to veer in their love-related songs, making it aesthetically fitting to Hilson as well.

2. Starry Eyes (1979) - The Records

This one is slightly up to interpretation (not a very popular song so meanings aren't readily available) but it has a kind of melancholy unrequited "giving up" theme.

I don't wanna argue, there's nothing to say Get me out of your starry eyes and be on your way

I like to think of this one also as from Wilson's perspective, but he's pretending he's speaking on behalf of the hospital, offended at House acting in his own self-interest. Early season 8 "we're not friends anymore" vibes.

3. This Night (1983) - Billy Joel

Being on the same album as Leave a Tender Moment Alone, this one is very fitting to me. This one, in my head, is like House's perspective, alternate universe where Wilson isn't so repressed. The lyrics are so deliciously tragic to me even though the resolution of the song implies happy endings. Verse 2 makes me feel sick to my stomach:

I've been around, someone like me should know better Falling in love would be the worst thing I could do Didn't I say I needed time to forget her? Aren't you running from someone who's not over you?

UEGGHHGRHGAHGHR sorry this one I can't even be civil about. it makes me emotional

4. You Make Me Feel Like a Whore (1995) - Everclear

This one is self-explanatory but I'll preface a little bit before writing out some of the lyrics. This could be either House or Wilson perspective. Horniest middle-aged men in New Jersey. I feel like they're all over each other all the time. A bunch of freaks.

I take your word like it was gospel  I'm so eager to please  Yeah I like it when you talk to me  It feels so good inside your shadow  It's the place I need to be Yeah I know I need to climb you  Like a tree

Yeah. You guys know. The rest of the song is just as horny and I just...yeah.

5. Selfless, Cold and Composed (1997) - Ben Folds Five

House perspective for so many reasons. Many lyrics about someone telling you they're done with you and walking out, and you feeling like that's probably fair.

You don't owe me to be so polite You've done no wrong You've done no wrong Get out of my sight

but the one that fucks me up is

Come on baby now throw me A right to the chin Don't just stare like You never cared I know you did

Asking the other person to hit him to show that they care is such a House thing. Again: early season 8. This could realistically be any House relationship, really, but it's so Hilson breakup to me.

6. G.I.N.A.S.F.S. (2007) - Fall Out Boy

Fun fact: the song title stands for "Gay Is Not a Synonym For Shitty." Just thought that was interesting. Anyway, this is also from House's perspective. I could probably go into detail about every individual lyric but I'll try not to. This song is about yearning for someone you either can't have or shouldn't pursue. Post-canon (post-Wilson death) makes the most sense for most of the song but it could also be just House being in his own head and believing Wilson is too far away to reach.

Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns I sleep with your old shirts and walk through this house In your shoes, you know it's strange It's a strange way of saying that I know I'm supposed to love you

I feel like House probably wears Wilson's clothes after he dies. It makes me unbelievably sad to think about. Anyway, the second verse followed by the pre-chorus kills me:

I've already given up on myself twice Third time is the charm, third time is the charm Threw caution to the wind, but I've got a lousy arm And I've traced your shadows on the wall, now I kiss them Whenever I'm down, whenever I'm down Figured I'm not figuring myself out Things aren't the same anymore Some nights, they get so bad I almost pick up the phone

Thinking about House grieving...augh. They make me nauseous.

7. Away Frm U (2012) - Oberhofer

This song is about resisting someone who is shutting you out to try and keep them afloat. It doesn't have a lot of lyrics. It's very Wilson though.

You're pushing me away from you And there's nothing I can do And I can't fight all of your battles for you

That's about it.

8. Everyone But You (2017) - The Front Bottoms

The vibe of this song is fairly cliche, but "I hate everyone but you" as a concept is so delicious. It's also a little bit about feeling numb, which is very House to me.

It doesn't get worse, it doesn't get better You just get old, it lasts forever Can't get happy, can't get sad It's hard to do When I hate everyone but you

It's so sad to think about how House just spends his whole life trying to be as numb as possible because everything hurts all the time, and the only one who is (somewhat) consistent in his life is Wilson.

I fell in love 'Cause no one saw me the way you did And no one's seen me that way since But for a short time that's how I lived

Again, this could be any House relationship (ESPECIALLY Stacy), but also thinking about post-Wilson death House reminiscing is so...argh.

That's all I have for now. I mean, I have more songs on my playlist, but this is all I feel confident enough to pick apart. Link to the full playlist here, though it is Apple Music so sorry if u don't have that lol.

[dekusleftsock]

-

I’m obsessed with the new mitski album… and this song specifically. I mean cmon, it’s the one with the most hype around it for a reason.

I think what makes this album and specifically this song so “them” isn’t even necessarily the romantic subplot they have, but rather the realization that the love they have is truly beautiful, and that it’s something of value. It’s the only thing they truly have for the rest of their lives; the ability to love someone so deeply.

And that’s kind of what this entire album is about right? Love and loss, mitski herself literally saying that this album is about her realization that her greatest accomplishment was no material item or physical action, but rather the ability and the action to love someone.

And to be honest, Ochako’s unrequited love of Izuku and then required love of Himiko shows this. All of her heroics matter, and she will always be more than just another man’s wife (a title she would honestly be stuck with were her and Izuku to get together), but the fact that her feelings were able to change the entire world is astounding.

The title of the album “The Land Is Inhospitable And So Are We” is actually a joke, referencing those welcome signs between states on highways and such. Things like “Welcome to Delaware the first state” or “Welcome to Pennsylvania the keystone state”. And through this reference this album also becomes a commentary on the political hellscape that the US has become.

I just love it. I can’t stop thinking about it.

Oh and also here’s a version with a SH warning bc her wrist is cut

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[halucynator]

hii love, could you write a mattheo riddle x reader fic based on the song someone will love you better by Johnny Orlando where reader and her bf (maybe Draco? Idk you can choose) fall out of love and reader falls for mattheo instead. Draco realises this and breaks up with them so they can get with Mattheo. thanks!

Someone will love you better

Hope this is to your liking xx

Part 2

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader/draco malfoy x fem!reader? (ish)

Summary: draco and reader fall out of love as draco realises the reader fell in love with mattheo.

A/n: The red italic writing are the lyrics xx the green text is extra stuff I put in because it felt smarter to do that than pile it all up at the top. It's kinda long xx idk the word count bc I have no idea how to figure it out bc I'm an idiot help pls 😭 I'm kinda happy with how this turned out :))

Warning: angst angst angst, kissing, unrequited love, shouting (kinda), mention of periods, not proof read, lmk if I missed any

Reader is Slytherin bc let's be honest draco prolly wouldn't date anyone who wasn't whether it was because of his father or just him. Theo and reader are best friends.

You and your friends were in the Slytherin common room. It was pretty much empty apart from some other students that lingered there. Your head was on Draco's lap. Just like everyday. Except the feelings weren't the same anymore. The spark was gone. The butterflies that you used to feel every single time his skin made contact with yours, even if it was an accidental touch, were gone.

You'd known Draco ever since you were in year 3 and you'd fallen in love with him ever since. So of course when Draco asked you out, you said yes.

It was perfect.

It was the greatest romance that sent a lightning strike to your heart.

(The orange text is an alteration I made in the lyrics to suit the text. )

Your mind that used to be on Draco was now occupied with thoughts of a certain brunette boy.

Where did it go, you asked yourself. We would slow dance, in the headlights in the parking lot, you told yourself, reminiscing the good times you had with Draco.

But as Draco held your waist now, all you could feel was guilt. There was no chance of ever falling apart. But you've noticed, that I'm here but I'm so far. Those were the thoughts that clouded your mind as you stared into the blonde boy's eyes.

You hoped he didn't realise. But sooner or later you'd have to tell him.

"Theo I have to tell Draco! I can't bear lying to him anymore." You told your best friend, Theodore, as you burst into his dorm. He was the only one who knew about your crush on Mattheo and also your best friend. He'd figured it out by himself, but in all fairness, you didn't shut up about Mattheo around him.

"Are you crazy?! Just yesterday Draco was going on about how loyal and perfect you were for him! You should've done it sooner! You can't drop that bombshell on him now! You have to wait!" Theo said, calmly. (im sorry I had to)

"But I've been running from the sun but I've got nowhere left to hide. Every night, I close my eyes and wish I was still in love. Trying to fight at war with my mind, it's gonna kill me to give him up. He's eventually gonna find out!" You reasoned.

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

"Hello love." Draco exclaimed as he saw you enter the great hall.

Your heart was heavy. You didn't want to hurt him, but the truth would be better than emotionally cheating on him, and, eventually, physically cheating on him.

Darling this is gonna hurt. No, I won't regret it. 'cause I loved you first, but someone will love you better. You repeated those words inside your head as you looked into his eyes trying to console yourself that you were doing the right thing telling him the truth.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Draco asks you, looking at you with lovesick eyes.

You blushed slightly. Draco was known to be mean to people, so, him giving you the special treatment made it hurt even more to tell him the truth.

You share a "I can't do this" look with Theo. As a response, Theo gives you a "I told you so" look which makes you roll your eyes.

You look at Draco and the following words fill your head:

Last time I hold you, just cause you needed heart to console you, when I can't give you reasons.

Draco goes to hold your hand seeing that you looked nervous. His touch makes you tense up. You hope he doesn't notice. But he does. He noticed the time you rejected his kisses which you used to love. He noticed the time you were in a hurry to leave. He noticed everything despite your efforts in hiding them.

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

You went to your dorm early as the rest of your group stayed in the Slytherin common room. You weren't, however, aware of the conversation that happened after.

"I think there's something wrong with y/n" Draco says, not realising how passive aggressive that statement sound. Everyone one in the common room stared at him. Only then did he realise how wrong that statement sounded.

"I mean like- like she isn't feeling well." Draco corrects.

"Why's that?" Pansy asks.

"Well, she flinches at my touch and refuses my kisses!" Draco responds.

"I think there might just be something wrong with you." Lorenzo states matter-of-factly.

Pansy smacks his arm.

"ow!" Lorenzo exclaims.

"Anyways, it's clear she's not in love with you anymore." Pansy says.

"OR she's just tired or sick. Or maybe she's- she's on her period!" Theo says trying to make up an excuse to save your ass.

"You're not wrong." Pansy replies. "Us girls do tend to get mood swings on periods."

"You should read her mind. You know since you're a legilimens." Lorenzo suggests.

"That's not a bad idea." Draco says.

"NO- I mean, no. That's idea sucks. You're violating her privacy." Theo replies.

"I guess but you gotta do what you gotta do." Pansy says.

Theo couldn't say anything anymore in the fear of them getting suspicious.

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

"Hate that love can be a thing you lose. There's nothing him or I could do. We were fools to fall! And it's nobody's fault, no." You barged into Theo's dorm yet again.

"Good to see you too." Theo said, scared by your entrance and slightly frustrated at the lack of introduction or even permission.

You death stare him annoyed at his priorities.

"Anyways, you should break up with him" Theo says, noticing your death stare and being slightly intimidated.

"Well, yeah! No shit Sherlock! But it's too fucking hard. He's making it too fucking hard!" You exclaim.

"if you're not going to break up with him, you could atleast pretend to be in love with him" Theo says.

"what?" You ask raising an eyebrow.

"he's suspicious. says you refuse his kisses and flinch at his touch."

You stand there silent, not realising how Draco paid extreme attention to detail.

Fuck. This was bad.

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

You woke up the next day and entered the Great Hall. You walked over to your friends. That's when you noticed the looks on everyone's faces.

Theodore gave you a worried look. Disappointment plastered Draco, Blaise and Pansy's face. And Mattheo had a... shocked look on his face?

Draco hit you with the classic "we need to talk."

Was he going to break up with you? You felt sad but if he was then you wouldn't have to feel guilty about breaking up with him. You wondered what the reason could be.

Draco and you walked out of the Great Hall and into the barely filled corridor.

"What's wrong?" You asked. Anticipation hung in the atmosphere.

"Why didn't you tell me." Draco said. It sounded like a statement more than a question.

"what?"

"that you like my cousin, Mattheo."

Your breath caught in your throat. He knew. But how? Your mind wandered to a certain chestnut haired boy. No, he wouldn't. Theodore would never.

"how did you-"

"it doesn't matter."

"yes it does! Who told you?" You asked feeling betrayed, but by no one in particular.

"I found out myself. I- I read your mind."

"What?! Do you know how violating that is?" You asked half-shouting.

"Well, I am so sorry that you aren't satisfied with me! I had to find out why you were acting weird!" Draco says, joining in on the shouting.

Guilt clouded your mind.

"Look, Draco i- I've been running from the sun but I've got nowhere left to hide. Every night I close my eyes and wish I was still in love. Trying to fight at war with my mind, it's gonna kill me to give you up!" You begun. "Darling this is gonna hurt. No, I won't regret it. Because I loved you first. But someone will love you better"

It felt good to tell him the truth, but that feeling was replaced by guilt when you say the look on Draco's face.

"I loved you. I can't control who you love but I really did try my best." Draco said, his voice cracking.

"lt wasn't your fault." You replied. "it was mine. I am sorry. I hope we can be friends."

No response. Ouch, that hurt.

"Does Mattheo know?" You asked Draco.

He nodded.

Your cheeks flushed. Mattheo knew. To say you were embarrassed would be an understatement.

ﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:* *:;;:*+ﾟﾟ+*:;;:*

Thanks for reading! I prolly will make a part 2 x lmk if I should xx hope you enjoyed reading it 💞

Also if anyone can tell me how to establish word count, it will be a huge help! I feel stupid lmao.

[twintravelers]

goodbye my danish sweetheart is a kaveh-centric hkvh song !!!!!!!! listen to me

alhaitham falling for kaveh first, since the academia days. there was always something between them, but it was never addressed before the project destroyed whatever they had. and after alhaitham opening up his home to kaveh, after they start falling back into their old routine, after he notices alhaitham taking care of him every time he gets drunk, it finally dawns on him. it's always been them.

in his room, thinking about what to say. wondering if alhaitham would give him the time of day so they could talk about it all, if every unspoken word could finally see the light of day, everything laid bare between them. wondering if maybe he might’ve already given up on him, it’s been so long. maybe they’re too different now. (continued below cut)

kaveh overthinking that maybe, actually, alhaitham just wants him out of his life, out of his home soon, and that he doesn't deserve the love that he might have had before now because of how far they’ve diverged from each other since they’ve met, with the underlying fear of not just being good enough.

his ideals. his ideals are what keep him alive, but also could be considered his greatest demise. and alhaitham sees it, he knows what it does, but he can't stop kaveh from it. it's something he will forever hold on to, because it is what keeps him from falling apart. the guilt, pain, and memories that threaten to shatter kaveh completely are what fuel him, his ideals always pushing him forward.

and there he is, thinking about alhaitham. he’s never listened to his junior, but now all he wants is for him to tell him what to do w his feelings, the rational part to his emotional self. after so many years, after he finally realized his feelings, is it too late? did he miss his chance?

yet again the overthinking presenting itself again, with guilt and shame of how he is right now, and how he probably doesn’t deserve the love alhaitham might give him, because he's so preoccupied of ruining everything again.

kaveh doesn’t know what this unresolved tension is going to lead to, but god forbid he hurts alhaitham with his feelings, which might not even be reciprocated anymore. but again, it’s been them, right? kaveh & alhaitham. the sun & the moon. together. he couldn’t bear to be without him, even if it’s unrequited. he can only hope alhaitham still has good memories of them together in the past. maybe he can hold on to that. to him. because, to kaveh, there’s no one better than alhaitham.

there we go!! i feel like i'm not great at putting my thoughts into words but i hope that this makes at least a bit of sense <3 i love them

[childofhypno]

just some thoughts from sherlock and co. Mailbag episode

honestly I did this to myself and at 3am no less.

In an mailbag episode on the sherlock and co. patreon, answering a question on their favorite musicals, John answered Les Misèrables. And being the romantic we know our loveable doctor to be, I was perusing the songs from the 2013 movie album and came across On My Own.

Sung by Èpoine about her unrequited love for Marius. And that is sad in its own regard, there's a reason it's one of the musicals most popular songs and Samantha Barks does a great job of that crushing emotional weight of being so wrapped in someone, so ultimately dazzled by them and wanting to be near them. But knowing they will not look at you the same, will not place the same value on the time and proximity you share. And that is not their fault and it is hard to love someone and desire to be close and yet have them be the source of your greatest pain and rejection, even though they may wish you no harm.

It's been hinted at and out right stated (by Sherlock) that John wants to be liked. And given what we've heard about John's last relationship (the one whereby he gained ownership of Archie after the split) and perhaps some insecurities there, insecurities in his own capabilities, comparing himself to others, its understandable to read John as something of an insecure man. Not in a toxic manner but John definitely has a lot of self doubts about himself and his place in the world and what he can offer to others. Despite him so naturally being able to attune to people and their needs and being quite bloody smart and intuitive. All round just a decent person.

And John, as much as anyone, marvels at Sherlock Holmes. This almost mythical figure. John admires Sherlock and maybe envies him on some level. I think not in Sherlock's deduction skills or specific knowledge skillsets but maybe in Sherlock's apparent surety in himself and where he is in life and what he wants from it. Sherlock is plainly himself, even if it means not "fitting in " John often tries to mould himself to what others might like, and hey, as a people pleaser, oh boy do I understand that. Almost becomes like muscle memory.

Sherlock in turn, I think admires John's social prowess. His ability to express the complexity of emotions. Just because someone doesn't emote the typical way doesn't mean they don't feel the emotions. And that can be incredibly frustrating when you want to communicate with others. Sherlock cares about people. He's interested in people. And he can't always express or connect with them in the way he wants. Like a language barrier he mentioned in another mailbag episode. That is why Sherlock and John work. They draw out in each other and supplement for the qualities they lack or yearn to have more of. They're a balancing act. A good one. And I'm not the first to point that out.

All this to say, imagine when that act is separated. The Fall. Grown so comfortable to have the other's support, always by each others side and then, suddenly the other person isn't there. And you have to remember how you functioned without them before. But you can't go back. You're not the same person you were. But if they aren't there to remind you, to encourage you, it's easy to fall back into old habits.

And so the song. On My Own. From John's perspective, watching the man the myth the dazzling legend that is Sherlock Holmes, getting swept up in the adventures, feeling totally out of place but thrilled be along for the ride, participating, maybe growing in confidence all because of coincidental flat share with possibly the most brilliant and bizzare man he's ever met. The world is changing for John Watson. And Sherlock is seemingly at the center of it all. He's found purpose. Friends. A home. Maybe more. But John is as fallible in his assumptions as any of us are. And Sherlock appears to have no interest in such relationships and John, not confident enough to make the first move. So he can daydream. Of what it would be like to be with Sherlock. And what it would be like be without Sherlock.

And then the Fall. And he truly is without Sherlock and his world has dulled and greyed and blurred. The city has lost its glimmer. The flat is quiet. The words are meaningless. And John sits with his what ifs.

Don't think of John hearing this song. Of the heartbreak of knowing that you can ever be with the one you love. And knowing that taste of what brilliant technicolours the world is when you were with them, full of stimulating twinkling lights. And thinking it could never be that way again. Don't imagine John, sat in the flat, in the achingly quiet flat, as a woman sings for her never was love, head in his hands, Archie resting his head on John's knee. Don't think of John cursing himself for not being sure enough to tell Sherlock how he felt, for not being good enough again to save his friend. Don't think of John Watson, once again, on his own.

[niallerspayno]

We’ll Be Alright - Chapter Twelve

Masterlist

That night, the band gathers in the lobby, pulling you into their orbit for an impromptu group bonding session.

The hotel lounge feels cozy, its warm lighting softening the edges of the long day. It’s a space that feels intimate, almost like stepping into someone’s living room rather than the sterile lobby of a hotel. The sectional couch in the corner becomes your meeting spot, with Louis at the helm as usual, beckoning everyone to join him around a table piled high with snacks. The air carries the savory scent of empanadas, the tang of ceviche, and the smoky sweetness of grilled skewers that Louis is already raving about.

“Everyone, listen,” Louis announces dramatically, holding up a skewer as if it’s a royal scepter. His grin is pure mischief, his blue eyes alight. “This—this right here—is the greatest thing I’ve ever eaten. Forget every other meal in my life. They don’t exist anymore.”

From the other end of the couch, Zayn snorts, lounging like he has all the time in the world. “You’re going to regret saying that when you can’t move tomorrow,” he says, his voice deadpan but laced with amusement.

The group erupts into laughter, and Louis clutches his chest like Zayn’s words have wounded him. “Don’t listen to him,” Louis cries, turning to you for dramatic effect. “He knows nothing about food, and his palate is as dull as dishwater.”

You laugh, sinking into the plush cushions beside Liam. The cool condensation of your lemonade presses against your palms, grounding you in the moment. Liam leans back casually, his arm draped across the back of the couch just close enough to brush your shoulder if you shift even slightly. Every so often, he nudges you gently—small, almost imperceptible touches that feel like his way of saying, You okay? I’m here.

To your other side, Harry leans forward, his curls catching the light as he discusses tomorrow’s setlist with Liam. His voice is low and easy, carrying a calm energy that contrasts with Louis’s theatrical antics. It’s grounding, a small reprieve from the storm inside you.

Across the table, Niall sits with one leg propped up, balancing a plate on his knee. His fingers toy with a piece of grilled chicken, but his focus drifts. More than once, you catch him looking at you. His blue eyes are softer tonight, but there’s a guarded edge to them, like he’s working hard to keep his emotions just beneath the surface. Each time your gazes meet, your chest tightens with a confusing mix of warmth and ache.

“Alright!” Louis claps his hands together, startling you out of your thoughts. “Truth or dare, people. It’s happening. Let’s make this a night to remember.”

“No,” Zayn says immediately, not even glancing up from his phone.

“Yes,” Louis counters with a grin that can only mean trouble. His gaze sweeps the group, landing on Harry first. “You’re up. Truth or dare?”

Harry groans, but the corners of his mouth lift into a reluctant smile. “Dare.”

“I dare you,” Louis declares, his tone grand, “to sing one of our songs like it’s the saddest, most tragic love ballad ever written.”

Harry sits up straighter, already laughing. “Easy,” he says, smoothing his expression into something comically serious.

What follows is a performance that would make any Shakespearean actor proud. Harry belts out Midnight Memories with an intensity that makes it sound like his heart is breaking with every word. He clutches an imaginary microphone, closes his eyes, and even sways dramatically, as though caught in the throes of unrequited love.

Liam collapses beside you, laughing so hard his shoulders shake, and the sight pulls a genuine laugh from you—a laugh that feels like it’s been buried beneath the weight of the day. Tears streak down your face as you try to catch your breath.

The game snowballs from there, each dare more ridiculous than the last. Louis ends up with Liam’s scarf tied around his head like a crown, striking regal poses and demanding to be addressed as “King Louis.” Even Zayn, who spends most of the night pretending to be annoyed, can’t keep the grin off his face.

You lose track of time in the best way. The warmth of the group, the sound of their laughter, and the ease of just being here start to fill the hollow spaces inside you. For a little while, you’re not caught between two impossible choices or the weight of your emotions. You’re just here, part of something bigger.

As the night winds down, your cheeks ache from laughing, your chest feels lighter, and you can’t help but think that moments like this—simple, messy, and filled with laughter—are the ones you’ll carry with you the longest.

...

That night, the room feels like it’s closing in on you. The air, heavy and unmoving, presses against your chest. You lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling, but the silence is suffocating. Your thoughts race relentlessly, dragging you back to every moment of the day—Liam’s quiet understanding, Niall’s unflinching honesty, the laughter in the lounge that had momentarily eased the tension in your chest.

And then there’s the way your heart seems to break and bloom at the same time whenever you’re near either of them.

You toss and turn, the sheets tangling around your legs as frustration builds. You can’t do this—not tonight.

Sliding out of bed, you pull on your hoodie, its familiar weight a small comfort, and step into the dimly lit hallway. The hotel is eerily quiet, the kind of stillness that amplifies every creak of the floor, every soft rustle of fabric. You wander without a destination until the pull of fresh air becomes undeniable, and your feet lead you to the stairs.

The rooftop terrace greets you with a cool breeze that brushes against your skin, carrying the faint scent of rain on concrete and the distant hum of the city below. The view stretches wide, a sea of twinkling lights scattered like constellations on the ground, but it’s not the skyline that makes you pause.

It’s the music.

A soft, melodic strum drifts through the air, delicate and raw, wrapping around you like an embrace. You follow the sound and find Niall seated near the edge of the terrace, his guitar resting against his lap, the strings whispering under his fingers.

The moonlight spills over him, catching the golden strands of his hair and painting him in a silvery glow. He looks serene, his head tilted slightly as he loses himself in the notes. For a moment, you hesitate, reluctant to break the spell of his solitude.

But then his eyes lift, meeting yours, and a small, tired smile curves his lips. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, stepping closer. “No. You?”

He shrugs, his fingers never stopping their soft plucking. “Not much on my mind these days,” he teases lightly, though the weight in his tone betrays him.

You sit beside him, the bench cool against your legs, and he shifts slightly to make room. “I don’t believe you,” you say softly.

A quiet chuckle escapes him, his gaze dropping back to his guitar. “Didn’t think you would.”

The song he’s playing is slow, unpolished, each note lingering in the cool night air. You watch his hands, mesmerized by the way his fingers move across the strings with an ease that speaks of muscle memory, of countless hours spent chasing melodies.

“What is it?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“Something new,” he admits, almost shy. “Been working on it. Not sure if it’s any good.”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, the sincerity in your voice surprising even yourself.

He glances at you, his blue eyes steady and searching. “About earlier…” His voice is softer now, tentative. “I didn’t mean to make things harder for you. I just—” He pauses, the words catching in his throat. “I needed you to know where I stand.”

The raw vulnerability in his tone pulls at something deep within you. You swallow hard, the weight of his confession settling in your chest. “You didn’t make it harder, Niall. If anything, you made it clearer.”

His gaze holds yours, the silence between you charged with unspoken emotions. The city hums faintly in the distance, but up here, it feels like another world—one where it’s just the two of you.

“I meant what I said,” he continues, his voice steady despite the ache in his eyes. “I’ll wait for you to figure it out. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, knowing I’m not the only one you’re thinking about.”

His honesty slices through you, raw and unfiltered. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice breaking under the weight of your own guilt.

“I know you are,” he replies softly. “And I know it’s not easy for you either.”

He sets the guitar down carefully, the wood barely making a sound against the bench, and his hand brushes against yours. It’s a fleeting touch, tentative, but it sends a spark through you that lingers. You don’t pull away.

“You make me crazy, you know that?” he says, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “In the best and worst ways.”

Your pulse quickens, your breath catching. “Niall…”

He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to stop him. But you can’t. You don’t want to.

When his lips meet yours, it’s soft—tentative at first, as though he’s testing the waters. But then it deepens, a quiet fervor building between you. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against your skin, and you feel yourself melting into him.

The kiss is unlike anything else—gentle but full of unspoken emotions, a thousand words he can’t bring himself to say. You lose yourself in the warmth of it, in the way he feels, the way he tastes of mint and something faintly sweet. For a moment, everything else fades—the confusion, the guilt, the world itself. It’s just you and him, suspended in this fragile, perfect moment.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your lips. “You don’t have to say anything,” he whispers, his voice trembling slightly. “Just… tell me you felt that too.”

Your voice is barely audible as you nod. “I did. I do.”

Relief washes over his features, softening the lines of tension in his brow. “That’s enough for now.”

You sit there for a while longer, the silence between you filled with unspoken understanding. When he finally stands, he holds out a hand to help you up, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Come on,” he says gently, his voice wrapping around you like a blanket. “You’ll need your rest for tomorrow.”

As you walk back through the quiet hotel, his hand brushes against yours, and it’s such a small gesture—so simple, yet it feels monumental.

When you finally slip back into bed, your heart is racing, your lips still tingling with the memory of his kiss. Sleep feels impossible, but this time, it’s not the weight of confusion that keeps you awake—it’s the overwhelming clarity of how much he’s come to mean to you.

Next chapter

[mossyivy]

Hatred | '24 Alphabet Challenge

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Prom night is supposed to be the greatest night of your teenage life... Right?

Words: 1.9k

Content Warning: Stancy mention, Jancy mention, past feelings mention, childhood friends, and unrequited love (Steve)

Prom night, supposedly one of the greatest nights of teenagers' lives. That's a sentiment Steve definitely wouldn't agree with, hanging out outside his own senior prom. He didn't even know why he bothered coming, knowing full well he'd see them together. Hand in hand, arm in arm, dancing to every cheesy slow song the DJ put on. As much as Steve tried to be supportive or ignore it...

He just wasn't over his ex-girlfriend yet.

But that didn't stop him from trying to be the bigger man in the situation. That's what Steve grew into being, the bigger person. No more being a total asshole for the sake of his own feelings. That's something Junior year Steve would do.

"Well, don't you just look so lively tonight." His trance breaks as he's approached by you, coming from the double doors of the Gym hallway not too far away.

"I'm not in the mood tonight."

Steve sounded both fed up and disgusted with your antics already. Even if this was just the first thing you said anything to him all day.

You lean against the cold brick gym wall. Feeling the rough bumps of the hard surface on your back and through your dress.

"Rough night, champ?" Steve sighs, rubbing his eyes, raw from a few minutes of being emotional.

"You don't know the half of it." Glancing over, he sees you for the first time. Admiring the floor length red dress, you always looked good in red. You looked good in everything, at least in his mind.

"Look at you, all dressed up and presentable for once." You smirk at his joke, making him chuckle and smile.

"I always look presentable thank you prick." Smirking to yourself before looking back at him.

"You look good in a tuxedo... Y'know, for you."

"Thanks for the backhanded compliment. Anything good from you is a rarity." You laugh, making him smile even wider. His eyes shift around the parking lot, watching cars pull in, and other kids come to join the party going on inside.

"What're you even doing out here by yourself? I thought you'd be in there with like 9 different girls trying to dance with you at once." He scoffs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You know, too many options beating down my door. Couldn't disappoint them all."

"Came stag too, huh?" He just nods in response, not saying anything as you both look up into the inky night sky. The only sound to fill the cold April night air was the crickets chirping and distant chatting of other students.

"Are you holding up okay? I saw them dancing inside and... I know the breakup was hard for you, so I just thought I'd check up on you..."

Steve let out a rough sigh, feeling like a complete idiot pining for his ex-girlfriend still. Being broken up for almost 5 months now. He couldn't let her go in his head, they were each other's first loves. At least she was to him.

All of that came crashing to a halt after everything back in November.

"If I'm being honest, no I'm not holding up okay."

"I know I'm not a therapist or anything..." You shrug, glancing back at him as you nervously chew on your thumbnail.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really. I've been talking to Dustin for months about it and no matter how much I try I can't get past it. Like Nancy's cast some kind of spell to stick with me or something." He sighs, looking at the asphalt as he swallows harshly.

"Now we can hardly make eye contact for more than 3 seconds before she turns away... God, she must hate me."

"Steve, she doesn't hate you. She's probably just feeling awkward about everything and trying to respect her new relationship by not hanging around her ex-boyfriend. They're just trying to find their footing as a couple." You reassure him, leaning over to give him a squeeze on his shoulder. Thinking about what he said, you shake your head, grinning at the thought of Dustin.

"And really Steve? Dustin. He's like 14 and barely knows how to handle having a crush yet. He's never even had a girlfriend yet. I know he's smart for his age, but c'mon."

"I know! He's just a great listener. He knows a lot for his age, it's actually kinda scary." You roll your eyes looking at the ground, starting to laugh to yourself.

"What?" His full attention is on you now, a small smile pulling at his lips as he watches you start to laugh harder.

"Nothing I just..." You cover your mouth, snickering again.

"I just never pictured myself giving you of all people a pep talk... You're you for crying out loud. Steven "The Hair" Harrington." You grin, bumping his arm with your elbow.

"King Steve... You're literally the most popular guy in the entire school, and I'm... Me." He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's the fun thing. We're so different, so we can see our point of view while still seeing each other's... Plus, it's nice not having someone around trying to kiss my ass constantly."

"Yeah, I'll just kick your ass instead." You smirk, pressing off the wall, your heels click as you step in front of him.

"Look, I know it hurts now, but it'll pass eventually... And if I can be honest with you... You could do so much better than Nancy frickin' Wheeler."

Steve could feel his eyebrows shooting up in amusement as you got in front of him. For some odd reason, just standing there in your presence felt somewhat calming suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Who'd you have in mind then?"

"I don't know," you think for a second and shrug, "Farrah Fawcett? I think she'd think you were cute. Celebrity or not?"

"Farrah Fawcett? You think Farrah Fawcett, one of the most famous women alive, would want me?"

"Yeah! You're a hot guy, why wouldn't she?!" It's his turn to laugh now, shaking his head as he bites his lip.

"Where the hell would I even meet her?"

"I don't know! I thought we were talking hypothetically." Steve nodded, his face turning serious again.

"It's just... It's hard looking past Nancy, y'know. She was the first girl I ever loved."

"I'm aware, Steve. It's just not always the best thing to dwell on. I'm talking from experience." You bite the inside of your cheek and sigh. Nervous to be this honest, but if it helps get the point across, then so be it.

"Can I be honest with you about something?"

Steve looks at you, seeing how nervous you look to talk. His lips part slightly as he nods.

"Of course."

"I used to have a massive crush on Jonathan ages ago and when he started showing an interest in Nancy it killed me... But he's my friend, so I encouraged him. It killed me but I got over it."

You turn your head, looking up at the sky again, taking in the shining stars above the two of you. Feeling embarrassed about laying everything out there for someone you've barely gotten to know again.

"Took a while but time heals most wounds. So, just know I'm here for you because I know what it feels like... Kind of."

Steve felt your pain as you talked about how you couldn't be with Jonathan, and how that's basically how he felt about Nancy in all honesty.

Silence fell over the two of you as you both looked out to the sky, admiring the stars again. Steve looks over at you, feeling somewhat peaceful. Yet still wanting to ask so many questions.

"How'd you do it? Stay strong like that. I can barely be in a room with her right now."

"I talked to my family. That helped a lot... But I know you aren't the closest to your parents, so that's why I asked if you wanted to talk about it with me." You smile softly, lips turning up as you half shrugged at his question.

"I know we weren't always on the best of terms, but you're my friend and... I care about you."

"We're friends again?" His eyes seemed to light up almost, just like he was a little kid again. Over the past year he's felt like you two were bonding. But never wanted to ask out of fear.

Tension fills the air between you two. It's been this way since you two started becoming friends again. Going through hell together alongside the couple, Steve was trying to avoid like the plague.

"Well you know, when you nearly die fighting inner dimensional monsters together you tend to start caring about their well-being again... So, in a way, I guess we have to thank them for something at least."

Steve smirks before shaking his head.

"Part of me likes to think we'd be friends again someday."

"Who knows." You add, silence falling between you again. It's not long before Steve shifts, pushing himself off the wall and looking at you.

"So let’s say, hypothetically, that I was stuck at this stupid prom without a date and I had no one else to ask but you...”

"Mmm. Mmhm, hypothetically." You nod along, fighting back the urge to smirk.

"Go on."

Steve looked away for a second, collecting his thoughts. He takes a deep breath, turning back to you.

"And, hypothetically, I might need to spend our senior prom dancing, like my life depends on it, because it's possibly the last fun night before the rest of our lives."

"I'm starting to think you don't know what the word hypothetically means."

"Shush," he cuts you off, making you giggle before he continues, "now, hypothetically, would you be interested in dancing with me?"

You nod, looking like you were really thinking about it. As if you didn't know your answer already.

"Well, hypothetically," you play along, making sure to hold eye contact, "I might be inclined to say yes... If it wasn't a hypothetical, of course."

You rub your hand over your mouth, smirking behind it. He holds eye contact, faking a scoff as he stares.

"You're gonna make me ask?" You nod, tongue going to his cheek as he also nods.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"I wouldn't be saying that to a girl you're about to ask to prom Steve." He chuckles, nodding. You got him there.

His expression shifts to a goofy grin as he sighs with a slight relief.

"You think you can survive the night without making fun of me?" He smirks, holding his hand out for you to grab, you smile back at him taking it gently. Giving him a reassuring squeeze.

"I don't know about the whole night, but I can sure try my best." Rolling his eyes, he pulls you into his side, lacing his arm around your waist.

You look up at him, your gaze meeting again. Taking in his deep brown eyes and soft smile brings... Old feelings from years ago bubble back up.

Your mouth opens to say something, anything at all. But the words won't come out as your heartbeat picks up speed.

That old crush you had on your old friend never really went away over all these years.

Or at least that's what you think at the moment.

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 14

Sorry about Sunday's empty post ☹️ I must've accidentally put a draft template in my queue because I am basically tired and rubbish and life isn’t the greatest right now. Anyhow.... Whoops and really sorry again!

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Eddie POV

When neither Steve nor Robin show up after ten minutes, Eddie begins to freak out. 

He, Hopper and El are still waiting for the car, out of sight among some ferns. Hopper’s getting antsy, muttering beneath his breath, while Eddie’s wriggling like he’s got ants in his pants. Which he genuinely might have, though that’s not what’s bugging him:

“Uuuuh, shall I see what’s taking them so long?”

“You do that,” says Hopper. “What’s going on with that guy? He could barely stand! How the hell could he…”

Eddie tunes out, retracing their journey into the trees, calling Robin’s name then Steve’s. Maybe Steve passed out, and Robin got lost searching? Somehow, he doesn’t buy it. A heaviness slows his feet, and his guts twist sourly. 

They wouldn’t just ditch him. Surely? Surely!?! 

Fifteen minutes later, he winds up where he started: “They’re not back?” 

“What do you reckon?” Hopper’s breathing hard and red in the face. Evidently, he’s been running in circles like Eddie has.

“This is for you.” El nudges Eddie and presses a scrap of paper into his hand. “I think Steve left it.”

“What? Where?” Eddie’s stomach clamps tight again. 

Her eyes stretch very wide. “Fell out of your pack.”

Turning the note over in his hands, his fingers stiffen, as if shrinking from the task, bracing for… something. In the event, he gets a literal slap around the face.

“You make me sick,” Steve wrote.

Eddie’s skin burns with the blow. Wow! This is why I never have and never freakin’ will write love songs.

“What does he say?” demands Hopper.

Eddie scans the note one more time, scrunches it in his fist. “I’d hazard a guess he’s gone back to Hawkins.”

“Goddammit! Robin’s gone with him?”

“I think that’s a safe bet.” A wobble in the back of Eddie’s throat finds its way into his voice. Because, boy, is he still processing.

You make me sick. 

What does that even mean? To be fair, Eddie did make Steve sick. More than once. But why the heck write… that. Would suck less to be dumped without a word. 

Thanks for the overkill, man.

“Don’t you even think about scooting off,” growls Hopper. “Your uncle would never forgive me.” 

Oh yeah. Wayne. The only person who ever actually cared about him.

Eddie plonks his butt down on the ground and waits for the car.

…

Steve POV

“C’mon, giddy up,” says Steve. He and Robin make their way along the muddy bank of the stream towards home.

“Is this some kind of race?” she asks. “While I’d forgotten your former life as a douchebag jock, you’re doing a stunning job of reminding me, and… Uuuuugh!” 

“Jesus Christ, what’s wrong this time?” He spirals about, plants his hands on his hips—he’d ditched the sling a while ago. 

She scrubs madly at her lips. “I swallowed a bug! Ugh, ugh, ugh, mega-gross. Eeeeurgh!”

“Maybe if you weren’t complaining, like, constantly, there’d be less opportunities for bugs to get in.” 

“You shut up, shit-bird! I could die of malaria.” She spits into the stream. “Ew! EEEEEEEW!” 

“Ssssh! Hop said the military will be crawling everywhere soon, or—”

“Eddie might hear?” His heart heaves a loaded thud. She looks back sharply, purses her lips. “You know, he could be lost in the wilderness, all alone. Being hunted by evil army thugs. Or bears! Did you think of that when you sauntered off?”

“I did, yeah. I left him a message saying not to follow.” He shades his face from the afternoon sunlight, which shafts between the trees. Also, he can’t look her straight on and say this: “It was kinda brutal, I guess. It was for his own good, right?”

“Oh. Riiiight.”

“You done spewing insects?” he snaps.

“Still heavily grossed-out here. Gimme a minute, ’kay?” She plonks herself on a rock, crumpling forward.

He mops his brow, strips his sweater, and takes the opportunity to check in on his bat bites. They’re still sore, the bandages a bit bloody. Nothing too fresh, though. For the billionth time, his thoughts fly back to Eddie. He hopes Eddie doesn’t get hurt and need healing while they’re apart, and… Holy shit, will he ever see him again? He ties his sweater around his hips, trying to make fumbling hands look casual.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Other than the fact I’m modelling a ‘shoot-me-now-why don’t-you?’ Hellfire Club t-shirt,”—and that I want to punch myself in the face about that moronic note—“I’m good, Robin.”

“You know what? I don’t doubt it.” She brushes her flyaway hair from suspicious eyes. “You’ve gone from death’s door to super-human speed in, oh, I don’t know—feels to me that we’ve been marching for a week. I think it’s been barely an hour.”

“Yeah? We got a long way to go then.” He starts off along the stream’s edge, forcibly slowing his pace. He senses her puffing, panting, then following on his heels.

“Look, Steve, this water goddess who’s pulling you back, whispering in your ear—”

“I can’t actually tell if they’re male or female. Does that matter?”

“Not in the slightest. So, your water… deity. Have they, by any chance, enlightened you as to some kind of divine plan? Or told you exactly where you’re heading?” 

“I got an idea where I’m going, yeah.” To the second place he died, swept away on that blood-red tide—even now, he sees it in his head, like a few frames of a horror VHS stuck on eternal repeat. “Where’s the best place for army generals with dodgy agendas to hang out in Hawkins? There’s never been an army base, apart from—”

“You’re kidding me?” She grabs his elbow, jerking him back. “The Soviet tunnels?” He nods, and her obvious dread has her dropping him like a stone. “No way! I don’t think I can go anywhere near without a major panic attack."

“I’m not gonna march straight in.” He’s already wandering on. Trouble is, now he’s said the idea out loud, it’s become real and terrible. And he’s gotta pretend like his blood’s not congealing to ice. “I don’t know how I’m gonna get in anyhow. I mean, the Starcourt lift is buried under a ton of rubble. I think Hop might’ve know other ways—”

“Oooh, I got a great idea. Let’s go back and ask him.”

“Yeah, real subtle.”

“Steve!” She seizes him again, twisting him around with a furious force. “I know you want to help El, but what can you ACTUALLY DO?” He shrugs before he can stop himself. “Rain? Lightning? How does that benefit us—especially in underground tunnels? Plus you’ve had literally zero time for practice. If we don’t slow down and come up with a decent plan, this is tantamount to suicide.”

“We? Seriously, Robin, I…” His teeth clamp his lower lip. Any moment now, he’ll tell her how terrified he is, how he really, really doesn’t want to get tortured again, let alone die; how the idea of anything bad happening to her is as frightening as any of it. “I don’t think I have much choice.”

“Steve,” she says, gentler now, though her grip gouges into his flesh. “It’s screamingly obvious you’re not thinking straight. You’ve been ill for days and now you’re in a funk, beating yourself up over Eddie.”

He yanks himself free, glares. “That doesn’t make any dif—"

“Bullshit! Trust me, however ‘mean boy’ your literary masterpiece got, Eddie won’t want you to do anything this dumb. Oh, and your resident gender-fluid angel saved your life. They’re not gonna want you to sacrifice it pointlessly.”

He opens his mouth to argue, then shuts it again. He laughs—not a particularly happy laugh, but not totally miserable either. “You win,” he says, kinda sagging with relief. “You got a plan, smarty-pants?”

She laughs with him, equally edgy. “I say we go to Lover’s Lake, wait till it’s dark. If that’s too dangerous, we find some hidden pool where you can practise whatever badass moves you think you got. Hopefully without the puking. It’ll be a bit like Band Camp. But for Magic. Magic Camp. Okay?”

“You really aren’t gonna be happy until I’m a bigger nerd that any of… Shit!” 

He’s been considering hugging her. Instead, he seizes her sleeve, dragging her down into a deep, wet gully. They land with a splash, crouching low, close. She doesn’t complain, because she’s heard what he has.

The distant sound of barking dogs. Likely, army search dogs.

“Dog barks travel for miles, huh?” he whispers.

“Possibly.” She sucks in a scared breath. “One thing for sure—those sniffy wet snouts can pick up a human scent from the next county.”

“We’re in a stream, Robin. They can’t pick up our scent here, right?”

She crinkles her nose, dubious. “Dogs’ sense of smell is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah? Let’s hope this bunch caught colds or something.” 

He’s now the one clutching her way too tight, and he half-wishes he’d ditched her with a bitchy note too. Though, not quite. She smart; he needs her, and she’s really has gotten him thinking clearer: 

“We head for Lover’s Lake. C’mon.”

…

Eddie POV

When the sound of the car engine finally reaches his hearing, Eddie feels almost nothing.

“Don’t move.” Hopper pitches Eddie a forbidding look and grabs El, keeping them low behind the ferns. 

An owl hoots. Despite the hollowness in his chest, Eddie silently cracks up. Seriously? Top secret government goons can’t think of a better signal than me and Robin? 

Hopper’s grip slides to the firearm at his side. He rises slowly. “Over here.”

Peeping between the foliage, Eddie can make out a limo-style saloon with blacked-out windows. A severe-faced woman in lethal stilettos climbs out. “Chief Hopper, I presume? I apologise for the delay. O’Sullivan’s got men everywhere. We must leave right away.”

Hopper, nevertheless, remains stood well off the road with Eleven, not rushing for the car. And Eddie? 

You make me sick.

Steve’s made it simple for him. He should cut his losses and take this chance of escape. Wayne would want him to. Apart from… Eddie literally can’t. What was it that Steve said? Oh yeah. That he was being stretched in the wrong direction. Or something along those lines.

Yeah, I’m feelin’ it, Stevie. 

Nothing supernatural, nothing hinky. You kill me that bad, Babe—even after you turned meanie-King-Steve and dumped me. Oh, and went back to goddamn Mordor without me! 

Gonna trust you had your reasons, and I’m coming anyway.

He turns on his dirt-clotted heels and flees as fast as he can.

Part 15

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 15

[imhereonthekitchenfloor]

Rating Taylor Swift songs based on how they would be perceived by medieval peasants*: Fearless

*context: I'm imagining showing medieval peasants how awesome the future is by playing them the greatest music of our day and age (Taylor obviously). I am also trying to have them not go insane nor have me be accused of witchcraft.

Debut rating

👑🤺🛡⚔️👑🤺🛡⚔️👑

Fearless: pavement, parking lot, car?? After the confusing first verse this song becomes a really sweet tale about riding in a wagon or cart and ruining your nice dress for the oen you love. Considering most women only own one nice dress and one day dress, this is a beautiful sentiment🥹 8/10

Fifteen: the setting of this song is very confusing. It seems (?) Like this may be about the upper class going to school. A senior boy means a lord. A freshmen is a novice. Fifteen is a good age for marriage, but how is this not arranged? 3/10

Love Story: this is so romantic 😍 this is the most beautiful love story ever heard!! They were going to run away because they didn't have parental consent. Regardless of being peasants, they were each other's prince and princess. 10/10!!!

Hey Stephen: hasn't every medieval girl fallen in love with that boy that every other girl is offering their dowry to? Very relatable but nothing too special. 7/10

White Horse: fun fact! White horses have always been a fairytale symbol throughout ancient history so this symbol would translate well to medieval times. The idea of not being a princess or someone chasing after your hand with promise of a horse are also relatable medieval imagery. 8/10 due to some confusing and modern dialect.

You Belong With Me: 😳 what is happening? There's something here about unrequited love but the details are all lost. 2/10

Breathe: medieval friendships were usually a contractual agreement and the few positive and real friendships were reserved for men as masculinity was seen as a holy state and and only masculine beings could have real friends. This song is likely about 2 men having a falling out. Not super relatable but it mostly makes sense. 4/10

Tell Me Why: is this about a physical fight? Are knights facing off? Is this about lovers?? I'm a little lost on context. 5/10 just because everything but bullets and shots makes sense

You're Not Sorry: what happened here 😳 someone MESSED UP. Who knows what a phone is but this song hit deep. 9/10

The Way I Loved You: passion vs sensibility. A secret lover vs someone who is committed. Marriage is very rarely romantic, so this song feels very relatable. 8/10 because the acting insane is a bit questionable. Why are you risking being accused of witchcraft?

Forever & Always: this sounds like a devastating divorce. Perhaps there was an agreement with another women? That is one of several grounds for divorce and it would track with the anger in this song. Unfortunate. 3/10

The Best Day: pumpkins? Tractor? Car? Video? There's too many anachronisms to listen with ease but some lyrics still can hit. 5/10

Change: Are the serfs revolting??? Good for them! This song is so hopeful! 10/10 even though it's unrealistic.

Jump Then Fall: "jump then fall into me" in itself is a weird phrase but cute enough song about blossoming love. 6/10

Untouchable: a song of yearning AND the singer dreams of being literate. Relatable dreams. 7/10.

Come In With The Rain: (tbh, my twilight analysis of this song made this one really difficult) this is likely about another serf living on the masters property and it sounds scandalous. Clandestine affairs are not aligned with the medieval Christian values. 3/10

Superstar: Is this about a traveling performer or nobility visiting the town? Another song about being into the guy every girl will offer her dowry to, this time with more anachronisms. 4/10

The Other Side of the Door: Nothing is more exciting than passion in romance! It's so rare in the world of arranged marriage. I can't help but wonder if these two are in different social classes and thus the secrecy of throwing pebbles🤭 juicy! 6/10 for all the talks about phones and photographs

Today was a Fairytale: fairy tail? 👀 fairy as in the french word for fae as in A MAGICAL BEING??? "Time slowed down whenever you're around" ‼️ the ability to control the flow of time? "Can you feel this magic in the air. It must have been the way you kissed me" 🔪 THAT'S IT. LET'S GET EM BOYS. 0/10 (you have been burned at the stake for witchcraft)

You All Over Me: Did you say God? Medieval songs LOVE talking about God!! This song seems to be asking for penance. Some of the song is a little confusing but good job being devout! 9/10

Mr. Perfectly Fine: mister as in master, right? Is this song about a master (craftsman) leaving his betrothed? The grammar here is pretty confusing so 2/10

We Were Happy: HE WAS OFFERING LAND AND YOU HAD TO LEAVE HIM? You didn't have choices? Who had a larger dowry and best you to him? 😭 9/10

That's When: oh medieval songs love repetitive choruses and the words "that's when" really delivered! 9/10 because this would raise 0 red flags but also barely makes sense in modern English let alone medieval

Don't You: this album is full of unrequited love. I can imagine walking into the market place and seeing the peasant from two properties over with the woman he ended up choosing. Then he DARES to ask how you are? I don't like it. This is too much. 3/10

Bye Bye Baby: this is DEFINITELY a divorce song. I mean... a traditional couple meets at their wedding and these two used to share a bed so.... The sadness of the singer leads me to question the cause of divorce. Did he commit a crime? Were they spiritually related? Did he have relations with another woman? I have more questions than answers. 2/10

[polutrope]

ok I slandered Daeron in the tags to that best singers poll and I FEEL BAD so go on convince me that I should like him ;)

(mainly not a fan of his behaviour to Luthien - I love your daemags fics though <3)

Heh, saying you don't like a character is hardly slander! But I will take any opportunity to defend the B-Side of First Age Disappearing and Despairing Minstrels.

First, some reasons Daeron is cool:

He's the greatest minstrel of the Elf clan (the Teleri) specifically known for singing. He's one of the only instances of an Elf who hasn't seen the light of Aman being the best at anything.

Silm says that "Under ... the teaching of Melian [the Sindar] became the fairest and the most wise and skillful of all the Elves of Middle-earth," and Daeron is singled-out as one of the greatest among the greatest -- and not only for his music! He is also a loremaster and invented the Cirth. Everyone compares him to Maglor but I actually think there's a bit of a Sindarin Feanor vibe to Daeron. In later ages, I like to think many great Sindarin creations would get attributed to Daeron whether they're his or not (there are other versions of the history of Cirth where Tolkien seems to be getting at this), like the Noldor would attribute their great inventions to Feanor.

Daeron's name, in later etymologies, is actually related to the word 'great'.

His name, in earlier etymologies, means 'shadow of trees' which is so mysterious and poetic.

Daeron's teacher and the Queen he sang for, was there for the Ainulindale itself (thanks @an-eldritch-peredhel for the point!). Melian is also said to have been most skilled of all the Ainur in "songs of enchantment" and the Valar would stop their work to hear her singing at the Mingling. That's who taught Daeron!

The Sindar were a largely an oral culture, but Daeron -- during the peaceful years of Thingol and Melian's rule in Beleriand -- invented an alphabet. Even in times of bliss, he cared about the preservation of memory and knowledge. I love that for him. This gorgeous quote ends the paragraph about his invention of the Cirth:

But of bliss and glad life there is little to be said, before it ends; as works fair and wonderful, while still they endure for eyes to see, are their own record, and only when they are in peril or broken for ever do they pass into song.

Like Maglor, he has the same tragic arc of messing up, repenting, and self-exiling. Unfortunately, he gets such cursory treatment in the published Silm that this doesn't really come through (in particular the repentance part).

I could say more, but now we've come to repentance, let's address the real elephant in the room: betraying Luthien. This is going under a cut.

I tend to see Daeron getting dismissed (or loathed) based on some variation of "he was a jealous unrequited stalker who betrays Luthien". And there's some truth to that (definitely the betrayal part), but I think a lot of assumptions are made about him based on certain unrequited lover tropes (Maeglin), or perhaps negative real life experiences, that I don't think really apply to Daeron.

Here's why.

He was Luthien's close friend.

Let's start with what we can squeeze out about their relationship from the Silm:

Then Luthien, perceiving that no help would come from any other on earth, resolved to fly from Doriath and come herself to [Beren]; but she sought the aid of Daeron, and he betrayed her purpose to the King.

[Daeron] it was that made music for the dance and song of Luthien, before Beren came to Doriath; and he had loved her, and set all his thought of her in his music.

Ignoring for a second that he betrayed her (that's coming up), Daeron spent a lot of time with Luthien (making music for her) and he was the person she trusted enough to ask for help in going after Beren. They may not have loved each other in the same way, but there was reciprocal affection there.

(In the Tale of Tinuviel he's her brother, so at its origins the relationship is so close that they are siblings.)

The Lay of Leithian makes their friendship much more apparent, as the bits below will show.

2. His betrayals of Luthien are complex.

In the Silm, Daeron twice betrays Luthien.

First, he tells Thingol she's been hanging out with Beren:

But Daeron the minstrel also loved Luthien, and he espied her meetings with Beren, and betrayed them to Thingol.

Then, he tells Thingol that she's planning to go after him (quoted above).

The first one, I admit, comes off kinda jealous and petty. But think about his situation. His best friend (who he may be in love with - but note that in love is never the phrasing) has just started secretly hanging out with this mortal who stumbled out of the bushes. This is not safe! This is extremely unexpected and stressful! He is upset!

He is also sworn to serve his king. He kind of has to tell Thingol once he knows this about his daughter. Yes, perhaps he had no business stalking around to see what she was up to, but he was worried. Probably would have been better to just talk to her (we don't know that he didn't, actually), but he's certainly not the only male character in Luthien's story who doesn't ask her what she thinks before taking action (this includes Beren).

As for the second betrayal, again he's sworn to serve his king and she puts him in an awkward position when she reveals her plans to go after Beren. But more importantly, he's worried for her safety! From his perspective, she's lost her mind. And how was he to know Thingol's reaction would be to lock her in a treehouse?

The way this all plays out in Lay of Leithian makes all these implied complexities more apparent:

Luthien starts having secret forest meetups with Beren and Daeron sees them together. He gets very upset and lays a curse of silence on Doriath (sidenote: kinda awesome that he has this power??).

Thingol summons Daeron to ask him what is going on with the silence. Daeron replies in riddling terms, and Thingol asks him to clarify.

But Dairon looked on Luthien and would he had not spoken then, and no more would he speak that day, though Thingol's face with wrath was grey.

So even midway through his "betrayal" (questioning by Thingol), Daeron seems to repent. It's Luthien herself who steps up and reveals what's happening.

Thingol is mad, he sends everyone off except Daeron, whom he asks to watch Luthien, which he "heavyhearted did" (Daeron is really not a position to say no here).

The watching proves unnecessary because Luthien brings Beren to Menegroth herself. Beren makes his speech about wanting to marry her.

Here Daeron behaves poorly. He calls for Beren's death, which is mean (but it is also a pretty badass moment and underlies my slightly-unstable Daeron headcanons) -- but! Tolkien actually struck these lines out and in the published Silm it's Thingol who wants Beren dead. Christopher Tolkien says of this cut: "It may be that my father wished to represent Dairon as less unequivocally hostile to Beren, and also ashamed of his words to Thingol."

Next time Daeron shows up Luthien is going to him for consolation and help (as in the Silm):

'O Dairon, Dairon, my tears,' she cried, 'now pity for our old day's sake!'

She asks him to play music for her, which he does, and she feels better.

Addressing him as "my friend" she asks for his help "if he would not for love of her / go by her side a wanderer" seeking for Beren.

Daeron swears to protect her -- but what he really means is he's going to tell her dad that she's lost her goddamn mind.

But straightway Dairon sought the king and told him his daughter's pondering, and how her madness might her lead to ruin, unless the king gave heed.

When Thingol decides the appropriate response here is to lock her up, Daeron feels pretty bad about it, and often visits Hirilorn.

There Dairon grieving often stood in sorrow for the captive of the wood [...] Luthien would from her window stare and see him far under piping there, and she forgave his betraying word for the music and the grief she heard, and only Dairon would she let across her threshold foot to set.

Which brings me to:

3. Daeron repents and Luthien forgives him.

See that passage above? She forgives him! And he's the only person she lets visit her!

Next up, Luthien learns that Beren is imprisoned in Tol-in-Gaurhoth and she gathers all the various implements she needs to make her big escape.

Then Dairon she called: 'I prithee, friend, climb up and talk to Luthien!' And sitting as her window then, she said: 'My Dairon...

And she asks him to craft her a loom (which she will use to weave her hair into the cloak of darkness she uses to escape, but she doesn't say this). Daeron shows some concern over what her plans are with this and she answers ominously and evasively.

Then Dairon wondered, but he spake no word to Thingol, though his heart feared the dark purpose of her art.

He doesn't tell! He knows she's up to something but this time he doesn't tell. He's learned. (Note that because Lúthien doesn't reveal exactly what she's doing, he doesn't necessarily have the same duty to tell Thingol.)

Then as we know, Luthien escapes and goes missing. The part of the Lay covering the events in Doriath while Luthien and Beren complete their quest weren't written, so all we know of Daeron's next actions come from what's in the Silm:

And it is told that in that time Daeron the minstrel of Thingol strayed from the land, and was seen no more. [...] But seeking for Luthien in despair he wandered upon strange paths, and passing over the mountains he came into the East of Middle-earth, where for many ages he made lament beside dark waters for Luthien, daughter of Thingol, most beautiful of all living things.

Also in the outlines of the unwritten Leithian Cantos:

Sorrow in Doriath at the flight of Luthien. [...] A mighty hunt is made throughout the realm, but many of the folk stayed north and west and south of Doriath beyond the magic of Melian and were lost. Dairon became separated from his comrades and wandered away into the East of the world, where some say he pipes yet seeking Luthien in vain. [...] Thingol is wroth [at Celegorm etc.] - and is moved to think better of Beren, while yet blaming [him] for the woes that followed his coming to Doriath, and most for the loss of Dairon.

Guh! This is just so tragic to me?? He just... disappears! In despair! How is that not sad?? How is it he made two minor bad judgement calls and this is his fate? Look, Maglor fully deserved his self-exile in pain and regret. I just don't see how Daeron did. But he loved Luthien so much that his despair over betraying and losing her was it for him. Many ages of lamenting. And it was a tragedy for Doriath, too, who lost one of the greatest minds the Sindar ever had.

I get so emotional defending this guy. I'm sorry this is so long.

I made a list of short Daeron fic recs.

[thelordofgifs]

Obscure Tolkien Blorbo: Round 1

Daeron vs Andreth

Daeron:

The minstrel of Doriath, noted for his invention of the Cirth and his friendship with (and betrayal of) Lúthien.

Daeron propaganda! If I had to sum it up in a few words I’d say “tragic sad musician! imagine the banger songs he’d write!” It pains to say this, but the Silm does say he was better than Maglor. And we all love Maglor and his song possibilities. So, Daeron here can upstage the Nolodantë—if we aren’t taking that as bias! How cool! Wandering off on your own and composing sad and beautiful songs is an artist MOOD. The Luthien thing was a little weird but at least sympathize with the sad unrequited.

The mans was an amazing musician and would have been giving our man Maglor a run for his money anyday. I think he's awesome and I would vote for him and his big heart 100 times over. I love that he's one of the characters with the obscure "deaths" where he simply disappears. I always love to dabble in the "what ifs" of their survival. But anyway, I might be (am) super biased because of ancient roleplay.

He is the greatest minstrel from the elven tribe distinguished for its musical talent. But the best part is he's Sindarin. He’s the one precious example of an elf who never saw the light of the Trees being extraordinary. Also, Tolkien gave him the honour of inventing an alphabet, the Certhas Daeron. Not just anyone gets to be a linguistic inventor in Tolkien’s mythology. As far as I’m concerned, his musical skill combined with his linguistic ability make him a JRRT-approved blorbo. As for his obvious fault (betraying Lúthien), in the Lay of Leithian, he, repenting for forgiven, helps Lúthien escape. She requests a loom (that she will use to weave her hair into her magic cloak) and he, despite fearing ”the fell purpose of her art” says nothing. He lets her go. And then he removes himself from the story, because it’s no longer about him. He invented the wandering, despairing, repentant minstrelsy lifestyle while Maglor was still happily kinslaying. He’s so misunderstood. He deserves this.

Andreth:

A woman of the First Age, one of the central characters of the Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth. In her youth she had a romance with Finrod’s brother Aegnor.

She's wise, she's angry, she's bitter, she's everything to me. Blorbo to end all blorbos.

Old philosopher woman who challenges elves about their understanding of reality

Round 1 masterpost