#she spends the whole song addressing a different person

[citizendetective]

going completely feral over Hits Different 

[thelostgirl21]

How to solve the whole situation once they've found Ciri...

Jaskier: I think Ciri should marry Radovid.

Geralt: Are you insane? He's way too old for -

Radovid: If I may, he's talking about a purely political alliance. I can assure you I'm gay, and I've got absolutely no matrimonial interest in your daughter. I do, however, so happen to have a kingdom that I'd very much love to abdicate from in favor of a queen that might actually have an interest in running it.

Ciri: I could use a kingdom! One that would treat elves, dwarves and humans as equals...

Jaskier: See? She'd make a great queen! They get married, Radovid renounces the throne, they divorce, Ciri inherits Redania - and with it the most powerful army in the North to keep her safe... Oooh! And Yennefer could be her mage adviser!

Yennefer: You sound like you've been giving this way too much thought...

Geralt: Wait. Redania legalized divorce?

Jaskier: And gay marriage, too. *Tries to sound casual about it.* Not that this is, you know, at all relevant to the the current situation.

Geralt: And why should we believe the King of Redania would be keen on giving up power so easily?

Radovid: Look, all I really wanted was a pretty song...

Geralt: *Eyes him suspiciously*

Jaskier: No, he's being honest. Had my doubts, too, but turns out all he really wanted, at first, was a pretty song.

Geralt: *Slowly realizes what this is about, an amused glint in his eyes as he looks back at him.* I thought you didn't do pretty?

Jaskier: *Dramatically throws his arms in the air, slightly annoyed.* Well, apparently I do now, don't I?

Radovid: *Smirking smuggly* I'm "pretty".

Ciri: *Totally missing the innuendo* You really are!

Radovid: *Delighted and preening* Thank you.

Yennefer: *Snorts*

Yarpen: *Points to Jaskier and Radovid* Wait. Has the lute-playing walloper been fucking a King?

Geralt: *Groans and sighs* Again, real subtle, Yarpen.

Yarpen: *Whisling while looking at Jaskier, somewhat impressed.* Didn't think you'd have it in you, friend!

Radovid: Well, technically -

Jaskier: Aaand on that note! I'll also need Ciri to divorce him, so I can marry him after.

Ciri: *Excitedly* You two are getting married?

Jaskier: Only if you are! Which, I'm aware, makes very little sense...

Radovid: I actually did offer to marry him first - and have Redania become the first kingdom to have two kings - but that triggered a bit of a panic attack.

Jaskier: Look, I stopped using that viscount title and left nobility behind for a reason. If Ciri can make room in the castle for a retired king and his traveling bard, I'd be fine spending a few weeks or even months living at court from time to time. Especially at first, so Radovid can help her get settled and update her on the most important issues that need to be addressed and resolved in the kingdom.

Ciri: Of course you'd always have a home here, and I wouldn't just kick Radovid out! Actually, would it be okay for me to let him keep his prince title? Just in case anything happens to me, and -

Yennefer: *Firmly* Nothing's going to happen to you.

Ciri: Yeah but -

Geralt: No buts. We won't allow it.

Ciri: What if I accidentally portal myself to another dimension? Wouldn't want to force me to leave the Kingdom unattended until I get back, would you?

Jaskier: Hate to say it, but she does have a point.

Radovid: Look, if that would give the Princess some peace of mind to have someone willing to be holding the fort in case of emergencies... But, if that were to happen, I'd be needing Jaskier's help.

Jaskier: *Shrugs* I mean, I guess that would work. It's not that I don't want to get involved in making people's lives better in the kingdom, or share in any of those responsibilities. It's just that, no matter how much I love any of you guys - and I really do love you - I tend to get quite antsy and unpleasant confined to a single location for too long.

Radovid: And personally, I've always wanted to travel, meet different people, and experience some of the tales that have inspired Jaskier's songs for myself.

Geralt: You know he makes a lot of those things up, right?

Radovid: *Shrugs* I think Jaskier's always told those stories the way he sees them - for what they are or mean to him according to his own emotional truth, rather than facts. For example, I've always thought that "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher" was about how the world tends to forget that, behind every larger-than-life heroic figure, there's often just someone that needs to be looked after, too, offered a drink from time to time, listened to, and treated as a friend. If accuracy or factually reporting events had been his goal, then he'd have become a historian, not a bard.

Yennefer: That's... surprisingly insightful.

Jaskier: *Swooning* I know... *Sighs happily* He really is quite brilliant, isn't he?

Radovid: *Blushes brightly* I take it my humble interpretation's not too far off?

Jaskier: *Leans in to whisper into his ear.* I'll let you know just how close you got later...

Geralt: *Confused* Okay, what's actually happening here?

Ciri: *Chuckles* It's called poetry.

Jaskier: *Dreamily, mostly to himself* You'd have to be a spoon to get it...

Radovid: *Now also confused* Wait. What? Now I don't get it.

Jaskier: *Winces slightly* Sorry. That one's on me, you're missing context. You're a spoon, Geralt's a hammer - just...

Radovid: ...different tools for different purposes?

Jaskier: *Makes a half strangled noise, as his legs threaten to give up on him.*

Yarpen: *Motioning to Jaskier while looking at Yennefer, bit puzzled* Does your bard usually do that?

Yennefer: *Looking deep in thoughts, seemingly analysing the situation* Not that I've ever been aware of.

Geralt: Yeah, no. That's new.

Ciri: *Incredulously* You've been travelling with him for, like, over 20 years, and you're telling me you've never seen him have a crush before?

Yennefer: Oh! Oh. Yeah, that's um - okay. I think you're right - I mean, I can see the nuance.

Jaskier (*slowly coming back to himself*) & Geralt: What nuance?

Yennefer: *Innocently* Nothing! Just enjoy your spoon, bard. I'll explain it to the hammer later.

Geralt: *Huffs thoughtfully*

Jaskier: *Still looking unsure* Alright...

Yarpen: You know what, I think it's safer if I don't know.

Radovid: I'm actually not entirely sure I follow...

Yennefer: *Uses magic to telepathically communicate with Radovid, making him blush even brighter.*

Radovid: No, I mean, that seems...

Yennever: *Continues to telepathically communicate with him, looking fondly amused, and just the slightest bit smug.*

Radovid: *Bashfully* I'll ah, I'll take your word for it, and thank you...

Jaskier: What did she just say?

Radovid: Nothing bad, and I'll tell you one day, when the time's right, I promise.

Jaskier: *Doesn't look quite convinced.*

Yennefer: *Rolls eyes* I promise it's fine, Pankratz. Now stop pouting!

Jaskier: *Sighs dramatically* Fine!

Radovid: But,to go back to the whole political royal union thing, I did look to see if I could just hand the kingdom over to Ciri - simply name a successor and step down. Sadly, changing the laws of succession would appear to be a complete nightmare!

Geralt: Meaning we have to trust that you'll honor your end of the agreement, and -

Yarpen: What? You really think that King's going to attempt to stay married to your kid with the amount of eye fucking that's been happening between him and your bard?

Geralt: *Groans* Yarpen, for fuck's sake!

Yennefer: That's a bit of a crude way to put it, but he's got a point.

Geralt: You know Dijsktra and Philippa won't be happy about this, right?

Jaskier: Yeah, well, good thing you and Yennefer are scarier than Dijsktra and Philippa.

Ciri: *Crosses arms on her chest, pointedly looking at Jaskier* Why are you overlooking the fact that I'd totally rip their spines out if they tried to come after you and hurt my family?

Jaskier: Gods, I love you kid! *Pulls Ciri into a tight hug*

Radovid: Didn't you say Yennefer was the scary one?

Jaskier: Like mother, like daughter.

Yarpen: *Proudly* I actually taught the cub how to rip out spines.

Geralt: *Gives two vigorous pats on Radovid's shoulder, almost making him fall over* Welcome to the family, Radovid! *Whispering omninously* But, should you ever try to hurt Jaskier or Ciri, trust me, you'll be wishing she ripped out your spine.

Yennefer: Yes, because I know how to eternally trap souls into an infernal dimension.

Radovid: *Hesitating* That's... oddly reassuring. *Visibly relaxing while looking at Jaskier* You were right, love - Dijsktra and Philippa aren't so scary after all, are they?

Jaskier: *Smuggly* Told you!

Yennefer: Are we sure we shouldn't have been warning Jaskier not to hurt him?

Geralt: Hmm... I was just thinking that, too.

[chaosteddybear]

philia 3, store 3, pragma 2 for sasli!❤️

AH thank you, what fun ones for her!!! <3

Philia 3: What qualities does your OC most value in a friend? Loyalty? Shared sense of humour? Or something else?

Ooooh, a good one. I think for Sasli her biggest value for friendship is her insatiable interest in learning. Can you teach her things? Maybe about her family history, of which she knows nothing? She so much prefers to learn from people than from books, so... show her. Explain to her. Be patient about it. She will love you!

However, she really also values creativity. That would be the top thing making her interested in spending time with someone no matter her feelings about them as a person. Play a song? Draw something? Write something? Please. Whatever rocks your boat. And she does not care how "good" it is, she's focusing on your face the whole time.

And finally, maybe the basest one for her, is acceptance. Letting people be who they are, and not trying to change them or judge them for it. This is what she does with her friends, and she loves to see them do it as well. That said, there is one (1) person she likes to tease. A lot! I think she and Agria have this one in common too hehe, albeit different motivations (she actually is just responding to him waging "war" but he unlocked her chaos mode in doing so and she will win).

Storge 3: How far does parental approval (imagined or expressed) impact upon their current sense of self-worth? What might they sacrifice or attempt to achieve in order to ensure the approval of their parents?

Oh my gods. I WANT to say nothing but....

Here's the thing. Her mom (a cambion) abandoned her to be raised by her dad (a tiefling). Her dad was...well he never accepted her truly because he never accepted himself. He chose to live among wood elves because he felt their live there was better than anywhere else. But he failed to calculate how much it would affect her to feel she had to hide so many parts of herself because they were unacceptable in that society.. She left as soon as he passed.

But if she were to meet her mom ever??!?!!?!? "Mommy, notice me, love me," yea, I sure expect that to happen. I don't think she would change who she is, but she would certainly try to lean harder into her fiendish line.

Pragma 2: What is the biggest challenge that your OC has had to overcome in a long-term relationship or friendship? What helped them get through this?

WOW. Biggest challenge in a friendship might be Mix being in love with her? Lots of people can't continue to be friends with folks they know want more with them. Um, let's just say she handled it by....not handling it. She really just doesn't address it and leaves him to his own devices. She doesn't stop him from giving of himself to her. She doesn't make it her problem at all. He wants to do what he wants to do, and he shouldn't expect anything more back! Luckily, this works with him. He doesn't expect anything back, and he doesn't expect her to love him back. And he keeps giving.

In a relationship - the biggest challenge is expressing her desires. I wrote a whole angsty thing I might publish someday of her telling herself horrible things after sleeping with someone she fell in love with, how it's over now and they don't want to see her again.. The frozen state she was in, not wanting to be a burden or ruin their perfect night, but wanting desperately for him to stay. The deep need in her gut for him not to leave. Here, the hurdle was jumped by two things, a) her failure to actually hide how she felt, and b) his actual interest in her. So, she got what she wanted anyway....

The ask post

[fragiledewdrop]

TOLKIEN, MYTH AND THE EARLY 20TH CENTURY

A week ago I wrote a post about my excitement in discovering just how much Tolkien took inspiration from Anglo-Saxon poetry.

I was so lost in my little over-emotional bubble that I was genuinely a little surprised when a few people expressed their disappointment in discovering that "The Lord of The Rings" wasn't wholly original. It makes sense, though, so I thought I'd address it.

These are @fortunes-haven ' s tags:

@sataidelenn already wrote an interesting reply, but I'd like to approach the question from a different point of view. Why? Because the first thing I thought about when reading this comment was how I myself have grumbled under my breath about having to wade through someone's "personal mythology smoothie", only I wasn't reading Tolkien. I was reading T. S. Eliot.

Now, I want to preface this by making it clear that I am well aware Tolkien is by no means a modernist. He did, however, write LOTR in England in the late 30s. He was part of the same culture, the same society, and above all the same historical context that produced "The Waste Land" and "Ulysses", and I think we should take that into account when we discuss his work.

Because by the time Tolkien published LOTR, Joyce and Eliot and Yeats had already discussed and applied the mythic method. Was Tolkien aware of their debates? Did he read and appreciate their books? I have no clue. It would take some research to find out, research I currently (unfortunately) don’t have time for. But I do not think it a stretch to suggest that Tolkien might have been moved by the same need that drove other writers to look back at myth, although in very different ways.

Why did Joyce and Eliot feel compelled to return to the narrative roots of mankind? Why did Yeats devote so much time to Celtic lore? Why did Tolkien write a new epic and base it on the Saxon world?

The answer is the same: because they lived at the start of a century that posed more questions than ever, but provided no answers; a century when time and the human mind and the very structure of matter had ceased to be solid, defined, a foundation to rely on; a century torn apart by brutal, inhumane, sensless war.

When you can't find answers in the present and the future is so uncertain it's laughable, you look to the past. Because the thing is, we can talk about "personal mythology" all we want, but myths are never personal. They are universal. They are tied to a specific cultural context, certainly, but they exemplify emotions, truths and tragedies that are common (or supposed to be common) to all humankind, beyond space and time. Myths are supposed to be eternal.

They are also a very effective shorthand to communicate rather complex concepts.

I can write five pages telling my girlfriend that she makes me feel safe, that she is something I've longed for and fought to gain, something I've dreamed about but that I'm scared I'll lose. I could, and I probably wouldn’t be able to convey exactly what I mean.

Or I could say "She is my Ithaca" and you would get it, wouldn’t you?

There are whole books that try to explain the symbolism behind "The Green Knight", but Eliot can offhandedly mention a chapel and he has basically evoked the whole original poem plus the centuries of scolarship that followed.

Tolkien could have had his characters recite long monologues about how they feel like their world has been lost. Instead, he has one of them sing a song by the campfire. An 8th century song, about a warrior in exile. He achieves in a couple of lines what could have taken him a whole book to convey, and he does it in a way that goes straight to the heart, even if we don't know exactly why.

And that's the thing: not all of us spend years researching myths and old poetry. Certainly we don't do it when reading LOTR for the first time, especially if that's when we are 13 or 10 or 8 years old. But we get it anyway. We know myths, especially Western myths, one way or another, as if through cultural osmosis. We understand myths from other cultures too- we may need a bit of context, but we do- and often we find that the bones of the stories are similar, across oceans and centuries.

That means that using myths as the building blocks of your story is an amazingly effective way to cut to the quick, to get to the core of what the narrative is aiming at.

I have seen so many people talk about the feeling they get when reading LOTR, or even just thinking about it: that nostalgia? That bittersweet hurt? That longing for something bright and lost, for a star or a jewel or a land beyond the sea? That, right there. That is what Tolkien achieves by telling stories inside stories, by having his words have a meaning and weight that we would associate with a bard or a preacher, not a fantasy writer. And, as I have discovered recently, it's almost exactly the same feeling you get when reading Saxon poetry.

It's almost as if he chose it on purpose, isn’t it?

That's not all, though.

As both people tagged above(and many others, myself included) have already written, Tolkien doesn’t just use myths as building blocks. He alters them.

Yes, Frodo's hero's journey is not typical. Yes, there are a lot of similarities between the last part of LOTR and the Odissey, but they are not quite the same.

That's because Frodo is not, and can't be, Ulysses. He isn’t a warrior crowned with glory and cunning who reconquers his home and that leaves it because a god has promised him peace if he does. He is a mutilated soldier coming home from the trenches, only to find that he no longer belongs in the home he has bled for.

Frodo is a new hero, for a new age (just like Ulysses was a new hero for a new age, which I rather think is one of the reasons Joyce chose him as the model for his novel. The Odissey was already subversive in and of itself. "An odd duck", as @sataidelenn put it.)

We have to understand just how traumatic WWI was. It's a shift, a break so immense that it changed society, politics, culture, family structures, the idea of hero and even of manhood. The Western World was not the same after 1918. Of course art changed too.

Would Tolkien have written LOTR had he not fought in that war? Probably. But it would have been a very, very different book. The way it deals with war, technology, trauma, peace and friendship-all the things we love about it- are direct fruits of that conflict. I think the way myth fits into it is, too.

I can understand being disappointed that not everything in Lotr is wholly new, wholly Tolkien's invention. It didn’t even occur to be to be, though, because I am used of thinking of it in these terms.

All the myths he uses- from Kullervo to Ulysses to Beowolf to medieval fairy tales- are means to tell a new story. They come back to life, and while we perceive how timeless they are, they end up telling us something that is rooted in time. A new English epic, yes, but very clearly an epic of England between two world wars. A 20th century heroic tale which offers a desperate, brave hope for the future. How can we not love it?

And look, I might joke about personal mythology smoothies to myself all the time, but the reason I keep reading and studying Eliot and Joyce and Yeats is that they do have something new to say, something amazing. You can take them or leave them, love them or hate them, but "unoriginal" is not an adjective you can, in good conscience, apply to their work.

I think, in a weird way, Tolkien is the same.

"In manipulating a continuous parallel between contemporaneity and antiquity, Mr. Joyce is pursuing a method which others must pursue after him. They will not be imitators, any more than the scientist who uses the discoveries of an Einstein in pursuing his own, independent, further investigations. It is simply a way of controlling, of ordering, of giving shape and significance to the immense panorama of futility and anarchy which is contemporary history. It is a method already adumbrated by Mr. Yeats, and of the need for which I believe that Mr. Yeats to have been first contemporary to be conscious. Psychology (such as it is, and whether our reaction to it be comic or serious), ethnology, and The Golden Bough have concurred to make possible what was impossible even a few years ago. Instead of narrative method, we may now use the mythic method. It is, I seriously believe, a step toward making the modern world possible for art." ��T.S. Eliot, from Ulysses, Order, and Myth (1923)

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group B, Round 1, Poll 1:

Propaganda under the cut

Mercymorn

Girlbossing for the last ten thousand years. She says stuff like “ough” and “pfaugh” like actually saying the word. She (with the help of a colleague) seduced god to steal his jizz. She has memorised the entirety of human biology so that she can appropriately fuck with people using her wizard powers. She doesn’t know the difference between an 18 year old and an infant. She fantasises about putting god in a jail and filling the jail up with acid for every time he made a frivolous remark or ate peanuts in a meeting or said “what would I know I’m only god” and leave him in there for a thousand years. She often thinks about this.

Soyo Nagasaki

Ok to start with this is largely a joke submission, since I saw a whole post talking about how she was totally a gaslighter and the worst person ever when she is just a 15 year old girl who lied for a while (it was an actual list of her "crimes". If you're curious the list, in order, is (using exact phrasing) gaslighting, lying, manipulative, playing the victim, messing peoples psychology, severe coping and apathy), plus several viewers I saw actually wanting her dead for that. Anyways so Soyo sure is a character. She was part of the band CRYCHIC, and was truly happy for the first time in ages because of it, except one day it disbanded and she kind of had no clue what to do about that, especially since she entirely lost touch with most of the band, with the exception of Mutsumi, their guitarist. Then she met Anon, reunited with her old band's vocalist and drummer, Tomori and Taki respectively and ended up forming a band with them. Except she didn't really want this new band.

Her master plan was just to let it run for a while, then convince Mutsumi and their keyboardist, Sakiko, to rejoin, hope that Anon and later Raana (the band's second guitarist) would leave and then have CRYCHIC back together. Ignoring that Mutsumi had said she hated every single second of being in CRYCHIC when they disbanded and Sakiko had been actively avoiding Soyo for a while. I'm going to say maybe this is gatekeeping because generally she just did not want anybody but the original members in this ideal scenario of hers and was choosing a band full of people who didn't want to be in it over a band where everybody was pretty happy except her. Anyways, so after some foreshadowing, both in just the ways this series loves using lighting tricks for specifically her and also her just generally noting that she was happy to be in a band with Taki and Tomori a little too often when never bringing up the members, plus a scene which might come up later where everybody promises Tomori that the band will remain after their first live despite the fact that Soyo did not want that at all, they had their first live, and both Sakiko and Mutsumi were watching from the crowd. Then they began an impromptu performance of Haruhikage/Spring Sunlight, a song originally belonging to CRYCHIC and one of the first major steps they had taken as a band due to it being their first song and what made Tomori their lyricist. Sakiko was very upset by this and left, Soyo noticed that she left and spent the rest of the performance having a category 5 girl moment and, after things were done, she began yelling at everybody over them playing that song despite it not being on their setlist, because reclaiming something which once made you happy and also upsetting Sakiko are both forbidden concepts as far as Soyo is concerned. Anyways, she stopped seeing them all, and, after spending some time away from school, began telling Mutsumi how ungodly selfish she is and how she's too prone to speaking her mind over not wanting to stick with something which made her very unhappy and also, in that moment, not telling her Sakiko's address the millisecond she asked. Then she talked to Sakiko after mentioning that yeah she kind of forced Mutsumi to bring her to her and Sakiko pointed out that Soyo was kind of only thinking about herself there. And overall her chances of CRYCHIC getting back together weren't super existent afterwards.

She ended up telling Taki all about how she lied to all of them once Taki managed to track her down (since she'd been avoiding and ignoring everybody from the band), which Taki obviously was not super happy about. The fact that Anon and Raana were kind of meant to be lost as CRYCHIC reformed also got back to Anon, which broke apart what remained of the band for a bit. Anyways all of this next stuff is this week's episode (as of writing it, because there's still a few more to go) and I'm happy I waited because I think it's funny that there's a while scene where, after chasing after Soyo up to her home and then being invited inside, Anon points out that Soyo sure does tell a not of lies, and says that she has a malicious side to her, and Soyo immediately asked if she was trying to start a fight, though this did ultimately turn to Anon trying to bring her back to the band. Soyo does try to point out how much of Anon wanting to be in a band was just her trying to look good as a jab but Anon did not take it. Soyo ends up going to the band with the sole intention of ending it with her own two hands, because technically Anon and her were the reason it started, but then she was immediately told to quit her quitting plan and rejoin their band, and it does kind of seem like she'll start recovering from her everything soon, since she ultimately took up her bass for a performance and had a nice little cry about it. So she's getting better from the gaslight gatekeep things but she still has problems

AND I'M SO SORRY THAT GOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED. Anyways, for an overview, the gaslight component is why I submitted this largely as a joke but she is pretty manipulative in general, gatekeep I guess could work for her perspective on CRYCHIC and the idea of reforming it without the additional members they'd gained along the way with their new, to-be-MyGO!! band and girlboss.... yeah, I'm not sure actually, because while I'm sure somebody could argue she has girlboss moments, she is flopping so hard and taking so many Ls that I'm not sure.

[grilledkatniss]

Okay so I'm just now catching up on whatever this "why is she shading Joe if she's happy in her new relationship omg" and the comparisons with Lover's I Forgot That You Existed's reactions of "why would she feel the need to come after Calvin if she's in a happy relationship omg" and...

Alright, listen. Here's my super fresh out the over hot take: have we forgotten who we're talking about? Melancolia, and digging up the grave another time, and never leaving well enough alone, and remembering it all too well, and looking back, and recalling now, and seeing it all now that it's gone, and wishing she'd realized what she had, and the whole ass concept of midnights is her dealing with the past and coming to terms with the series of events (happy or unfortunate) that led up to where she is now. It's her coping and doing that hindsight is 20/20, introspective psychoanalytic revisiting of the past, a terribly underappreciated skill characteristic to someone who's very emotionally intelligent. She's like an Olympic Gymnast in emotional maturity and intelligence at this point, and as such she never stops training and practicing -as in, she never stops reminiscing and taking apart what was and isn't anymore, like someone who's trying to figure out what didn't work out, what was the last straw, where were the signs she missed, what should've gone differently, how they could have fixed things, etc etc- It's her niche, her field of expertise and trade mark. Why is it becoming an issue now? Like, our capacity for empathy is super selective, honestly.

Also, now knowing how long it'd been shelved, there's a new bigger book of itemized speculations from the public, many of which will hardly ever get any sign of official recognition, much less one of direct confirmation.

It was probably one of those songs that was meant to be just for her and never released, or that didn't fit any album yet. Hell, it was probably what nudged her into starting a whole new album after an entire year of putting out rerecordings. Maybe she was already well underway designing the concept for the album, maybe the concept was already set, maybe this one at the moment fit said concept and was a call back to another sleepless night that could've taken place at any point in her life, be that recent past or decades ago past, current relationship's past struggles, ancient relationship ponderings.. you know what I mean? She's not doing anything out of what we've learn to expect from her throughout her career but more specifically when it comes to her latest studio album, which literally, as the well established and expressively stated core concept foretells, is an exploration of a lifetime of insomnia inducing ruminations.

[That being said, at the beginning of the year she did spend quite a lot of time flying back and from NYC's Electric Lady Studios (but I actually think she was most likely working on the rerecording of Speak Now and 1989) so there's that on the table.]

But at the end of the day these are people we don't know personally, and unless Joe decides to write a memoir (highly improbable), write another few songs but on his own and make them public, or write/direct a piece in the audiovisual department that specifically addresses the end of a long and very scrutinized relationship, idk something of the like, we might never know his side of the story. Taylor has this very public outlet and a huge platform whereas Joe doesn't beyond his sporadic Instagram photo dumps every once in a while.

Anyway, I don't think her puting an already published song now out on Spotify is a dig. She probably knew this assumption was inevitable and by now super predictive, cause this type of speculation has happened with literally every single one of her songs. She simply decided not to shield away from the scrutiny that was to come regardless and not let the public frenzy censor her anymore. People were gonna think the worst either way, make up theories and demonize her and the intentions they imagine she had for putting out a song about her own life.

I also think she learned from the experience of the re-releases that now she doesn't have to limit her self expression to appease absolutely anyone other than herself. She doesn't have to keep the men in suits with the big pockets happy to get where she wants to go. The rerecordings are a passion project of hers, where the fans' impressions and opinions haven't weighed too much in the making of. Yet, the relentless encouragement she's received from said fans, along with the praise from the media as an after the fact result (which could have never been taken for granted since none of them were counting on it getting any sustancial pay off, keeping in mind an enterprise like that hadn't had that much commercial success in previous attempts by several other artists... which is exactly why she was doing it more for herself and her own personal moral and legal gain) have helped in getting her out of her head about releasing discarded projects. You know, stuff that for some reason or another had to be cut from the final more polished official version of the end product. And it reassured her in the fact that, in the position she's in, at least today, whatever she releases will most likely not bomb commercially. Also, as an added bonus, not only does she get to get things off her chest and speak her truth, but revel in the knowledge that it feeds both the media and her own fanbase with content she knows it's desperately being sought after and craved for, not out of necessity but out of greed for anything resembling an inside look into her up till very recently pretty much kept under wraps and extremely undisclosed private life. Yes, even if it's calculated, cause it's a taste of the type of flaunting and overexposing she was known for during the 1989 era, where everyone and everything clung to her for clout.

What was my point? Something along the lines of be thankful for the dashboard food she's providing us with, but also be nice??? Be more aware of the bigger picture and the inner workings behind the decision of putting out a previously shelved song??? And be empathetic??? It's not that hard??

And, sidenote: in case it was so -that she's still harboring some type of feelings towards Joe (anger, resentment, sadness, longing, etc)-, she's completely entitled to feel any which way she might deem appropriate in regards to her own life, her own relationships and situations, and act and react upon them accordingly. We, however, are NOT entitled to any answer whatsoever. All tidbits, drops of tea and crumbs of scones are hers to disclose if so she chooses and at will, not ours to demand.

[fernsandsunflowers]

You guys want to hear my heavily Adhd fuelled bat shit crazy theory on what might have happened to God or how we might start to find them? Because it's a whole ass journey and I'm in the car now so might as well just see where the road takes me you know.

just bear with me OK.

A close friend of mine finally finished season 2 and we were theorizing. And while talking about all the very many things that were left open ended, she brings up Gabriel's prophecy. And I realize that shit Neil Gaiman you sly fox you had me actually forget that there was an entire prophecy!

So I start thinking of all the ways that someone could have actually made me, a person that loves spending an inexcusable amount of time dissecting anything that is even remotely prophetic, forget that it even happened. And I think, it was may be because the first and last (third) moments of real memory that Gabriel had are addressed and seemingly resolved soon after. So the second one, the middle child if you will, is kinda forgotten. So, after google searches trying to see if there are any theories out there about Gabriel's prophecy (because I haven't come across any on tumblr?? if there are theories out there please send them my way!) I decide to take matters into my own hands and go back into the episode. Then I noticed something and then something else and now I've rewatched all three moments several times and I was writing a post here comparing them when monkey brain started to make wilder connections and now here we are and I just need to get it out.

First Memory:

Gabriel 'quotes' God. Soon after Gabriel says those words Crowley says hey wasn't that what God said to Job and then we jump into the Job memory where we hear God say those words, albeit slightly different. God poses the sentence as a question, while Gabriel says it in the first person.

Things to note about this memory :

Gabriel's Purple eyes return.

You hear God's voice overlay-ed over Gabriel's

Not do you remember the morning stars..?, I remember the....

Gabriel is in a lot of pain, remembering hurts his brain.

He says "I can't remember those things, my head isn't big enough, not anymore".

The memory comes after he is pushed by Crowley to remember. This little point is not entirely relevant more just me continuing to die on the Crowley is Lucifer hill: I think it's significant that it was this particular line that was quoted and it was triggered right after Crowley asked "what is the very first thing you remember" and not when Aziraphale asked Gabriel the exact same question. and the line happened to have the phrase 'morning stars'.

Second "Memory":

Not a memory but a prophecy with a little drop of memory at the end.

"There will come a tempest. and darkness and great storms. and the dead will leave their graves and walk the earth once more. And there will be great lamentations. Everyday it's getting closer."

I don't know a lot of biblical lore but some of the word choices used are very significant and directly refers to moments of judgement and reckoning and the second coming. Tempest and great storms is maybe referencing Noah; the dead will leave their graves - the second coming? and then great lamentations - from the book of lamentations, ie destruction of Jerusalem - also a judgement day type situation right? Dissecting this prophecy was the entire reason I started on this but I've gone off-track now. If anyone does have more detailed theories on this though I am so interested!

[very sneaky to end the prophecy with everyday it's getting closer - a drop of something Gabriel - because that could be referencing just the second coming getting closer AND also be a little something that will help us slightly dismiss it. Because it puts the audience back in the mindset of the song and hey the song get's addressed right - what was the other stuff Gabriel was saying, eh it's probably not important]

Things to note about this moment:

Purple eyes

God's voice overlay

This is the only time Gabriel goes into this zone pre getting his memories back where he is not pushed into remembering. Crowley simply says the word 'tempest' and it triggers purple eyed god voiced Gabriel.

Gabriel is not in pain. He does not say it hurts to remember.

He also doesn't seem to know what happened : When he comes out of it, he seems to switch back into his body almost but not quite. He shakes his head a little and looks somewhat confused both by his surroundings and by Crowley standing in front of and staring. And in that same state of confusion he asks "who am I? What's happened to me?". And in theme of this season immediately after he says that, something flashy and distracting happens, this time in the form of Shax knocking on the window. And very suspiciously, in my opinion, the camera never shifts back to Gabriel again. We go from Shax at window to Crowley's reaction to Shax and then camera stays on Crowley and follows him out the door. We only see Gabriel again once Crowley returns to the bookshop. And Gabriel is back to testing Gravity.

Third Memory

This one is less 'violent'? in terms of Gabriel remembering. And everything Gabriel says is addressed in the next episode. He says his memory is in a matchbox, no he took it out and put it in a box and now it's... everywhere. He remembers the institutional problem bit. All these things come back and happen as he says and so again, the middle child is neglected.

But let's look at some things to note:

No purple eyes this time or God voice overlay

Continued references to it being painful to remember

He is like an empty house, something that once contained something

He is, essentially in this case, asked the right question by Crowley, a question direct enough that he can give a straight answer.

But the only thing that doesn't quite make sense is that when Crowley asks where are your memories now? Gabriel says 'Everywhere'. Which strikes me as a really odd thing to say about a fly. Even if it is the only thing that's not bound by gravity.

So what is my extremely taken liberties and am I high??? theory you ask?

It was not Gabriel that responded to Crowley - It was God or some part of them that is somehow contained within Gabriel (without his knowledge).

I did warn you this was insane.

It was not Do you remember the morning stars, but I remember the morning stars. And you hear their voice saying it. It strikes me as extremely odd that Gabriel would describe a memory that is supposedly his, that is supposedly his first memory using God's words. He even refers back to it during the conversation he has with Crowley in the third memory (where he remembers putting his memories in a matchbox). He says "like when I remembered how it all began" - but why would he have used that exact phrasing when he wasn't there to hear what God said to Job? Only Crowley and Aziraphale were there.

The prophecy moment was completely weird and Gabriel was not even Jim in that moment. By this point Gabriel was very decidedly inhabiting the roll of Jim - book shop assistant who is sometimes called Gabriel. And by this point he is also somewhat aware or had accepted that he was once this person called Gabriel. So why does he look so lost in that moment - like he wasn't Jim or Gabriel? Who am I? What has happened to me? Could it be someone else also inhabiting the body of Jim, sometimes called Gabriel???

He says an "empty house", a house can contain things, many things. We know that living things can be containers. If a fly can contain something as expansive and large as the memory of a supreme archangel and still be a fly; why wouldn't a supreme archangel be able to also hold the memory of God? or at least some of the memories of God? "my head isn't big enough, not anymore". That is such an odd thing to say. Because it didn't make sense I kept rationalizing it for some reason as Gabriel being human now so his head isn't big enough to contain or recall the memories of an angel. But that's ridiculous and completely wrong, obviously. He's still an angel, he just doesn't have his memory. So if his head (his house) is now empty, they how could it be too small to remember things?

Unless there was something else taking up space?

Where is your memory now? Everywhere. I know this this scene had no God voice, but 'my head is too big', and 'who am I, what's happened to me' all are said by Jim!Gabriel. Normal eyed. Everywhere is just again a thing that doesn't quite make sense in context. But what if that was again not in reference to the fly, but rather in reference to God. That their memory was... everywhere? Scattered for some reason or the other throughout the earth, in different beings, in angels or humans or flies even.

If God or a portion of God's memory is in Gabriel then Gabriel not being present in his own head would allow another's memory space to, I don't know... answer questions?

It's honestly probably doesn't make any sense but hey what a concept right lol if you made it all the way here thank you!

Also just a random little note, I thought it was just interesting that it was Crowley that was involved with any real leads on Gabriel's memory. Not just finding the files and figuring out he wrote a note on the box - but every time Gabriel had any real burts of memory or gave any real answers it was when Crowley asked and not when Aziraphale asked. I don't know if it was just pure coincidence but I just thought it was something of note!

k byyyyyeeeeeee

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Y'all, I'm still stuck on Baby (11x04) so, if it's okay, I'm gonna talk about it some more. Cool? Cool.

Supernatural is a show with just two leads, two main characters, two male lead characters. There is no leading lady in Supernatural... or at least, not a human, or even living one. What Supernatural has, though, is a car. A shiny black, 1967, four door, Chevrolet Impala that "would turn out to be the most important car – no, the most important object – in pretty much the whole universe." At least that's how God Chuck described her in Swan Song (5x22). And yes, this car's pronouns are she/her because she is the leading lady on this show. Not just Dean's faithful steed or the Winchester men's family home after Mary's death in the opening of the Pilot, but Dean's Baby is a character, complete with an established backstory that includes time travel. And like her co-stars, she has been beaten, maimed, and even killed and resurrected during the course of the show.

This episode is experimental, a bottle episode that was shot entirely within the confines of the car, giving the whole thing an intimate and close feel, but without ever being claustrophobic. That odd juxtaposition is due to the very nature of cars. They are little rolling insides that travel all around the outsides, transporting us in an enclosed space surrounded by windows and the passing scenery. While they are enclosed, they feel very open. Cars as a metaphor for freedom, is a concept that is deeply rooted in the American psyche and Baby is as classic American metal as the music favored by the show. So even with the camera only feet, and sometimes only inches from the human characters, we can still often forget that we never leave the car. The show has always given us shots of the boys from within the car, as if we were sitting in the backseat, or from one side of the front seat or the other, or as if we were perched in a window, or even on the hood looking in, but this episode gives us gorgeous views of what is happening outside of the car as well.

And we get so many different views from within the car, from under the dash or the floor between the seats, that you really do feel like you are sitting in it, so much so you can almost smell it.

I mentioned the joyride adventure that Jessie the valet takes Baby on in my previous post about the episode, but I realized that I overlooked how fun that scene was. It really felt, after the initial fear that this silly girl would somehow hurt the car, like maybe the car was actually having just as much fun as the girls as they did donuts in that dirt lot. Baby is an athletic car, lots of muscle, speed, and power, and the whole sequence felt youthfully, recklessly, joyous so that when Jessie returns the car unscratched to Dean and Sam, and they are none the wiser, it feels like getting away with some secret rebellious act that the car was in on.

The Impala is a character, not because it thinks or is sentient in any way (with the exception of that time that Sam WAS the Impala) but because of the way that we tend to personify inanimate objects and project our emotional reactions onto them. We do this with cars and homes especially, places where we spend a lot of time, and Baby just happens to be both.

And to anyone who scoffs at the idea of inanimate objects having a spirit or personality of their own, I ask what you do when your car doesn't start right away?

That's right, I guarantee that you've done exactly what Dean does here, closed your eyes, focused, and willed the car to start. And if/when it finally starts, you either say "thank you" or at least breathe a sigh of gratitude.

I've talked before about how Baby has always been Dean's car, but it is important to note that since Dean was four years old and Sam was only six months old, Baby has really been their only permanent address. That car has been there for them more than either of their parents were (ouch, I know, but it's true). And I feel it must be pointed out that, according to canon, all four members of the Winchester nuclear family have had sex in the backseat of that car, John and Mary, Dean and Anna, and Sam and Piper.

Okee dokee, it's about bedtime for me.

[bigblueoctoling]

Ranting about Bear With Me

It's "Blue saw a post on twitter that made her mad but she doesn't want to engage on twitter" time again

So there's a post going along the lines of "post your least favorite nintendo songs" and someone posts phase 1 of Bear With Me, and it gets a bunch of people responding in defense, and that's what I'm here to talk about.

I'm not just talking about Phase 1, I'm talking about the whole song.

While I will admit that my disdain for Splatoon 3's story mode doubtlessly makes my opinion on the matter biased, I still think that, separated from my feelings on the story mode, that Bear With Me is simply a mediocre song.

For starters, I'll address the obvious thing everyone defends this song with: It sounds bad and discordant on purpose. You don't have to tell anyone that, this song spends the entirety of its runtime begging and screaming at you to be aware of the fact that the bit of the song is that it sounds bad on purpose.

But the thing about songs that are trying to sound discordant and/or distorted and wrong is that having a narrative purpose for sounding bad does not defend the song from criticism- it's true that a song sounding good isn't the only important aspect, but, disconnecting this song from its context (keep in mind that that's doing it a favor, personally), I also don't think it effectively sets a tone or anything, either.

So, it's obvious what it's trying to do- create a song that sounds "wrong". Splatoon has done this multiple times, most notably in two different ways- and much like the rest of splatoon 3's story mode, it just creates a lukewarm attempt at mimicry without actually understanding, let alone surpassing its inspirations.

One of the types of comments made in the responses to the original post that really got to me were the people who were saying things along the line that "Just because the song is weird doesn't mean it's bad! Just like the salmon run music, there's actually deep lore why it sounds like that!"

To be a bit of a bitch about it, I think you're a bit of an idiot if you think that 'Bear With Me' and songs like Deluge Dirge sound "bad" for similar reasons. Deluge Dirge is a song with a very intentional use of an odd time signature, which, combined with the odd, intense instrumentation, is what gives it that brash and chaotic feeling.

Bear With Me feels as though it wanted to have the vibe of being a song with an odd time signature, but they didn't really want to go through the effort, so they just randomly delay some of the song's layers, and as a result it just. Sounds bad.

That being said- they also only really do this in the first phase.

It feels like from the 2nd phase onward the song gives up on trying to create this "chaotic" feeling- this feels like something a lot of the people who defend the song kind of brush past, by saying that the 2nd and 3rd phases are just "better"- and while they sound more like music and less like random trash, they don't replace the clunkiness of the first phase with anything in terms of making the song sound "wrong", leaving only the warbling of some of the instruments, or the occasional stray trumpet doot or wandering parrot of the happy little workers theme.

One of the other things that annoys me about the song is that it simply parrots the Happy Little Workers theme- the song feels SO overwhelmingly preoccupied with making sure you recognize that they put the Happy Little Workers theme in that they didn't really bother to do anything interesting or transformative with it, leaving 90% of the song to be built entirely out of the motif.

Splatoon has a lot of motifs, and personally, I'm a sucker for motifs in general, and especially Splatoon's motifs.

Making a song literally just be a motif repeated over and over isn't good songwriting.

The obligatory charitable response is that the repetition is a part of the song's theme, the mundane repetition representative of the endless grind of capitalism. My retort is that, again, separated from the context of the game, that's a fair point, but it doesn't make the song more enjoyable to listen to. A song can create an air of tedium without actually being tedious in itself.

An alternative defense, one that I agree with, is that the mutation of happy little workers is a potentially interesting commentary on how Mr. Grizz takes the peppy and poppy idealism of the world of splatoon and manipulates it for his own personal gain, much in the same way he injects himself as a necessary part of the world, in order to subjugate salmonid for his own personal gain.

The problem with this defense is that it's just a worse version of what Tartar does.

To avoid spiraling into talking paragraphs about how Tartar does literally everything imaginable more effectively than Mr. Grizz, I'll just say that this song just does what it feels this defense argues Bear With Me is trying to do so much better. Despite how much simpler Telephone's Theme is than Bear With Me, it does so much more than just parrot Tartar's little motif over and over- it's actually a pretty lengthy tune that gently shifts around while just sort of bouncing in place.

By the time the twist comes, the song is completely turned over, slurred and aggressively intimidating, reflecting that Tartar has completely ceased any interest in masking how gruesome his actions are to you.

Transitioning to my final point, the song doesn't feel like it's even trying to get across how physically intimidating, let alone ideologically corrupt, the person you're fighting is. It's too busy jumping up and down on the points of "MAKE IT SOUND BAD!" and "IT'S HAPPY LITTLE WORKERS!!" that it doesn't really worry about being a song that plays as you fight a monstrous person, both physically and mentally.

It obviously gets across the motif of being in space with the generic floaty/grandiose instrumentation, and it gets across the idea that Mr. Grizz Is Kind Of Weird!! by fucking with the song, but the song makes no effort to invoke any sort of intimidation, despite the fact that you're fighting a grizzly bear trying to destroy the world. Phase 3's grandiose trumpets feel completely out of place, and the song overall, despite its "corruption", keeps a genuinely positive tone throughout. It never really grows more intense, nor does it slow down, it just stays at a mindless, steady pace the entire time, feeling as though it's congratulating you for your bravery when you're still fighting the boss.

All in all, Bear With Me is the perfect encapsulation of Splatoon 3's story- a good core idea that was executed poorly and ultimately poorly copied off of what Splatoon 2 did right.

I'm tempted to just keep going and also complain about Calamari Inkantation 3mix, but this post is long enough, I'll wrap that train of thought by saying that the Calamari Inkantation has literally no relevance here, they made no effort to make them singing attached to what was going on, and it's a fucking crime that deep cut doesn't even get to sing their own song in their own game's story mode. It's the obligatory cherry on top of an inedible mess. A cherry is a cherry, but it doesn't fix the mistake it was put on top of.

[cameleche]

I CAN TOTALLY SEE THIS HAPPENING, and I feel like it does have a little bit of foreshadowing tbh 🫣

Like in the song of “Hell’s greatest dad” Alastor gets in the middle of the shot of Husk and Angel holding hands, like it’s just a second, and it could mean nothing but like, idk, I feel like the placement it’s kinda oddly specific tbh 🤨👀🤔

Then there’s the second time in the finale, where Alastor comes in, when they already had finish rebuilding the hotel (love this dumb lazyfuck, pendejo no dura nada✨💅✨)

He shows up singing and making his wholeass ✨entrances✨

Then proceeds to address Husk specifically, to either make fun of him, tease him, or mock him about him entertaining the thought of MAYBE just MAYBE having another break from Alastor (liberen a Husk de esta pinchi mísera 🗿) and Husk is obviously annoyed and having none of it, but looks also kinda resigned to it, which is understandable, he seems kinda desensitized to most of Alastor’s bs.

THEN one might think: “Oh, MAYBE Alastor would address Charlie next, cuz she looks happy to see him, and the whole bonding that they had in Cannibal town” 🤔

“MAYBE he will address Lucifer to make fun of him too, cuz he enjoys annoying him too (which tbh he does later)” 🤔

“MAYBE he will address Nifty, cuz just like Husk she is also his employee” 🤔

“Or MAYBE even Vaggie, he did have a couple of interactions with her, where he liked to annoyed her, and it could maybe be call back to when he told her “you’re not fully dressed without a smile” in the pilot

BUT NOPE

For SOME REASON, he address ANGEL, RIGHT AFTER MAKING FUN OF HUSK.

Angel. FRICKIN ANGEL. The guy he has like, the LEAST interactions with through the WHOLE SEASON, they barely talk in general, let alone one on one, I feel like the MOST they have talked one on one, is on the pilot and episode 1.

And Angel seems equally as surprise by this, Alastor is putting more of a “genuine smile” (as genuine as you can get with him) with Angel (very different to the mocking/teasing one he gave Husk) Angel seems surprise, but also smiles back, more of like a pleasantly surprise smile, but a smile nonetheless, Vaggie and Cherri also smile back at Alastor after this too, so yeah.

Then Alastor goes back to his new favorite hobby, annoying the shit out of Lucifer, which fair.

And Angel just gives him more of a genuine smile, but it’s understandable, most of his besties are just genuinely happy to see him back and after losing Pentious, it makes sense, even if it’s Alastor, “The Crazy psycho, Radio demon” it’s still someone they have spend time with and fought by their side to protect their home, it’s hard NOT to feel even slightly happy that he is back

(specially if you don’t know him as well as Husk, or if he doesn’t personally targets you, like he does with Lucifer)

And yeah, I don’t think I need to point out just how ANNOYED and disappointed Husk and Lucifer are that Alastor is back, cuz yeah.

But if it’s the case that Alastor would plant little by little a bit of doubt in Husk’s mind, about his new found friendship and maybe (hopefully, definitely ) future relationship that he has with Angel, THIS would be GREAT foreshadowing of it. 👀

This Toxic-fucked-up-platonic-dynamic that Husk and Alastor have is SO INTERESTING AND I NEED TO SEE MORE OF IT IN S2 🛐🛐🛐 and while we’re at it, more of content of the backstory of “Team Alastor” would be GREAT 💕🛐💕

{{Everyone talks about how the moment Valentino catches wind that Angel has feelings for Husk, he’s gonna try and convince Angel it’s too good to be true, but I don’t see nearly enough talk about Alastor absolutely gaslighting the hell out of Husk.

No money, no status, no control over his own soul. Alastor would spew the most subtly venomous barbs to convince Husk that he has nothing to offer Angel, and the worst part is, it would work. Husk’s greatest vice was greed. As an Overlord, he lived a life of excess, and anyone in his favor would want for nothing.

It would probably take so long to relearn that real love is about so much more than what you can give people, but Al’s gonna milk that insecurity for as long as it lasts.}}

[ashwhowrites]

A song fic based off of “In too deep” by Eminem

Eddie x Reader, Modern AU

18+ (smut, language, cheating, and mentions of toxic/abusive relationship)

"This could never work, " is what we said at first But whatever this is, it's working But we're in two different worlds and (yeah) I'm not your husband (nah), you ain't my girlfriend All I know is that (what?) When I'm with you, I'm a different person, yeah And I ain't never met a chick as perfect Girl, you're a ten, so here I am (yeah)

Eddie and Y/N knew what they were doing was wrong, so very wrong. But the heat, chemistry, and desire for each other was too hard to ignore. Every time he pulled out of her, drenched in sweat, and his cum dripping out of her abused cunt, he couldn't stop. They always end the night with a reminder that they can never work. It was agreed that it couldn't go farther than sex; it was just a dirty deed, and that was all. But sex led to late-night talks, which led to feelings. And now whatever they have going on is working, and it is working too well.

But they lived in two different worlds. She was a housewife. She spends her days cleaning up a house, making the bed where her husband and she lie every night, cooking dinner, and sitting at the table talking to each other about their day. And as for Eddie, he was in a loving, committed relationship. He was with a girl who was patiently waiting for the ring to be placed on her finger. A ring he couldn't bring himself to buy.

Because when he's with Y/N, he feels like a different person; he feels free, happy, and loved. He knew his girlfriend loved him, but the love Y/N made him feel turned his insides hot, made his ears ring, and his stomach burn. He'd never met someone like her. She was breathtaking, funny, smart, sexy, and everything more. She was classy, an angel at times, but when her clothes hit the floor, she turned into the devil. And he would gladly walk into hell for her. She was perfect and no one comapred.

Laying here with her again Thinking 'bout you She's asleep, you're texting me around two Crying face emoji, you say, "This is me without you" We're sneaking out to meet at cheap hotel rooms or Sex in the car, then I'll text you tomorrow Do I question it? Nah, no objection at all 'Cause both of us are still involved, so As I'm peelin' off, all I'm thinking 'bout is

His girlfriend was sound asleep under his arm. Her heart was pounding against his, her soft snores brushing against his neck, and her hand on his hip. And yet, here he was thinking about her. He heard his phone buzz from next to his pillow. He looked at the clock next to his bed; it read 2:00 am. He knew who it was. His heart skipped a beat as he reached for his phone. And sure enough, there was her name and a new message. He opened her text to see a crying emoji matched with "This is me without you." He felt himself smile and texted back the cheap hotel address they always met at. He quietly slipped out from under his girlfriend, careful not to wake her up. He threw on a hoodie and sweats and headed out to his car.

As he pulled up to the parking lot, he saw her sitting in her car. He pulled in next to her and unlocked his door. The second she hopped in, she was on him. His seat was thrown back as she was placed in his lap. He was already hard. His thoughts were on her and her body the whole way here. He moaned as her tongue massaged against his. The kiss was dirty and wet, and he fucking loved it. His girlfriend always wanted to make love and be a pillow princess. But, Y/N, she is capable of doing anything. He was a freak just like her, and he lived for it. He didn't have to be soft with her, and he loved how she took whatever she wanted from him. Her hand was digging under his sweats and began to pump his cock. He moaned at the feeling of her soft hands in a hard grip. "Look at you, baby. It's already so hard for me already. " She whispered in his ear.

Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn't care. He was hard as a rock before she even touched him. She would always have this effect on him. She never left his mind. The feeling of her wedding ring scraping against his neck turned him on even more. She was married to another man but was here begging for him to make a mess all over her hand. It made him hot. She rubbed him harder as she rose along his length, twisting her grip around his tip. His breath was picking up and the windows were fogging. He wanted to clench his eyes shut to hold off longer, but looking into her eyes made his stomach do flips. He could see how much lust and desire had taken root in them. With one last twist over his angry, red tip, he was spilling all over her hand. His head was thrown back against the seat, leaving his neck open for her to kiss, careful not to leave marks.

She knew she could never mark him the way she wanted. She would leave hickeys on every inch of skin if she could. His skin was so soft and inviting. It always tasted good, almost as good as his cum. She could see a faded purple mark below his ear. Her heart clenched, knowing it was from his girlfriend, because she was the one who could mark him. She was pulled out of her thoughts when Eddie moaned loudly, "Too much." He gasped out. She didn't realize she was still pumping his cock. She quickly yanked her hand away. His cum got stuck between the cracks of her fingers. She sucked them clean and whimpered at the taste. It was something she could never grow tired of. She would suck him dry if he let her. which she has.

Eddie was still gasping for air after his orgasm, and his cock was becoming hard as she sucked his cum off her fingers. He wrapped his hand in a clump of her hair and shoved her mouth against his. He grunted at the taste of him on her tongue. She was grinding helplessly against his lap. He could tell she was desperate. "Beg for it, baby. Go on, beg for my huge cock to slip into your wet cheating cunt. "

She felt herself drip at his words. She didn't know if she was a bad person for not caring that she was cheating on her husband. She knew Eddie was someone she loved, but not that she would ever tell him. "Please, Eddie, fuck me please." She had tears in her eyes as she begged.

Eddie wasn't one to act like she didn't have an effect on him. Even if she sat there silently, he'd still fuck her. I mean, that's what they both showed up for. He yanked down his sweats and boxers down to his ankles. She wiggled out of her tiny shorts and threw her panties somewhere in the car. "Gotta make sure you're wet for me," he teased. They both knew she was always soaked for him, but she didn't mind Eddie shoving his fingers knuckle deep into her pussy.

"Oh baby, you are soaked. My poor pretty girl. You just need some attention, huh?  That deadbeat husband of yours doesn't fuck my pussy, does he?" He asked, jealousy clear in his voice. He knew they had to have sex and he was guilty of doing it with his girlfriend. But he hated knowing he wasn't the only one that saw her this way. But he knew she would always tell him what he wanted to hear, "Never. On..onl...only for you. " That was all she could get out. His fingers were fucking her at a rapid pace. If you canceled out her loud moans, you could hear her cunt sucking his fingers in, wet sounds bouncing off the fogged windows.

Eddie was growing impatient. He wanted her now. He yanked his fingers free and shoved them far into her mouth. He could feel them hit the back of her throat. His mind flashed to the many times his cock was deep in her throat as she choked and gagged.

With his fingers deep in her throat, he pushed his cock inside her, bottoming out right away. She gasped at the stretch and whimpered as he yanked his fingers out of her mouth and moved her hips up and down so fast. "Fuck Eddie," she moaned. She started bouncing on his lap, trying to meet his thrusts. Even with his help, lifting her hips up and down, she could not go as fast. He was out of control. She could feel his balls smacking against her as he thrust up fast and hard. He was moaning in her ear. Dirty words and grunts. She could not form any words at this point. She was so cock drunk, she couldn't feel anything but his cock deep inside her. She never wanted to feel anything different.

"Har...harder...please." She barely gasped out loud. Eddie knew exactly what she wanted. His ring-filled hand went straight to her throat, clenching tight enough to cut off a slight passage of air. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her stomach felt like it was on fire. His free hand went down to her clit. His thumb was pressing hard and rubbing fast. He needed her to come first.

"Cum for me, baby, and soak my cock with your cum." With that final push, his thumb was working wonders on her clit, his hand on her throat. She was done for. Her back arched as she felt her insides snap. Her walls clenched around him hard and tight. "I'm cumming!" she yelled as she rocked against him. His hand left her throat, allowing her to gasp for much needed air. He began to slow on her clit, not wanting to overstimulate her. With his free hand, he held her cheek. He loved nothing more than watching as she orgasmed. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth opened wide, and her covered tits were shoved in his face as her back arched. Just looking at her caused his orgasm to come faster.

"Fuck baby, I need to cum. Can I fill you up please?" He begged, knowing that his cumming in her was a given. He loved it and she loved it. It was wrong, but he loved knowing she would go home with his cum dripping out of her when she crawled back into her bed with him.

"Cum in me, Eddie, Show him who I belong to." That was all he needed. His orgasm washed over him, hard. His thighs shook, and his balls were heavy with his cum waiting to be emptied. His arms were wrapped around her and he thrust up sloppily. His face mushed between her breasts, and he inhaled her scent. His cum was shooting into her, coating her walls with his hot slick of cum. He didn't pull out, he never did right away. He loves the feeling of him going soft inside her. Just being there in each other's arms, feeling their bodies calming down from the rush.

As she got back in her car and pulled off, he was looking forward to texting her tomorrow; no objections from either side. As he peeled off to head back home to her, he saw Y/N’s panties sitting in his backseat, all he could think about was

I'm not happy here (nah) With her Rather have you (yeah) Rather have me too 'Cause you're not happy there (you're not happy there) With him Rather have me (I know, but) We just in too deep (I'm in way too deep)

He knew he wasn't happy with his girlfriend anymore. He knew, no matter what, he would rather be with Y/N at any moment of the day. Eddie also knew Y/N felt the same. She wasn't happy with her husband. He treated her like shit, left hand prints on her cheeks and bruised her wrists. He knew she'd rather be with him. But now they are in too deep. He was in way too deep.

You're laying there with him, thinking 'bout me He's asleep, you say, let's meet around three You went to leave the house, he caught you sneaking out Now he's freaking out You thought he was sleepin' soundly, woah You say you're going for a drive, you don't question him When he stumbles in, like, "Where the fuck you've been?" Then you pump his ear with what he wants to hear Tell him you love him, yeah, wipe each other's tears

She lay as far away from her husband as she could. She hated feeling his touch, especially when she thought about Eddie. She thought of him every night. Knowing her husband was sound asleep, she went to grab her phone. She sent her usual text to Eddie and rolled out of bed. 

As she had her hand on the doorknob, a voice came from behind her, saying, "Where are you going?" A lie was quick on her tongue, "Just going for a drive."

"A drive every night this week?" She went frozen. He was catching on. She thought he was dead asleep, never knowing she was leaving before he woke up. Then the screaming match began. She never questioned him when he came home drunk smelling of different liquors and perfumes. But she could sense the fight was getting out of hand. She feared what would come next if she didn't surrender. So she said everything he wanted to hear. That she only loved him, and nothing was going on. They wiped each other's tears and headed back to bed. He yanked her close in bed, caging her in. She couldn't reach her phone to text Eddie. She cried herself to sleep, wishing she was in his arms instead.

And Eddie waited and waited in that parking lot.

But it's been a couple years since we been doin' dirt You or my girl, don't wanna see either of you get hurt But now the lines are getting super blurred Can't tell if I'm cheating on her with you or cheating on you with her But really, nobody's at fault, can't help who you love Hope they don't ever hear us talk 'Cause we both are getting sloppy Probably subconsciously part of me's hoping we get caught 'cause

Eddie knew he was falling hard when he feared hurting either of them. He knew his girlfriend would be crushed if she ever found out, and he knew Y/N was falling for him too. The lines are getting too blurry. He couldn't tell anymore if he was cheating on his girlfriend with Y/N or Y/N with his girlfriend. But he couldn't help who he fell in love with. He prayed his girlfriend or her husband would not overhear them talking. Eddie knew they were getting too sloppy, sneaking phone calls when they couldn't meet. not bothering to hide the caller ID.

But a part of Eddie wanted to be caught. He wanted his girlfriend to read his texts, listen to his calls, and find Y/N's panties in the back of his car. He wanted an out.

I'm not happy here (nah) With her Rather have you (yeah) Rather have me too 'Cause you're not happy there (you're not happy there) With him Rather have me (I know, but) We just in too deep (I'm in way too deep)

We're laying here with them, thinking 'bout us 'Cause now when we get home, we get jealous Of each other being someone else's Call us Long John Silver's 'cause we selfish But I just wanna see ya Don't care if it's at the Ritz or Motel 6 If I'm there with ya, rich or poor When I'm laying here with ya, it could be the kitchen floor I could stay in bed with ya starin' at ya 'til the morn'

I just wanna be your secret lover, yeah I'd rather share ya than to not have you at all So once a year or twice a month I'm here if you want it Yeah, I'm open season And I'm always game, so keep it a hundred, dear, haha

Y/N laid in bed seething at her texts. Her husband was out on a business trip, so she was alone, perfect for Eddie to sneak over and be wrapped in it for hours. But his reply of "Cant this weekend, date tonight with the parents :( " Had her body been heated with jealousy? She knew she had no right to be upset; he had a girlfriend. He was technically not hers, but that didn't take away the sting. She didn't bother to answer, leaving him on read. She hated that he was someone else's, that she couldn't have him all to herself. That she couldn't go on dates with him, meet his family, have him for the holidays, and love him. With tears in her eyes and a heavy heart, her head hit the pillow. She didn't bother to plug her phone in that night. She was so damn selfish.

 Eddie's heart was beating as she didn't answer. He could feel the anger from his message stating "read." He knew she was pissed, and he felt guilty. He shouldn't feel guilty sitting here with his girlfriend's parents for dinner. He shouldn't be wishing he was with Y/N instead. He knew he'd rather be dancing in the kitchen, twirling Y/N's in his arms, but here he was on his third beer as his girlfriend talked to her parents. Eddie sent countless messages, but none were answered.

By the next weekend, Eddie's girlfriend had her own business trip. Eddie was quick to call Y/N but got no reply. He sent a quick message about the good news. His smile turned down fast, and his stomach was sour when the message read, "He surprised me with a getaway in Florida. Be back Monday <3 " He felt sick. Anger burned through his body and jealousy nested in his heart. He had no right to be upset; she was married. She was allowed to go on a fucking trip with her husband. He felt the need to throw up as his mind played images he wished he didn't have to see. images of her kissing her husband, his hands on her skin, his lips tasting her skin, and marking her in ways Eddie wished he could. He was so damn selfish.

Luckily, their schedules matched up. And they were in the parking lot again, but this time cuddled in the back seat. His face was creased with a grin. "You know, I just always want to see you. I don't care if it's at the Ritz or a motel. I'd be with you no matter what, rich or poor. Every time I'm lying here with you, it doesn't matter where. It could be the kitchen floor. I could stay in bed with you and just stare at you until the morning. I just want to be your secret lover. I'd rather share you with him than not have you at all. Just know I'm always open season and I'll keep it real with you forever. " Her eyes watered at his secret. A fast kiss was smashed into his lips and he groaned at her taste. This is exactly where he wanted to be.

'Cause we could never be Each other's everything's You got a wedding ring So it's him instead of me But I'll be your second string Now and forever because I'm not happy here (nah) With her Rather have you (yeah) Rather have me too 'Cause you're not happy there (you're not happy there) With him Rather have me (I know, but) We just in too deep (I'm in way too deep)

It was a painful reminder that they could never be each other's everything. Her wedding rings shine as a reminder that it'll be him and never Eddie. But he had no problem being her second string. For as long as she wanted him, he would stay forever. because he's not happy with his girlfriend and Y/N isn't happy with her husband. They would rather have each other, but now they are in too deep.

~~~~~

I am in love with how this turned out! If you guys love it as much as me, please let me know! I kinda want to do a part 2 so let me know if you would want that :)

[taechaos]

A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

[sanzu-sanzu-sanzu]

songs about toxic people 7*

Sanzu Haruchiyo X Reader

Summary: In which you are Bonten’s No. 2 and Sanzu is No. 3. Almost ten years of being stuck working together means you’re both bound to pick up on each other’s idiosyncrasies, yeah?

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*IMPORTANT NOTE: this is more like an interlude/bonus chapter actually centering more on misc bonten x reader Gen! interactions. it still ties in with the whole story, it’s just there’s less to zero sanzu in this one cus the focus will be more on the other bonten haha, so if you’re here exclusively for sanzu x reader, you may skip this if you like! 😬  

it’s just i got these headcanons that idk what to do with and also they are somewhat short 😭

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chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6

chapter 7: We may not be a perfect family but we love each other (until we don’t) - koko

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Koko thinks of cats when he thinks of you; partly from the circumstances of your first meeting, partly ‘cause of the way you sort of simply glide in and out of rooms quietly with the stealth and fluidity of one.

(Although Sanzu had insisted he thought more of ghosts and wraiths, a comment which Koko only made light of even though he wasn’t wrong.)

She even kinda fights like a feline, he’d told Inupi one time all those years ago, as he thought of the way your lithe and minimal movements were always able to take bigger guys down along with the quiet ferocity to match.

Maybe she learns from all the cats back in the shrine, Inupi responded—a joke, essentially, in his own terms. Koko suppressed a smile: cat and dog, you and her, maybe that’s why you two get along so well went his own, sad attempt at humor, because you and your second-in-command were obviously very close and very unlike cats and dogs. The joke, however, sadly did not seem to land, and Inupi’s forehead only creased, his expression dumbfounded.

That’s not how it works.

Koko never forgets the day you were first introduced by Mikey. It’s at the back of Toman’s abandoned shrine, at the edge of the thick forest surrounding the area, that their new leader had said they’ll be meeting Black Dragon’s temporary captain. He never specified what anyone would be doing in the forest at this hour in the afternoon, and neither him nor Inupi had asked, but then there you were: in your bare feet and in your school uniform, attempting to move a big pot of plant from one spot of land to another, your expression almost annoyed. (At the pot, most likely, which did not seem to budge.)

Mikey called your attention still a few meters afar:

“Hey. Whatcha up to—”

in a tone that very clearly did not seem to intend to place whatever you were up to above this particular Toman business at the moment, so really, it would not have made any difference whether you answered or not. Which you didn’t, only glancing at your president once—not with the angry expression, at least—before continuing with your ordeal.

The pot nudged just a tiny bit.

Only when Mikey finally stopped right in front of you and you noticed Koko’s and Inupi’s figures behind him did you finally stand straight, looking at Mikey quizzically. “What’s up?” Quick nods to Inupi and him. “Hello.”

Mikey briefly introduced all of you and proceeded to explain that you were to be formally placed as the Black Dragon’s new captain today, to which your eyes slightly widened.

“Oh, I thought you said tomorrow.”

Mikey hesitated at first but then shrugged. “Hm, they came here already today so I thought might as well. Come on, it’ll be quick.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and then to his two quiet companions but then so agreed anyway, and as Mikey ushered you in front nobody else aside from Koko seemed to notice your lack of shoes. You’d only taken a few steps ahead when you tugged at the sleeve of Mikey’s coat, making him pause.

“I don’t have my Toman jacket,” which was obvious but was not what Koko was expecting for you to say, if he were to be honest.

Mikey looked at you blankly. “Well, where is it?”

“Well, something happened to it,” was your only vague response, but then you turned your head to where you just came from making all three boys follow suit. On a wooden bench slightly obscured by the plants were a family of cats consisting of a mother and her kittens, all sleeping peacefully in a cozy pile on top of your balled up Toman jacket.

“Oh. Okay.” Mikey only nodded like he completely understood. Without thinking about it twice, Sano Manjiro, Tokyo Manji gang’s No. 1—feared around the streets of Tokyo, bowed to no one and stepped over everyone—took off his billowing Toman coat and draped it over your shoulders. “Here, you can borrow mine,” he simply said. “I mean, you gotta look the part.”

Your mouth stretched into a grin.

Beside him, Inupi gave Koko a quick, wordless glance accompanied by that tiny, upward curve on the corner of his mouth that anyone else could’ve missed. Inupi rarely smiled at anything anymore those days—perhaps one of the reasons why this singular, initial meeting had stuck in his mind all these years. It’s one of those memories Koko always thought he could probably live without, occupying a quiet little corner in his mind which, frankly, a much more practical or life-changing memory could have occupied, if it were up to him. But then there you were with your cats and your air of schoolgirl abandon making Inupi smile, an information that he simply didn’t know what to do about.

“Alright, boss. But please, no speeches.”

This made Mikey laugh. “Can’t promise you that, I’m sorry.” It’s only after a few more steps that Mikey did finally notice your bare feet.

“Where the hell are your shoes?”

“Oh, they got wet,” you quietly said. “I was playing with the cats…” and three pairs of eyes stared at you like it wasn’t enough of an answer. “With a hose. Manjiro, I was watering the plants.”

And so you stood atop the shrine steps while addressing the men from Black Dragons, your feet bare and covered in scratches and the Toman president’s much bigger coat over your shoulders. Nobody questioned the absence of shoes—at least not out loud—not with your leader Manjiro right by your side, in his flip flops holding a half-eaten taiyaki in one hand.

The memory comes unannounced in snips and pieces some years later as another Bonten meeting ends. There’s various movements around the table by now, but then Koko catches your undivided staring as you sat across from him, your chin propped up against one hand. He ignores you for a short while as he fixes his things, until he finally decides to look up.

“Anything wrong?”

You suddenly purse your lips in a small smile amidst the gloomy and rigid air of mid-morning Monday meetings and for a moment, it’s as if Koko is thinking of another memory.

“I just realized you kinda look like my Mr. Kaku,” is all you say. The little remark makes not-your Kakucho look up from the document he’s reading without really turning his head, while Rindou who is seated beside you squints—in curiosity or amusement, Koko can’t tell. From his own right side, Takeomi is slowly angling his head as if meaning to take a better look at Koko behind his curtain of silver hair.

Mr. Kaku, of course, is your pet cat, the one with the smooth silver fur that you’d rescued from an abandoned site during an out-of-town business trip some months ago. You and your unimaginative pet naming sense landed on “Mr. Kaku,” in honor of your then-partner Kakucho who had volunteered to keep the cat inside his bag thru the doors of the hotel that didn’t allow pets. But he looks nothing like Kaku, Manjiro had quipped, earning a few grunts of approval from your ever-biased circle, but you couldn’t have been bothered so you stuck with the name.

Koko is quick to decipher that in your-speak, cat comparisons are more or less compliments and never a form of insult—not that in your mid-20s, you all haven’t already gotten above petty verbal affronts, after all. So he humors you, eyes now back to his things but with his attention still on the matter at hand. “What, is it the hair?”

“Yeah, it’s the hair,” Rindou says before you can answer, his head lolling lazily on one shoulder. “Can’t believe no one had noticed before.”

“And the eyes,” you simply nod. “They both got these nice, sharp eyes.”

Would you have named him Mr. Koko if you thought he resembled Kokonoi before? is the one lingering question that none of the men around you bother to ask.

It’s only a couple of weeks later, after another Bonten meeting, when Koko hands you a souvenir from his weekend business trip: a red cat collar with a customized pendant, a tiny enamel engraving of your Bonten tattoo. The pendant is black on one side and gold on the other, and the small gasp you let out makes every head in the room turn—the almost unfamiliar, genuine sound of delight thawing the usual morning’s stern atmosphere.

“There’s a shop right across the hotel where they make rush engravings like that.” Koko is saying casually like it’s no big deal, but he sees the expression on your face and he can’t help but grin. “Thought Mr. Kaku might like it.”

Your eyes perk up at the mention of ‘Mr. Kaku’ like Koko is the first person to ever acknowledge that Mr. Kaku doesn’t need to be named anything else apart from ‘Mr. Kaku.’ “Oh, it’s perfect, Koko. I’ll send you pictures once I make him wear it,” you say, your attention instantly back to your hands, choosing to ignore his ‘I think just one picture might be enough.’

From the other end of the room, Sanzu is making his way towards the door. “Congratulations,” he smirks as he passes by behind you, quirking one eyebrow up at Koko. “Now she won’t be shutting up about it all weekend,” because Sanzu will be spending the next three days with you over in another city to conduct business with another drug scion, of course.

Across the table, Kakucho only sighs before shaking his head. “I still wish you could’ve picked a better name for your cat,” he says—a valid complaint, Koko thinks bemusedly, now that your own Mr. Kaku looks more like a feline version of himself.

chapter 8 >

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this one goes out to my closest friends the ones who make me feel less alien

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[love-little-lotte]

10 Musical Theatre Songs I Listen To When I'm Sad

Here I am again with this type of list that no one really asked for. I am torturously bored and I need to do something... a bit productive in my spare time. I can't bear to watch another movie or TV show 10 hours straight. My eyes (and lower back) are literally begging me to stop. (They're still suffering as I write this in my very dark room, but ah well, at least I get to exercise my writing.)

Anyway, this list is going to be all about the show tunes I listen to when I'm feeling a bit under the weather or overwhelmed. There are times when I wake up and just feel so sad and I absolutely have no energy to do anything. When I feel this way, I usually just spend the entire morning in bed, drowning myself with music until I feel a bit better. The following songs are a huge part of me getting over my melancholia.

For the record, I can't give reassurance that these songs will make you feel okay as I do. Sometimes, I come up with a whole different meaning to a song because I interpret it differently from the original story. It's always up to you how you perceive a song.

(Disclaimer: I arranged these songs randomly to avoid favoritism, so this is not exactly a "ranking" list.)

1. I Miss the Mountains — Next to Normal

Next to Normal is such a beautiful musical, and it's definitely part of my Top 5. Diana is one of the most complex characters in this show, and she sings this gorgeous, thoughtful song during one of her vulnerable moments. In this song, she reminisces her life before her medications and how it only made her feel less of herself.

I speak for everyone when I say that, every so often, we lose sight of who we are. Whenever I listen to this song, I ponder on moments from the past, like Diana. I'm reminded of the person who I was before, even though it's unhealthy to wallow too much with regret about instances from the past. Nevertheless, it is important to address your sadness to make yourself feel better. You need to feel these emotions before deciding to pull yourself together, even if that means confronting past experiences. You can learn from them, so you won't make the same mistakes again.

Most memorable lyrics: I miss the dizzy heights / All the manic, magic days / And the dark, depressing nights

2. Breathe — In The Heights

One of my all-time favorite songs. In In The Heights, Nina has hit rock bottom, dropping out of college because of too much pressure. She hasn't told anyone, and she's worried about what everyone, especially her parents, would think.

The song is not exactly what you call "reassuring." After all, for most of the song, Nina recalls how a lot of people believe in her, how she was "the one who made it out," but now she's returning as a failure. However, this song could also be seen differently: despite the intensity of our problems, it's nice to just breathe. Sometimes, things go beyond our control, and that's fine. All we have to do is to look the problem right in the eye, breathe, and overcome it as best as we can.

Also, it's nice to try and belt your problems away with this song.

Most memorable lyrics: Mira, Nina (hey) / No me preocupo por ella (they're not worried about me) / Mira, allí esta nuestra estrella / They are all counting on me to succeed

3. The Story Goes On — Baby

Yeah, I know this song seems a bit out of place in comparison to the rest of the songs in this list. The song is from Baby, and it's sung by Lizzie as a first act closer. After feeling her baby's first kick while pregnant, the realization of being a mother hits her hard. She sings of her hopes and dreams for her baby in this very beautiful (and belt-y) song.

As a single person who doesn't want to have kids (well, right now, at least), I don't know why this song means so much to me. Maybe because it has such a very hopeful message: that there is something greater destined for us in the future. While Lizzie revels in her newfound love for her unborn baby, I revel in the fact that whatever I'm facing right now, this too shall pass, and my future will be better. I may have given the song my own interpretation, but somehow, it works for me.

Most memorable lyrics: And now I can see the chain extending / My child is next in a line that has no ending / And here am I feeling life that her child will feel / When I'm long gone

4. A Soft Place to Land — Waitress

While I usually bawl my eyes out during "She Used to be Mine," this song from Waitress also does its job of making me tear up. This is one of the subdued moments in the story, where Jenna sings about a better life while Becky and Dawn support her. The song doesn't really have a lot of deep lyrics like the more popular eleven o'clock number, but this song is like a piece of advice to stay on dreaming, no matter what happens.

It's tough when life decides to throw some crap on your way. You might stumble before you get up again. But you can always count on your own thoughts and dreams to help you keep going. And with a solid support system through family or friends, you can always be ready to take on anything.

Most memorable lyrics: When your breaking point's all that you have / A dream is a soft place to land

5. Being Alive — Company

With its main theme about adult relationships, Company tells the story of Robert — also affectionately known as Bobby — and his troubles with commitment. Most of his friends are in relationships, maybe not ideally happy. After getting a glimpse of his friends' love lives, in this stirring song almost at the end of the show, Robert sings about choosing to be "alive" rather than "alone."

While the song in the musical leans more to romantic relationships, I sometimes listen in a slightly different manner. Even though most of the time I prefer my own company, it's something else when you get to spend your happiness with the people you love. When you're sad and hurting, you might want to bottle everything up. But this song makes me realize that it's okay to open up to the ones you love. You don't have to go through life alone. After all, you only truly feel alive in the company of your loved ones.

Most memorable lyrics: But alone / Is alone / Not alive

6. Corner of the Sky — Pippin

Prepare your jazz hands because next up is this very hopeful and beautiful song from Pippin. Also, let me just say that this song is up there with my all-time favorites and makes me feel better, no matter what. It's that good. Anyway, this song serves as Pippin's "I Want" song, the one that sets out his story. With this, Pippin revels in wanting to find his destiny and the meaning of his life.

When sadness so great engulfs me to the point I feel utterly useless, I try to focus on things that I want to achieve in the future. I muster every ounce of hope and positivity that I could to fight the blues away. It's tough, sure, and maybe it's sort of delusional, but it helps to know that I'm the only one who can control my fate. Just like Pippin, I'm in search of better days.

Most memorable lyrics: I've got to be where my spirit can run free / Got to find my corner of the sky

7. Sonya Alone — Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812

Sonya is one of my favorite characters in musical theatre. She's sweet, caring, and will definitely not hesitate to put you first. In Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812, Sonya finds out her best friend's grave secret and sings this captivating song. She wants to help her, even if it might mean losing her trust.

Now, I have a way extravagant interpretation of this song. When I listen to this song when I'm sad, in my head, I'm Sonya, and I'm singing this to myself — or at least, my sad self. There are many times in our lives when we don't feel like ourselves, that we hate the person we've become. And when this happens, we realize that we are the only ones who can help ourselves. At the end of the day, despite the comfort of people all around us, we're left with our own thoughts and feelings. We are our own friends. This song is sort of my reconciliation to my true self. Try listening to the words of this song as a way of comforting yourself; it truly might help.

Most memorable lyrics: I will protect your name and your heart / Because I miss my friend

8. Answer Me — The Band's Visit

Near the end of The Band's Visit, there's a beautiful, little song sung by a minor character. He's referred to as the "Telephone Guy." He sings to his lover on the payphone, hoping she would answer him. And when she does, the townspeople and musicians sing over their longings as well.

The song is so simple, but such a tearjerker. When I first listened to this, my heart completely broke, and I don't even know the context. All I know is there's this person, singing about yearning and heartaches. Honestly, I'm not even sure if I could put to words what I feel the song means to me. There's just so many things to love about it: the simplicity of the lyrics, the way everyone slowly joining in the song, the helplessness of asking for somebody to listen to you.

Most memorable lyrics: Are you there? / Are you there? / Will you answer me?

9. Those You've Known — Spring Awakening

(TW: mention of suicide) This part in Spring Awakening never fails to send a chill up to my spine. Everything from the choreography down to the lyrics is so powerful and thrilling. When Melchior realizes that Wendla has died, he becomes distraught, blaming himself for her death and Moritz's, and decides to take his own life. The spirits of Moritz and Wendla then appear to offer consolation and urge him to carry on. In the end, he decides to continue living and promises not to forget his friends.

It's one of the darkest moments in the musical, and that says a lot. But, at the same time, it's also very heartening to watch Melchior overcome his dark thoughts with the help of Moritz and Wendla beyond the grave. This song is a reminder that as humans, we make a lot of mistakes but we don't let this defeat us. Yes, we carry a lot of guilt from our past experiences, but we won't forget them. Instead, we learn from them, so we don't have to repeat them again.

Most memorable lyrics: Now they'll walk on my arm through the distant night / And I won't let them stray from my heart / Through the wind, through the dark, through the winter light / I will read all their dreams to the stars

10. No One Is Alone — Into the Woods

I mean, duh! This is like the ultimate musical theatre comfort song. I can't tell you exactly how many times I listened to this song during the pandemic. Into the Woods is the musical retelling of fairytales we've known in our childhood. This song, which is one of the show's popular ones that even non-theatre people can recognize, is sung by Cinderella, Little Red, Jack, and The Baker. At this point, they are the only ones left; Little Red and Jack are despairing over their losses, while Cinderella and The Baker respectively comfort them.

The title is already self-explanatory: it's an assurance that whatever problems life gives you, you are not going through it alone. Someone is always on your side. These days, it's easy to feel that you are fighting your battles on your own. Just remember that wherever you are, there are still people who love and support you.

Most memorable lyrics: Witches can be right / Giants can be good / You decide what's right / You decide what's good / Just remember (just remember) / Someone is on your side (our side, our side)

____

There you have it: the songs that I love listening to when I'm down. If you're still reading at this point, then I just want to say thank you for sticking with me and my rambles. The next time you feel sad, you can try giving these songs a chance. You never know, you might feel a little bit better.

[sunjaesol]

serendipitous encounters

juke | human au | fluff

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

"I think I met my soulmate!" Luke shouted as he barrelled through the front door, announcing his presence.

Alex, cuddled up with Willie, groaned from his place on the couch. "Not this again. Luke, soulmates do not exist!"

"Well, I'm curious," Willie joked. "What happened?"

Bouncing through the small living space, he propped himself on the coffee table. His eager lips spouted everything he knew so far. "Her name's Julie and she's beautiful and she drinks lattes with caramel syrup."

The two boys blinked at each other, an amused smile growing on Willie as the scowl deepened for Alex. Yeesh. How did these two work?

The blonde tried keeping composure. "You think... you met... the person you want to spend the rest of your life with... in a coffee shop?"

Luke nodded. What was his point?

Luckily, Willie was on his side. "Did you talk to her?"

Sighing, he slumped to the floor. "No. But I'm telling you, it's her."

"This oddly feels like that Zooey Deschanel movie," Alex mused.

"No! She's not some fantasy! She-I can't explain it." Dreamily looking up at the ceiling, he added. "She's it. I'm calling it."

"I think you're horny," Alex deadpanned. Willie snickered.

He rolled his eyes and swatted their legs. "Very cool, you guys.”

The doorbell rang. Jumping up and saving himself from further embarrassment, Luke went to open it.

And it was her. Holy shit.

She smiled up at him, holding up his trusty songbook.

"Hello. You left this journal on your table at Starbucks? It has your address inside."

Gobsmacked, Luke stared at her. Holy fucking shit. Because of his whole daydream about her in Starbucks, he forgot his book and then she took it upon herself to find the rightful owner. That was fate, right? Take that, Alex!

Stammering vowels, he plucked it from her grasp and let out a breathy laugh.

"Y-Yeah, thanks, that's- yup."

An amused smile pulled on her lips, nodding. "No problem. Have a nice day!"

Her goodbye snapped him out of his stupor, calling out for her with a raised hand.

"Wait! I didn't catch your name!"

She turned around, the girl looking so foreign in the grimy hallway of the apartment complex.

"Why do you need my name?"

Cause he knew it already and didn't want to seem like a creep.

He shrugged. "I want to thank you."

"It's Julie," she said after a beat.

"Thank you, Julie." His grin must've been comically wide, heart beating a mile a minute as he was still convinced she was his freaking soulmate.

And then she left. He was certain he'd see her again. In a non creepy way, that was.

— — — — — —

It was wholly coincidental once more. 

It was an early Sunday morning, Luke donned in sweatpants and a ratty cut-off and bedhead, as he meandered in the the shop of a tailor. Reggie owed him for this. 

The bassist loved buying vintage clothing, but never stuff that quite fit him. Hence, a tailor. His name was Peter and basically Reg’s best friend at this point, based on the disappointed look the man gave Luke as he handed him the the slip. He could hear the question on his tongue - “Where’s Reggie?” - and was happy when he didn’t ask. 

One, cause that was fucking rude. 

Two, cause Reg was currently fighting for an exclusive comic book on the other side of Los Angeles with a hurdle of other nerds. 

As Peter was sifting through the clothing racks, searching the order, the bell jingled behind him. 

“Oh, Journal Boy?”

He stilled. Holy shit. 

Whirling around, he came face to face with Julie. Just as beautiful as a week ago; maybe even more disarming in sandals and her curly hair up in a messy bun.

“Hi,” he breathed, unsure if he wasn’t just imagining her. It was a pretty hot day. It could easily be a sun stroke. 

Her smile widened. She was probably amused by his goofy behaviour, but he couldn’t help it. What were the odds he’d see her again, in a different location, this early after the first encounter? What was the statistical probability of meeting his soulmate twice? 

Before he could say anything else, Peter appeared from his rack and placed a leather jacket on the counter. Their attention diverted, Luke couldn’t help but feel heat travel up his back from having her so near. 

— — — — — —

No, he didn't want to go to silent disco.

Alas, Willie and Alex were that quirky type of couple that always liked to do the weirdest shit, including the most impersonal activity ever: a silent fucking disco.

They told him to bring a date, as Reggie was bringing his Tinder match Kayla, but he wasn't feeling it. One, because he still couldn't believe he saw Julie again at the tailor-

("It's Luke, by the way," he added.

She smiled and tasted the name. "Luke. Haven't lost your journal again?"

His name sounded heavenly on her tongue. Keeping the blush at bay, he nodded with a grin. "Yup. Uh-"

And then the man came back with her stuff, and that was that.)

-two, cause he wanted to win from Alex. Soulmates did exist and he hadn't lost hope it was her.

So there he was, in some old factory turned disco, with hundreds of idiots wearing headphones as they danced in a frenzy to whatever song was playing. The whole point of art - connection - was lost. Luke wanted to die.

Until he saw Julie from across the space. Again. And she saw him.

They smiled and waved and suddenly, this whole thing wasn't so bad anymore.

— — — — — —

There were about a 130,000 people living in East LA. It had sprawling neighbourhoods and hundreds of communities and subways that connected it to the other parts of LA. She could’ve been anywhere. 

And yet, he found her again. 

Even though he was still sticking to his guns that Julie was someone special, he also had his own needs. Which was how he found himself slipping out of a redhead’s bed at seven in the morning, dazed from being in an unknown place, and pulling his clothes back on. He was pretty sure her name was Meredith, though that could also just be entirely false. It was a weird, albeit good night. 

She mumbled in her pillow he could let himself out, waving half-heartedly and rolling on her side. 

Softly closing the door behind him and cracking the knots in his neck, he didn’t notice how he bumped into a person. 

Into Julie. 

His eyes widened in shock, the two letting out a surprised yelp. Her hand clutched her chest and took a step back. 

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “Sorry!”

Her mouth opened and closed in confusion, about to say something, when her gaze trailed past him to the apartment he just left. She cleared up. 

“Meredith? Good choice, she’s nice.”

Luke flushed red. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? 

Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, he drawled, “Uh, yeah... what’re you doing here?”

It was then that he noticed she had athletic wear on, duffle bag around her shoulder and keys dangling between her fingers. She confirmed his suspicions when she replied. 

“I, uh, live here.” She laughed. “So... have a nice rest of the day?”  

He wanted to say a lot. He wanted to ask if she wanted to grab breakfast, that Meredith wasn’t his girlfriend, that he had this crazy feeling they were always meant to meet - again and again and again ‘til they got it right. 

But he couldn’t. He’d sound insane. Hell, it was insane. Instead, he wished her a nice day as well and scurried out the hallway. He didn’t look back, but he did wonder if he was imagining he felt her eyes on his back. 

— — — — — —

Luke was typing on his laptop, the hustle and bustle of Starbucks at three in the afternoon and the methodical tap tap tap of the keys lulling him into a fast-paced trance. As always, he procrastinated some work for Pitchfork and had to get it done in two hours or else his boss would be yelling in his emails.

The bell jingled, Luke looking up automatically and almost rolling his eyes at the sight of her. This was getting insane.

Julie saw him too, changing her course from the register to his round table with a confused grimace twisting her features. As always, she looked pretty; the girl never looked bad and it was kind of messing with his head.

"Alright, fess up," she exclaimed, slipping into the seat opposite of him. "Are you stalking me?"

He snorted and leaned forward with a wry grin. "I can ask the same about you."

Her lips pursed, assessing him for a beat. With a sigh, she mellowed down. "I guess... we live in the same neighbourhood..."

"Still kinda crazy though," he mused. "East L.A. is big."

She nodded, pensive, and then looked over her shoulder to the menu board. "Is it okay if... I sit with you? I was going to grab a latte to go, but since you're here..."

But since you're here - rang in his ears, a careful smile blooming on his lips. Fuck, he really needed to work, but Julie wanted to sit with him, hang with him, be friends with him, outside of all the coincidental meetings they've had.

He wouldn't call it a date yet. He wanted to properly ask her when that day came.

"Sure," he mumbled, biting down the smile from becoming bigger.

His reply satisfied her, the tendrils dancing around her bright eyes as she matched his smile and stood up to make an order.

— — — — — —

Weeks passed with quick meetings here and there, Julie slowly bleeding into his life with laughs and smiles and whirlwind stories about her life. She was always on the go, always bright-eyed and easily matching his energy. He knew his enthusiasm could put people off, but she was never taken aback.

Wit against wit. Snark against snark. A dumb joke met with an amused roll of the eye. It worked. For a while, he even settled on the fact that hey, they might be platonic soulmates. Julie was a great friends and sometimes he felt his emotions fleeting. If they remained friends, he'd be perfectly content.

But then she closed gaps and barriers that had pointedly been kept before. After they got boba, her hand wrapped around his bicep, stretched on her tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. Before he could register it, she was back on her feet waving him goodbye. Luke had a dopey look on his face for the rest of the day.

She kept up cheek kisses, he let his warm embraces linger, their short hangouts turned into hours.

Then one night, she kissed his cheek after they got ramen and he shifted his face 'til their noses brushed. Julie held her breath. Tentatively, their fingers curled together - the simple touch sparking lightning up his arm.

"Is it weird that I've dreamed about you?" he asked, cautious, looking at their joined hands.

Luke wanted to tell her about his initial gut feeling; that he saw her and he knew. But it was too insane and he didn't want to scare her off. But he knew. He's always known.

"No..." Her mouth ghosted his. "I've dreamed about you too."

Luke closed the little space between them, lips slanting together and instantly deepening as one hand came up to cradle her cheek. His heart was bursting with euphoria. It felt as if his body sighed in relief, like it had finally come home. And then he did: he sighed and grinned and giggled when her arms wrapped around his neck.

Oh, man... he might already love her.

— — — — — —

Nothing definite happened afterwards. Though this is what he wanted, he felt weird confirming their relationship when he had always somehow ‘known.’ It had to come from her side, the more level-headed person in this situation. 

So, it was casual, even though he was anything but casual. 

It was pretty great though, walking past Meredith’s door towards Julie’s, having her yank him inside and kiss him like she’d been waiting for years. Kissing Julie was fucking heaven. 

Besides that, they were the same Luke and Julie as before. They got boba or ramen or any new spot that opened up like weeds. She listened to new music with him, sharing earbuds, for his Pitchfork articles. He watched her sing and play the piano at music clubs, becoming more and more enamoured each time simply by the sound of her angelic voice. He built a shelf for her. She taught him how to make friendship bracelets. He met her best friend Flynn. She stayed over for dinner with the guys and got drunk on white wine, giggling along to the jokes.

They fit. But they weren’t exclusive. He had no clue if she was also seeing someone else. He presumed she didn’t, the two constantly revolving around each other, but he couldn’t be certain.

Alex was gobsmacked the first time he properly met her. Stunned that Luke had been right, that it worked out, that East Los Angeles was apparently nothing more than a small town. Luke reckoned he was just jealous he didn’t have to meet his person by getting maimed on the street - ha! 

His finger trailed along her sleeping silhouette, gently and drowsy, observing in awe how a smile subconsciously quirked on her lips and shifted closer to his touch. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose in the back of her neck. There were worse ways to wake up. 

— — — — — —

Eventually, Julie simply decided for him.

She was moving apartments and he was helping her pack, move furniture, throw shit out, the whole nine yards. For one person, she had a lot of stuff, her cabinets an endless supply of decor, souvenirs and memories.

They were whirling around each other like clock-work, never bumping and smoothly handing things over. Rap music was playing from the stereo, its sound drifting from her opened front door into the hallway.

One of her neighbours popped their head in.

"Oh!" The old man perked up, surprised. "You're moving, Julie?"

She looked up from rummaging through her CD collection to shoot him a tired smile. "Yeah," she puffed, "my lease is up, so..."

"Change of pace, I get it. That's wonderful," he nodded, gaze shifting to Luke walking out of the bathroom. "Hello!"

Luke smiled at him, waving with the box of oddly shaped soaps Julie had for some reason. "Hi."

"This is Luke, my boyfriend," Julie introduced, Luke freezing in his tracks all at once as the words utter from her lips. Boyfriend. Holy shit. It didn't faze her, smoothly babbling more than he wasn't processing.

Boyfriend. Which meant that she was his girlfriend. Which meant that now, he had to threaten the guys to not say a fucking word about how mentally deranged he was the first week after meeting her. This wasn’t planned. This was fully her. This was past fate and serendipity - this was by choice. It felt better than he thought. 

The man bid goodbye and left. Luke dropped the box on the coffee table, sliding towards her with a shit-eating grin.

"Boyfriend," he drawled exaggeratedly.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. ‘Cause you are. I know you well enough to know you can only do exclusive."

"Can you?"

"I said you were my boyfriend, didn't I?"

His smile widened, leaning in to kiss her. She met him halfway, loose curls tucked behind ears before her arms were slung around his waist. I love, I love you, I've loved you forever.

And then the truth tumbled out. Part of it, at least.

"I, uh," he gulped, looking at her through his lashes. "I saw you, that first day, and I thought you were the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Her face turned tender, a pout jutting from her lip as she gauged his reaction, like she was waiting for him to make a joke. He wasn't.

"Really?" she whispered, voice so small it took him aback for a beat.

His thumbs gently caressed her cheeks, withholding himself from saying anything more. This was enough. It was the truth without the crazy - being with her was crazy enough. Luke settled on a simple nod.

Her head tilted, shy amusement lilting her tone. "Good thing I'm moving closer to your neighbourhood then."

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!

word count: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.

“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.

“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.

Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.

“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”

“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”

Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.

She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.

“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”

She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!

Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door. 

“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.

“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”

“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.

“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door. 

It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.

“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.

The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there. 

Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon. 

You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa. 

“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.

Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.

Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.

“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.

“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”

“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!” 

You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.

“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.

“What? No, Harry--”

“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away. 

Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address. 

Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.

“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.

The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.

“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door. 

Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.

His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.

“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.

“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.

“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.

“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms. 

“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don’t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.

“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.

“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?” 

“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”

Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.

“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.

You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.

“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”

Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops. 

Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped. 

“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”

You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well? 

The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation. 

It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords. 

At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.

“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped. 

“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.

The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.

You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.

Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.

Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy. 

You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop. 

Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines. 

“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago. 

“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you. 

Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down. 

You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still. 

Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.

“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him. 

“Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”

You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.

“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move. 

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.

The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again. 

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.

You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.

“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.

You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath. 

“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.

“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.

“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.

You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.

Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?

“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.

“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well. 

“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.

“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out. 

You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.

Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.

You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.

Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch. 

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