#the other two playlists that actually include The Astronaut are in the works

[visionsofgideontheninth]

Moon playlist

Has Jin's The Astronaut inspired me to create what are now three different playlists? Does my David Bowie obsession also play a major part here? Did I at the last minute shove a Mandy Moore cover of The Waterboys in because my sister insisted this have 30 songs instead of 29? Yes, yes, and yes. I love some of the playlists others have posted so I wanted to share some of mine 🌝 (images from here and here)

including ... Blue Moon by Billie Holiday / Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine / Luna by The Smashing Pumpkins/ I Wish I Was The Moon by Neko Case / Moonlight Drive by Blondie, cover of The Doors / Half Moon by Janis Joplin / Moonlight by Agust D / Grace by Jeff Buckley / The Moon by Cat Power ... and then some

[angryschnauzer]

Waited So Long

Summary: As an actress in her mid 20′s you had been lucky enough to get the roles you pushed yourself for, but one role in particular needs a scene you have no experience with; a sex scene, and you co-star is surprised to discover you are still a virgin even though you are in your mid 20′s. But he’s willing to help with whatever you need.

Trope: Friends to Lovers, Co-stars to Lovers Pairing: Henry Cavill x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, loss of virginity, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, protection/condoms. 

I no longer operate a tag list, but instead pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert each time i post a new story.

Masterlist got so long all the links broke, so you can now find all my previous stories on my AO3 LINK HERE

Waited So Long 

Henry sat at the large table, grinning and laughing as the rest of the cast had finished reading through the latest episode’s script. Everyone was in a good mood and that was down to the fact that tomorrow’s shooting schedule required just you and Henry, meaning that everyone else got a three day weekend. But… but you were just staring at the script. You knew it had been coming, but to see the words in front of you, the stage descriptions, it was overwhelming. 

 The Netflix special was ten episodes of a sci-fi series, and you played an alien warrior. Henry was the plucky human astronaut  that had been aboard the International Space Station when it had been sucked into a black hole and had ended up on the far side of the universe. Eight episodes into the filming schedule and the pivotal sex scene was about to be included, and that’s what was clouding every thought in your mind. 

 You were far from naive, you had no issue with your costume or even the nudity - you were after all painted purple with patches of ‘scales’ in strategic parts - but it was the fact you had a small secret that was making you so nervous; you hadn’t ever actually had sex. 

 You were already mid 20’s, you’d been through university and stage school, worked on broadway and the London west end, you’d modelled for artists and had always put your career first. Relationships had just fizzled away after the first couple of dates because of your acting schedule… and that is how you found yourself not only a virgin in her mid 20’s, but one that had never even laid in bed with a partner, been close, felt the weight of a lover on top of them… anything at all.

 The producers called it a wrap for the read through, and the sounds of chairs scraping on the floor filled the room. As people shot their empty plastic bottles into the trash you felt your stomach lurch, quickly leaving the room, finding the disabled bathroom and running to the toilet, the contents of your stomach very quickly coming back up. 

 Finally empty, you sat on the floor and rested your head against the wall, your mind spinning. A quiet knock at the door made you open one eye, watching as the unlocked door swung open and a familiar face peered round;

 “Are you ok?” Henry asked, his bulk almost filling the entire doorway; “You’re not coming down with something?”

 You shook your head;

 “No, just umm… nerves… haha…” you laughed rather awkwardly.

 Stepping into the room, he sat against the opposite wall, leaning forwards to hand you his half finished bottle of water;

 “... about tomorrow?”

 Taking a sip of water you nodded;

 “Bit pathetic really, isn’t it?”

 “Not at all. Is this your first onscreen love scene?”

 “Yeah”

 He sat forwards, resting his hands on his knees as he thought pensively for a moment;

 “Are you going out with the crew tonight?”

 “No. Can’t really face it”

 “How about I drive us back to the house and order some chinese and talk things through? This isn’t my first love scene but I remember the nerves. We’ll get everything out in the open so the air is clear ready for tomorrow, yeah?”

 Nodding, you watched as he stood, holding out his hand for you and helping you to your feet.

 -

 The drive back to the shared house that most of the main cast members were staying at was fun, Henry having linked his Spotify to the stereo, firing up a playlist of old school pop with an eclectic mix of metal. By the time he rolled into the large driveway that the rental house had, you were both yelling out the words, laughing and grinning. 

 Once inside you excused yourselves to go shower, twenty minutes later finding Henry in the kitchen. His hair was wet and he wore a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants as he looked over the chinese menu;

 “What do you fancy?” he asked and you tried not to blurt out what you were thinking, because even though you may be a virgin, your thoughts were far from pure. 

 Looking over the list he had already scribbled down, you pointed to a couple of dishes, watching as he added them to the list before dialling for delivery. 

 -

 Pushing your plate away you stretched out and groaned. Still shovelling egg fried rice into his mouth, Henry pointed his fork at your plate;

 “Roo dun?” he asked, his cheeks full like a hamster.

 “Help yourself!”

 He eagerly dumped the rest of your lemon chicken on top of his rice, jabbing at the pieces;

 “Hey, about tomorrow… you really don’t need to worry. It’s just going to be you and me, and three other people”

 Taking a sip of your beer you quietly snorted;

 “That’s still three more people that would ‘usually’ be there… and four more than i’ve ever experienced”

 He paused, setting his fork down and you could see his mind working through what you said;

 “So uhh, it's been a while…?”

 “To be honest, it's been never”

 It was like something short circuited in his brain;

 “Never never? Like, never?”

 Putting your beer down, you fiddled with the label;

 “I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex. I’ve never even slept with anyone”

 There was an awkward silence, the air tense before Henry finally spoke;

 “Is it a religious thing?”

 You shook your head;

 “No. I just have been so wrapped up in studying or working or being on stage… I would get two dates into a relationship and some big opportunity would come up. I would get blinkered and end up ghosting guys without even realising. Ambition got in the way of a love life…”

 Henry took a deep breath;

 “Ok. So you know i’ll be covered up… down there i mean… and so will you… so there won’t be any slips or anything. I won’t be inside you or anything…”

 Cocking an eyebrow you scoffed;

 “Henry… I know you won’t be inside me. We studied sex scenes at stage school. They gave us the practical run down of what happens. It's lots of rubbing and grunting. I just need to go watch some porn again to figure out what to grunt…” you took a sip of your beer; “... and you probably wouldn’t fit inside me anyway… it’s not like anything has ever breached that hole”

 Henry sat with a wide eyed look on his face, his jaw hanging slack;

 “So you… you’ve never even pleasured yourself?”

 “Of course i have!” you threw a prawn cracker at him; “I’ve just never…. You know… had internal stimulation…”

 “Wow” he muttered quietly, shifting in his seat; “So…” he started again but then stopped, his brain seemingly unable to string a coherent sentence together. 

 Finally he cleared his throat;

 “So there’s never been any on set stuff?”

 “Nope. Usually I run through my lines for the next day, check the schedule, the set and makeup call times. I guess the one bonus about all of this is that there aren’t any lines for tomorrow”

 You both knew that the scene had been set up without dialogue, mostly from Netflix’s instruction because any erotic scenes can cause havoc with sensors in some countries when it comes to subtitles. 

 “What did you want to do now? Do you want an early night? Watch a movie? Talk? You want me to lay on top of you?” he asked, picking his now cold plate of food up and dumping the leftovers in the waste disposal.

 “Yes” you replied far too quickly.

 “Which part?”

 “All of it”

 -

 With the TV in the main living area out of action thanks to a rather rambunctious game of ping pong a few weeks ago, the pair of you had moved to Henry’s room. An hour into the movie and it was far from your thoughts, instead you were in the bizarre situation where Henry was literally laying on top of you as you had a conversation. The feeling of his weight pressing against you was at first a surprise, he was thick with muscles for the role, and with probably 200lbs of human pressing you against the mattress you had found you would have to shift now and again. Finally you found a position that was comfortable, and as you chatted about life you found your legs had naturally parted to allow him to lay between them, his stomach pressing to yours, his face inches from your own;

 “This is literally how we’ll be spending our day tomorrow you realise” he quietly pointed out

 “But there will be grunting too… plus some thrusting… it’ll probably get your ass in the gossip magazines as best ass in hollywood again” you teased him, knowing that the nudity he’d done in previous shows and movies had earned him a lot of attention thanks to his rather peachy behind.

 Henry pushed up a little, poking a finger to your breasts;

 “Oh yeah? Well these will earn you a whole legion of fans, you have an awesome pair of tits”

 “Pfft, they’re just average”

 “They’re good enough to give me a semi” he countered with a crooked grin on his face, using his finger to just tug at your neckline, exposing a tiny bit more skin.

 You shifted beneath him without even realising you were doing so and that’s when you felt it, a growing hardness pressing against your abdomen. Your eyes went wide as you stared up at him, the mix of emotions showing on his face;

 “I’ll get off…”

“No!” you instinctively wrapped your legs around his, leaning your head up and pressed a kiss to his lips. He let out a grunt of surprise and you felt him tense, before he softened, his lips following yours as you pulled rested your head back on the duvet beneath you.

 His lips were soft and plump, and as he rocked his hips against you again this time you felt he was getting harder. Instinctively you gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You may not have had sex before but you had kissed, and your tongue danced with his as hands started to explore each others bodies, fingers seeking out skin as t-shirts were tugged up to expose heated skin. 

 Pulling your shirt over your head he admired your naked chest, the pattern on your top having hidden the fact you were without a bra;

 “Oh yeah, even purple these’ll be popular”

 With a smirk on his lips and a wicked grin on his face he lowered his mouth to your naked torso, taking one peaked nipple between his lips to suck on it, his hand cupping your other breast. As he worked his magic your body responded, the wetness between your thighs soaking through your clothing, the subtle movements of your bodies rubbing together making your arousal almost uncontrollable. Winding your hands into his dark locks, the soft hair curled around your fingers as he looked at you, pressing a trail of kisses down your sternum until he reached your leggings;

 “Can i continue?” he asked quietly, watching as you nodded your head;

 “Yes… please…”

 As he pulled your leggings off he pressed kisses to the heated skin that he revealed, never breaking eye contact;

 “So here’s what i’m going to do… first i’m going to get you to cum with my tongue, i’ll slip it just a little inside you so you can get used to the feeling, then i’ll gently tease you with my fingers; find that g-spot of yours as i’ve been assured a g-spot orgasm is completely different from a clitoral orgasm…

 “Fuck…”

 “Yes, that’s the third thing…” he grinned at you; “Once you’re nice and ready, and really really wet i’m going to make love to you… so you can practice your moans for tomorrow…”

 He shed you of the rest of your clothing before softly grasping your legs and pulling them apart, revealing your virgin core. Tender fingers parted your petals before his tongue swiped a wide stripe through them, and the sound that emerged from your throat startled even you.

 “You like that?”

 “Yes… oh my god, please do that again!”

 “With pleasure!”

 “The pleasure is all mine…”

 “Henry?”

 “Yes?”

 “Please shut up and get on with it” you grinned at him, before he dipped his face back between your legs and went to town. His tongue was seemingly everywhere, grunts and moans as he worked you open, and when he slipped his tongue into the ring of muscle at your entrance your eyes shot open and you giggle-moaned at the unfamiliar but not unpleasant experience. When a finger found your clit you relaxed again, laying back and enjoying the pleasure he was selflessly giving you. 

 Gripping at the bedcovers you found your hips started to move on their own, only for Henry to press a strong arm across your stomach to hold you in place, pushing you closer and closer to your orgasm. When it finally did hit your body reacted instinctively; your legs wrapping themselves around his head, your back arching and your fingers almost tearing through the fabric of the sheets, before you finally went limp. As your mind was nothing but stars a muffled voice came through the haze of your post orgasmic bliss;

 “If i could get some oxygen…”

 Not realising your legs were still firmly wrapped around Henry’s head, you quickly released him, his head popping up from beneath your thighs. His cheeks were flushed red and his chin was wet, and it took you a moment to realise you were the cause for the wetness. He wiped his chin with the back of his hand before standing and grabbing a bottle of water to pass to you;

 “You’re gonna need to rehydrate after that…”

 You went to take the bottle from him but the bulging tent in his sweatpants distracted you, your hand pausing mid air before Henry laughed;

 “Drink first, then you can play with it”

 “Oh… I… “

 “Drink”

 Taking the bottle you sipped at the tepid liquid as he lay on the bed beside you. When you’d finished he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his firm chest before kissing you softly;

 “Are you ready for round two?”

 “Can i touch you too?”

 A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he nodded, watching as you eased the elastic of his sweats down and his heavy cock sprang free. Your jaw fell as you took in his size, but before you could overthink it he pressed a kiss to your lips as his hands wandered between your thighs. 

 Reaching out you wrapped your fingers around him as his own slid between your folds, dancing over your clit before he pressed a single digit inside you, your eyes going wide and your hand squeezing him involuntarily. 

 “Does that feel good?”

 You nodded;

 “Yes, a little strange that i’m not in control, but i think that’s what makes it even more exciting”

 “That’s good… now, how about another finger?”

 Nodding again you bit your lip as he slid a second finger in alongside the first, your eager hole stretching around his digits. Instinctively you had started to move your hand up and down his shaft, doing little more than gentle movements, but soon the pair of you got into a rhythm, working together to leave your breaths in time with the others.

 “Doing so well for me… so wet. Shall we try a third?”

 Nodding you let out a quiet ‘uh-huh’ as he repositioned his hand, carefully sliding three fingers into your soaked velvet channel, and the noise that came from your throat was base and full of sin. When his thumb started to rub against your clit while he continued to work three fingers inside you the spring in your belly snapped and you were coming hard, shaking around his hand.

 As you came down from your high Henry carefully withdrew his fingers, salaciously licking them clean before he got off the bed and went to the drawer in the little cabinet, pulling out a condom.

 “Oh… i’m on the pill…” you blurted out; “You don’t have to… In fact i’d really like to feel you, you know… bare…”

 Tearing the packet open he grinned at you;

 “I get that… but you’re gonna be in makeup in less than 12 hours” he knelt on the bed as he started to roll the latex down his angry dick.

 “Umm yeah?”

 “Well its something you’d only know from experience, but it can take up to 24 hours for a guys cum to fully leak out of you”

 “Oh…”

 “And your costume and makeup gets pretty intimate, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

 “So you want Iris in makeup to be able to smell my cum dripping out of you when she’s painting your snatch purple tomorrow?” he said with a grin on his face, rolling the condom down fully before positioning himself between your legs

 “I gotta be honest, the idea that someone realises i’ve had sex is kinda kinky” you craned your neck up to kiss him as you felt his dick notch at the entrance to your cunt; “But you’re the expert here”

 “That i am… Let me show you just how much of an expert…”

 With a smooth roll of his hips he pushed into you and the feeling was indescribable, in fact it was so overwhelming you screwed your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall, but Henry simply held still, kissing each one of your tears as they fell down your cheeks until you were ready.

 “Breathe babe… just breathe… it’s overwhelming i know… i understand…”

 Opening your eyes you gazed up at him, smiling as he leaned down and kissed you softly.

 “Are you ok?”

 “Y-yeah…”

 “You want me to keep going?”

 “Please… oh god please”

 “Gonna make you feel so good”

 He carefully pulled his hips back before pushing into you again, seemingly getting deeper before pulling out again. Soon you were lost in the moment, feelings both physical and emotionally almost overwhelming you again as your body was taken to new heights of pleasure, Henry seemingly knowing exactly how to make the moment special for you.

 Your body reacted in the best way, the tight spring inside you curling ever tighter, until with just the right roll of his hips he tipped you over the edge and you were coming hard, your body squeezing him so tight he knew he’d found heaven whilst you saw stars. 

 Whilst you were in the haze of your orgasm you heard the most beautiful moans, and felt as Henry came deep within you. As soon as he stopped shaking he wrapped his arms around you tightly, pressing his face to your neck as he cradled the back of your head with his massive hand, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin as you both basked in the aftershocks of your intense orgasms.

 Finally Henry pushed himself up to bear his weight on one arm, sliding his other hand between your bodies to hold the condom in place as he carefully pulled out of you;

 “I’m just gonna get rid of this… stay here”

 You watched his peachy ass as he quickly mad his way to the bathroom, hearing water running before he reappeared moments later with a damp washcloth. Sitting delicately beside you he carefully cleaned you up, and when he was finished he pulled the duvet over your naked body as he quickly got rid of the cloth and joined you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his chest;

 “Are you ok?”

 “I think so… Did i make a mess of your bed?”

 “No. No blood”

 “Really? I thought…”

 “If you’re relaxed enough you may not bleed… or you may have simply ruptured your hymen just through every day life. A fall, tampons, strenuous exercise… didn’t you do a horseriding movie a couple of years back?”

 “Y-yeah…” you cast your mind back; “Now you mention it, there was one really long day when i’d spent all day shooting a galloping scene with jumps… i just thought my period was coming early, and i had this really dull ache in my lower back… i guess that makes sense now…”

 “So… you’re good? Feel ok about filming tomorrow?”

 You nodded;

 “Yeah, i’m good. Thank you” You looked up at him and saw he was chewing his lip nervously; “What?”

 “I was wondering… you know… after we’ve finished filming tomorrow… did you want to go to dinner with me?”

 “Like a date?”

 “Yeah… hey i understand if you say no… that you want to concentrate on your role and acting…”

 “No! I mean yes!” you took a deep breath; “I’d love to go to dinner with you”

 He pressed a kiss to your cheek before you settled on his chest, his strong heartbeat beating beneath your ear as you let your eyelids drop and you fell asleep in his arms.

 -

 Iris tutted as you fidgeted;

 “Will you stand still? I need to get these scales on!”

 “Sorry Iris… just a little sore…”

 The older woman looked up at you as she held the patch of purple scales prosthetic and grinned;

 “Well its about time” she nodded to the various bottles and jars that were on the counter; “Make sure you take the coconut oil when you leave tonight, it’ll help get the adhesive off without pulling on any bruises”

 You looked down at Iris and smiled;

 “Thanks Iris”

 “Was it worth it?”

 “So worth it”

[russell-crowe]

Kunt u een Spinvis album aanbevelen? x

Hi! I’m assuming you used google translate given the use of the formal ‘u’ instead of ‘je/jij’, so I’ll be replying in English. Don’t be offended please, I actually think it’s rather cute and I want to make sure we understand each other! First of all, for people who are like: “What the fuck is Spinvis?”Spinvis (Dutch for Spider-fish) is a Dutch one-man project centred on Erik de Jong (born 2 February 1961, Spijkenisse). Using experimental, lo-fi music, Spinvis became an instant success in his home country, earning two gold records in the process and performing sold-out tours in both the Netherlands and Belgium.

Anyway, he’s made five records as Spinvis. Alongside that he’s recorded some soundtracks for movies, done some projects with poets, has released a live DVD+CD and he’s collaborated with some artist. I can’t pick just one album to recommend to you, so I’ll do my three favourites and explain a bit what the themes of them are so you can pick them. Spinvis (2002) is his first album and for that reason already a great place to start. It’s quite a cult favourite. Essentially at the time Erik made music in his attic whenever he finished working in the factory. He had already spent his entire life wanting to make music and he’d been in many bands with his friends. At some point most of these friends left, settled down and got jobs. Given that he was left on his own he decided to make music on his own by playing all the instruments and things himself. For his first album, ‘Spinvis’, he decided to leave all the little mistakes in that he had made when he recorded the album in his attic. Of course it has been mixed a bit to sound better, but it’s made to feel like a record that comes straight from his brain. It starts of with the dreamy sounds of ‘Bagagedrager’, which is a song named after the luggage carrier on the back of your bicycle. Essentially the song is about all the luggage you pick up on your way to life and that you’ll always carry around when you’re biking. To me it’s the best song to describe the feeling of depression. He deliberately repeated the bridge multiple times to show the grind of daily life. Then after that come some of the best lines in Dutch music history. They translate to:“There’s always something and always regret / Of all the money and all the time / On the unpaved roads that led you here / The mornings are white and cold / And whichever way you hold your steering wheel / The wind comes through your gloves / Your fingers are cold as stone.”I heard it live for the first time at the last gig I saw him at and I genuinely cried. I have never felt like a song understood me as much as that one does. ‘Spinvis’ also includes ‘Smalfilm’ (an absurd song about all these ‘characters’), ‘Voor Ik Vergeet’ (’Before I forget’, A song about dementia), ‘Astronaut’ (a song I want to have played at my funeral), ‘In de staat van narcose’ (another song about depression that it me very hard) and ‘Ronnie gaat naar huis’ (’Ronnie is going home’, which features his kids and wife as a background choir)The other albums I’d recommend are Tot Ziens, Justine Keller (2011) and Trein Vuur Dageraad (2017). ‘Tot Ziens, Justine Keller’ was written with the idea of all the songs being little letters to this woman called Justine. With some of them it’s more clear than others, but it does add a theme to the record. Its first track, ‘Oostende’, is one of my favourite Spinvis tracks. It’s a beautifully sad story and the line ‘History never repeats itself, but it’ll always rhyme at some point’ really sticks out to me. The bridge/outro is THE BEST. ‘Kom Terug’, is what would get my vote of the best Dutch song ever. Just listen to this version. Fucking kill me. (Even if he does fuck up the timing somewhere). He wrote the song after his wife texted him ‘come back’, which he thought had so much power that he needed to write a song about it. Since then people have started giving it so many meanings and the song has come to life. People have approached him and said they listened to it whenever they thought of their son travelling the world, they listened to it when they were griefing, people got it tattooed. ‘Travel far, drink wine, think about it, laugh hard, dive deep and come back’ It also includes ‘Club Insomnia’ which was based on when Erik discovered that a large amount of people in the world suffers with Insomnia (just like he does, himself.) He imagined what it’d be like if everyone in the world with Insomnia would meet up in a club together. It’s one of my favourites. Last but not least is ‘Trein Vuur Dageraad’, the album that has been tattooed on my body now! The title translates to ‘Train, fire, dusk’ and it’s the album that really convinced me of Spinvis. The title track features the lines ‘in every country a home country’, inspired by Europe. It also says: ‘Who I’m going to be, who I used to be’ and someone said that really applies to me as a transman. The first proper track, ‘Hallo Maandag’ is about a guy who one day decides that nothing in life can get to him anymore. He essentially stands up and says, “Bring it on, monday. Bring it on, world.” That’s one way that really shows how Erik has grown up and matured. He still likes melancholia and death and mortality will always be part of his lyrics, but he’s sort of learned how to… tackle it? I think ‘Trein Vuur Dageraad’ might be the lesser approachable out of these three because it includes some slower songs, but that one will always be in my heart as my number one. ♥Here’s a playlist with my favourite Spinvis songs (in no particular order)! I also want to say that despite him being a bit of a hero in the indie music scene in The Netherlands he’s THE most laid back guy and the few times we talked/sent emails he’s been the absolute sweetest, goofiest guy and I can’t imagine anyone else who (1: deserves it as much as he does (2: is as much of a mentor figure as he is. Hope this helped!

[pumpkins-s]

Stormbreaker / Coffinmaker

Read On AO3 Here

When Pidge is offered the spot as communications officer for the Kerberos Mission, to accompany her father, and her friend and former classmate Shiro, she’s expecting eight months of quiet, beautiful cosmos, ice samples, and—if she’s lucky—some broadcast signals to support her alien life theories.

She is not expecting to end up the prisoner of a fascistic race of alien cat-lizards hellbent on apparently reenacting the ugliest parts of the Roman empire, down to the massive enslavement and expansion effort and the gladiators as entertainment shtick.

But, if she’s going down, she figures she might as well go down swinging.

(Or, in which Pidge is the third Kerberos member, is decidedly not a damsel in distress who needs protection—thank you very much Shiro—is very much done with this crap, and fully intends to make it home to her little brother, no matter what it takes.)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationships: platonic Pidge & Shiro, Pidge & Matt, Pidge & Sam Holt

Characters: Pidge, Shiro, Sam Holt, Matt Holt, Thace, Ulaz

Rating + Warnings: Rated Teen; trigger warnings include graphic violence, blood, combat, murder, and systematic transphobia on the part of the Galra. I recommend checking AO3, or in my author’s notes under the cut, for a more extensive list.

Stormbreaker was written for the @pidgebigbang, and is accompanied by art from @anime7otaku7artist7. 

Chapter 1: Willow

((Author’s Note: 

Hello, hello! Welcome to Stormbreaker / Coffinmaker, my fic for the Pidge Big Bang. Developing the concept and storyline for this fic was the work of months (even if I wrote 90% of it in the last two weeks before it was due shhhh), and I'm so pleased to finally be able to share it. I love Pidge and the friendship she holds with Shiro, and I really wanted a chance to explore that in a setting where they were closer to being peers, as well as what her relationship to Matt would be like if she were the older sibling, and hence that (+ my desire to just see Pidge kicking ass as a gladiator) is how Stormbreaker was born.

As always, music played a big part in my writing, and I'd like to take a moment to credit that: I wrote and outlined this fic largely to the work of Barns Courtney and Florence + The Machine, particularly his  The Attractions of Youth album and her How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful album, respectively, and the influence of both is definitely there in how the story turned out. The title of this fic was chosen as a nod to two songs that pushed the concept and development of Stormbreaker by leaps and bounds. Of Monster And Men's Winter Sound, and Florence + The Machine's My Boy Builds Coffins. And of course, I can't not mention the song that played the original inspiration for this fic: No Doubt's Just A Girl.

For your listening enjoyment while you read, there's also an actual playlist for this fic (with more than just those previously mentioned couple of artists in it, promise). You can find the tumblr post for it here, with art by the wonderful corpus--corvus, or jump straight to the Spotify or Youtube link.

Before you read, a final warning for the content -- this is a gladiator fic, boys & girls & nonbinary pals. That means violence, blood, injury (Shiro's probably an obvious indication but people do lose limbs), fight to the death scenarios, and murder. People die in this story, and not all of them necessarily deserve it, though rest assured Pidge and Shiro themselves stay (relatively) intact. There's also the presence of underage drinking in a flashback scene, some mentions of the sexual abuse and forced prostitution of slaves within the Empire, and swearing. So much fucking swearing. Additionally, while all relationships are written to be strictly platonic, Shiro and Pidge's longer friendship and view of each other as closer to peers does mean their friendship has an emotional intimacy that wouldn't necessarily be seen in their canon counterparts. They lean on each other for support, quite literally, so if any of that would be a personal squick to you for whatever reason, please look away now.

That's about it! Enormous thanks to the Pidge Big Bang mods for putting this all together, and to my artist, anime7otaku7artist7, for their phenomenal work. Their art is embedded in the story, and you can also find a link to it here.

Stormbreaker is split into eight sections, with the entirety already written out pre posting. Chapters range from about 4-10 thousand words, with the first one being the shortest. It will update every day until its completion (so long as everything with editing and posting goes smoothly on my end, at least. Here's hoping). Enjoy!))

(( Author’s Note [Cont.]:

Willow: Forsaken

The gorgeous title art opening this chapter, while not provided by my official artist for the Pidge Big Bang, is provided by the wonderful corpus--corvus, who put up with months of my ranting about Stormbreaker!Pidge, and generously provided me with both this title art, and coverart for this fic's playlist. Thank you Logan you're a peach.))

Oh I'm just a girl, living in captivity

Your rule of thumb

Make me worry some

Oh I'm just a girl, what's my destiny?

- "Just a Girl", No Doubt

“Careful,” is the first thing Pidge’s father says to her, and she sighs, blowing errant bangs out of her eyes—she knew she should have pinned them back when they were suiting up—as she steadies her arms and inches the ice sample out of the extraction drill.

“Yeah, Pidge, careful,” Shiro says with a grin she can only classify as shit-eating, leaning over the back of the drill with his forearms resting on top.

“I am careful,” she snaps, fully removing the sample and hefting it between her arms. The weight is less than that of Earthen ice of the same mass—which is expected, given the gravity on Kerberos is much lesser than that on Earth. It’s a lucky thing their suits are specially designed and weighted to model Earth’s gravity on their interior, Pidge wouldn’t want to be hopping and stumbling around like the astronauts of her grandparents’ generation.

She hands the sample over to her father carefully, his eyes bright as he studies it. “Extraordinary.”

Pidge glances over at Shiro, who is doing his best to look anything more than politely interested, and smirks. “What? Not impressed?”

Shiro looks down at her, and shrugs ungainly against the bulk of his suit. “You guys get…a little more excited about ice samples than I do. I understand their value, but it’s not exactly my area.”

“Yeah, yeah, motorboy.” Pidge rolls her eyes. “I get it, you’re only interested in things with an engine and that go really fast.”

“That’s—“ Shiro makes a face. “Ok, that’s only partially true. I also like…uh…” He trails off, brows furrowed, and Pidge grins. “…What do I like?” he finally asks, looking to Pidge in askance.

“Uh. Reading? Fixing Keith’s bike?” Pidge counts off on her fingers, squinting down at them. “That’s…you’re really bad at having non-work-related hobbies, dude.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Oh! Me!” Pidge holds up a third finger triumphantly. “You like me!”

Shiro groans. “You’re my best friend, that’s a given—“

“You know what I like?” Pidge says, and then continues on before Shiro has the chance to respond. “I’ll tell you what I like. Motherfucking aliens, that’s what I like, Shiro.”

“And here we go again—“

“And that—“ Pidge points at the ice sample, “could be the key to finally proving their existence, right Dad?”

“Well,” her father says, looking quietly amused as he shifts the sample in his hands. “We certainly can’t rule anything out, all the way out here. And I’d hardly complain if one of these ice samples wanted to come along and solve my life’s—“ There’s a rumble all around them, rock vibrating slightly beneath their feet, and he pauses. “…What was that?”

“Earthquake?” Pidge asks as another rumble starts up, stronger than the last.

“Kerberos-quake?” Shiro mutters behind her, and she turns to tell him just how terrible that was, before the strongest shake yet occurs, throwing her off balance, and she yelps, falling forward.

“Pidge!” She catches herself on Shiro’s outstretched arm. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” She shakes her head, trying to dispel the hair blocking her vision and the vague sense of dizziness she feels. “We should get back to the—“ She stops, caught up in the feeling of something suddenly here, large and looming and right behind her, and slowly turns around as a ship comes into view.

For once, all her knowledge—all her calculations, her observations, her vast vocabulary, abandon her, and she is left with one thought, and one thought only.

That isn’t one of their ships.

“It can’t be…” She hears her father say, but it’s distant, muffled, as if he was underwater, and then all she can focus on is Shiro grabbing desperately at her arm, yanking her along.

“Run. Run!”

She runs.

It’s a rush of sudden sound, sudden movement that seems at odds with the serene stillness expected of space. All she can hear is the roaring noise of whatever is behind them, Shiro’s shouts, her own heavy breathing as she stumbles along in her suit, the previously steadying weight suddenly cumbersome.

There’s a sudden pull behind them, around them, everything lit up purple, and Pidge screams as her feet suddenly leave the ground, flying up into the void of black above them. She hears both of the others yell her name, and she reaches out blindly for something, anything—her father’s blurry form, the outstretched hand she knows is Shiro’s, only to find nothing.

Tractor beam, a detached, scientific part of her mind supplies for her. I’m the smallest, so it’s natural I’d be the first picked up.

Sure enough, one of them—she thinks her father—flies up a moment after, Shiro caught up off the ground last.

They’re both shouting in panic, and Pidge thinks she should be screaming, too. Might already be screaming, or perhaps she’s forgotten to altogether, it’s impossible to tell, right now. She is not in control of the motion of her own body, of her senses.

Debris off the ground, caught up in the beam with them, catches on the side of Shiro’s helmet, scraping along, and she can only pray it hasn’t knocked it loose, hasn’t stolen his oxygen, before another rock slams into her own head.

The last thing she hears as it all goes black is the sound of her own voice tapering off, dying in her throat like a person hanged, condemned and left to die.

…Oh, so she had been screaming.

The night Shiro gets offered the position of pilot for the Kerberos mission, Pidge drags him out drinking.

“Shots!” she announces loudly, placing them down on the bar, and Shiro winces. He’s the one person she knows who gets a headache just from being in a bar. Normally, Pidge would have sympathy, as prone to migraines brought on from stress and lack of sleep as she is, but over time she’s come to accept this is an inevitability of taking Shiro out anywhere fun that isn’t space or flight themed. Luckily, the more alcohol Shiro gets in him, the more he seems to forget about his headache, or his apathy towards bars in general—enough to be willing to repeat the same cycle of misery, ecstasy, and then mild hangovers, occasionally, every few weeks, at least.

“What are those?” He picks one up cautiously, sniffing at it. “Whiskey?”

“Mhmm,” Pidge hums happily, sliding into the stool next to his. “Good brand, too.”

“I think I’ll just order one of those fruity cocktails,” Shiro says with an air of quiet distaste, sliding the shot glass back across to Pidge.

“Weak.” She downs them both, hers first and then Shiro’s, slamming the second empty glass down to the background of his horrified face.

“I don’t know how you do that,” he says, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Drinking is just one of the many things they do together, but in very different ways. Shiro—perhaps still trying to live down the keg-stand days of his barely-twenties that Pidge remembers sneaking into at seventeen or so all too fondly—doesn’t like anything strong, anything that leaves too much of a burn behind. He finds his preferences in what is sweet, where the alcohol is masked by some more agreeable mix-in.

Pidge, meanwhile, relishes the burn. Chases the chemistry reacting in her own body, the poison her brain somehow just barely sustains, with fascination. Drinking is stupid, objectively. So naturally that only leads to the urge to categorize it, sample every flavor until she understands every urge and every predilection.

She watches Shiro order his cocktail in amusement, and waves her hand when the bartender looks to her. They both know how to take care of themselves—and each other, if they find it necessary. Shiro will sip his fruity drinks, and Pidge will knock back a couple shots before giving it a break and then nursing a beer or some watered down vodka-and-schnapps concoction for the rest of the night.

She’s an experimenter, not an idiot. If she takes it too far, makes herself too sick or poisons herself too permanently, she won’t be able to carry out the next test. She’s the extent of her own sample size, which means she has to make herself last.

“Remember when we were young,” she says languidly, swinging around on her stool and leaning on the bar, head tilting up to watch the ceiling, then Shiro. “And we’d party like the sun wouldn’t come up?”

“I remember going through a bottle of Advil every two months, yeah,” Shiro says dryly. “Besides you’re—I love the way you say that, when we were young. You’re not even legal to drink yet.”

“Shhh.” Pidge waves a hand. “Keep your voice down or you’ll get us kicked out. I worked hard on that I.D., Matt helped me pick the picture.”

“And what a great picture it is,” Shiro offers sarcastically, and Pidge levels a threatening eye at his drink. He pointedly moves it out of her reach, and after a moment, continues. “I still don’t get why you like bars so much. You’re you—I can barely get you out of your room to go to the dining hall.”

“Are you kidding me?” She waves a hand. “Bars are the one place where I can get social stimulus without having to actually talk to or acknowledge anyone beyond the wonderful person providing my drink. It’s an observational heaven. At the Garrison I actually have to make conversation.” She shudders, and Shiro snorts.

“…It still feels weird being out here, with your parents knowing where we go.”

“Joys of being second-gen American,” Pidge says proudly. “Just enough Italian left over where a twenty-one plus drinking age seems like the dumbest thing in the world.”

“I guess.” Shiro wrinkles his nose. “Still just feels weird when my commanding officer knows I go out drinking with his daughter.”

“Shiro, you practically live in our house. You’re in Matt’s elementary school graduation picture, for crying out loud. Bit late for worrying about that sort of thing.” Shiro winces, and Pidge laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “Man. Kerberos. I can’t believe you’ll be locked up with only my dad and some poor communications officer for eight months.” She pauses, and at Shiro’s faintly proud, but still somber look, she grins. “Maybe I should suggest to Dad he bring his zero-gravity specialized Scrabble board along.”

“Oh god,” Shiro groans, dropping his face into his elbow against the bar. “Please, don’t.”

“Doing it,” Pidge says happily. After a long moment, she looks over to Shiro, curling her arms into a pillow on the bar for her to drop her head onto, sighing. “…It’ll be weird, without you here. It was going to be strange enough not having Dad around that long, but at least I’m used to him disappearing off for missions.” Shiro grunts morosely, and she hums. “Always got Matt, I suppose. And Mom. I’ll just spend more time around the house or something. Lucky we live so close.”

Shiro says nothing, stealing the discarded beer bottle of some other long-departed patron, and peeling habitually at the label in one of his little-seen nervous gestures. “It will be weird.” There’s silence again, and Pidge is just starting to wonder if she’s expected to say something, before he continues, quiet and unsure. “You know they haven’t decided on a communications officer yet. You could always…throw your hat in the ring. They’re already worried about team compatibility—with a mission this long, and this important—and everyone knows we work well together.”

“Me?” Pidge snorts. “Please. Even if I wanted to—and I’m not saying I do—they’d never take me. I’m still a cadet.”

“Only while you finish up the last of your engineering credits.” Shiro points out sullenly, still not meeting her eyes. “You’ve been an officially marked communications officer for the better part of a year at this point. And there’s no one better at the job.”

Pidge blinks, surprised at the blunt honesty in his tone. “…You…really want me to apply, don’t you?”

Shiro shrugs, glaring down at the decimated bottle label. “It’d just be—it’d feel weird without you, alright? Like something was missing.”

Almost unconsciously, Pidge reaches across, snatching up the balled-up wrapper, freeing it from Shiro’s wrath and contemplating it, as if it might suddenly give her an answer to this new puzzle.

Of course, looking for solutions in beer bottle wrappers is neither scientific nor logical, so Pidge isn’t very surprised when it offers her none.

“…I guess we do do most everything together, don’t we?” she offers softly. Shiro just shrugs again, avoiding both the answer and her eyes as he sits up and sips awkwardly at his drink. He doesn’t want to pressure her, to suggest her into something she doesn’t want to do. He also doesn’t want to go without her.

He’s always been stupidly good at expressly not talking about his worries, especially when he thinks he’s burdening someone else with them. Luckily for him, while Pidge is no feelings expert, she is a Shiro expert at this point, and very good at determining the logical end point to a problem.

“Yeah, okay,” she says unthinkingly. “Why not?” Shiro turns to look at her, still all kinds of conflicted mixed in with his hope, and she steals his drink easily, downing back the last of it, and when she slams it onto the bar next to the empty shot glasses, it sounds like a promise.

Kerberos. What could go wrong?

It’ll give her an amusing story to tell Matt when she gets rejected, at least.

…We come from a peaceful planet…

Pidge comes to with a quiet gasp and a rush of aching pain along her left temple. She startles just ever so slightly—everything blurry and her suit feeling far, far too heavy for either Kerberos or the conditions of their ship—before the weight of strong hands holding her arms behind her back, and Shiro’s muffled voice pleading somewhere off to her left, come to her attention, and she tenses, stills.

It doesn’t all come back so much in a rush as in a trickle of images, feeding into her brain like a lagging video on a bad connection as her quick, panicked breaths fog up the inside of her visor. The ship, the tractor beam, being dragged up and up and away from Shiro and her father, the sudden crunch of the rock against her skull, all sliding through her mind and clicking into place.

For the first time in a long, long time, Pidge feels true panic grip her, staring down into the abyss of the unknown. She’d come close, in their attempt to flee the inevitable on Kerberos, but had been too caught up in the immediacy of the situation. That was instinctive panic, raw and something close to animal.

This is a panic of exercised consideration. Of weighing up her circumstances and what little information she has available to her and ultimately coming up short—short of a plan, short of an idea, short of even a clue. She has no idea where she is—beyond somewhere she never was supposed to be—who has her, or what is going to happen.

Based on her position and her mode of capture, Pidge can only assume herself and the others are being held captives by a hostile extraterrestrial power. Which is not, she thinks a little hysterically, even remotely fucking close to something the Garrison had prepared them for.

For Pidge, sorting all this out amongst the overwhelmed screeching in her head and the dull throb of pain above her eyes that signals either an impending migraine or a concussion feels like the work of hours. But it must only be moments, because one second Shiro is talking, stammering out a few desperate phrases on their behalf, before there’s a shuffle of movement, and Shiro’s cut-off yelp of pain as something strikes him.

At that she does stir, almost involuntarily jerking against the hold on her to turn and observe, check on Shiro’s condition—he was speaking, which means at least he hadn’t sustained any major head injuries, surely. In response there’s a tightening of the grip on her arms, an increase on the weight pressing down on her back, a boot maybe, and she buckles instinctively, head bowing to the ground and her whole body going taut but unmoving.

Eventually, after some further exchanges of words she can’t muddle out in the confused space of her brain beyond the disbelieving fact that it’s definitely English, the grip holding Pidge shifts, moving as something like handcuffs with a rigid bar between them is shackled onto her wrists. Something takes hold of the bar, and begins to drag her backwards, assumedly out of the room. Rough sliding noises on her left and right are the only indication she has that the same is being done to her father and Shiro, she doesn’t dare look to confirm.

It’s not until they’re moving along some hallway, and the other dragging noises move past and ahead of her, that Pidge dares to tilt her head just slightly up, trying to catch sight of something beyond her own feet scraping along a metal floor.

She can only get glimpses, between long stretches of endless chrome and the shine of purple lighting coming from some undeterminable source. Flashes in windows of huge containment systems, layers upon layers of prisoners crammed into cages and moved about as if building blocks directed by a child. She sees whispers of floors upon floors of moving figures, all discernable only in the same shades of grey and purple, with splashes of red, outsizing any operation she’s ever seen at the Garrison.

She sees torture. She sees order. She sees cruelty. She sees control.

There’s the bark of voices above her head, and she yelps as she is dragged around a corner roughly, the quick turn putting a strain on her arms. But she doesn’t dare fight back, not at the risk of suffering the same fate as Shiro.

Observation is her greatest—her only strength, right now. She must do what she does best, as she does at officer meetings, in Garrison dining halls and classrooms, even in shitty, dim-lit desert town bars.

Pidge watches. She grasps at every piece of data, commits to memory every variable she can spot, and above it all she is left with only one question, buzzing in the back of her dizzied, overwhelmed mind.

Where the hell are we?

[bee-alice]

Requested by @serana-spring “Hello! So I was wondering as to whether or not you could do a headcanon on the paladins dancing with their s/o? I can't wait to see what you write!”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Aww! Thank you so much! This is my second request and I hope you like it! I’ll go in order of which lion was found first! Adding some music. Art work from The Searching Astronaut, I take no credit for the drawings.

Lance

Oh boi, this long legged Cuban can dance! No joke! Coming from a Latin based family (a large one at that), he is the first one on the dance floor.

Thanks to being flexible, this man can go from line dancing (Cha Cha slide, Cupid shuffle) to going all out like he’s performing for Dancing with the Stars. That includes twirling and spinning.

Doesn’t wait for anyone to challenge him. He will waltz right up to you and ask you to dance. P.S., if you ask him to dance with you, you WILL make him blush and stutter.

His favorite dance with his S.O. is where he holds you close.

He loves to stare into your eyes, one hand cupping your back or the small of your back, wherever you feel comfortable. His other hand is holding your free hand, linking your fingers with his.

His favorite song to dance to is a tie between Bendita tu Luz by Mana and Juan Luis Guerra or Colgando en tus Manos by Carlos Baute and Marta Sanchez.

For best results, let him sing to you and sing with him! There is nothing he loves more than to have someone to sing cheesy, Spanish love song with.

Before the song ends, BRACE YOURSELF. This smooth talking, lover boi dancer enjoys dipping you at the very end of the song. Just hold on and trust him. He won’t let you fall.

If you kiss his cheek at the end, he’ll take you out on another dance.

Hunk

This sweet, lovable, dorky man is a little shy when it comes to dancing.

If you ask him out to dance, he will hesitate at first but then go with you. He really loves to make you happy.

When it comes to line dancing, he’s a little on the clumsy side at first. But once he’s been on the floor a few more times with you, he’ll lose his shyness and do his thing. He really is a cutie!

If you’re expecting him to ask you out to dance, don’t take it personal if he doesn’t. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. He’s just really scared he’ll mess up and embarrass you and him. Reassure the sweetheart and he’s good to go.

His favorite dance is the one where he can hold you close, your head against his chest. He doesn’t show off much or move around a lot.

In fact, just swaying back and forth will do just fine. One hand holding yours, the other on your back, his cheek pressed against your head.

Maybe, if he thinks he can do it and you want to, he’ll twirl you around slowly. He doesn’t want you to trip.

Favorite song to dance to? A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. Call it cheesy but he loves it. May or may not have heard it only after watching Breaking Dawn Part 1 from the Twilight Series.

At the end of the song, he will look into your eyes, gently brush your cheek and kiss your nose.

Pidge

Pidge is actually a pretty good dance partner, preferably a little less close than the other paladins.

She prefers a little more room to dance to, not necessarily touching. Maybe every now and then, but it’s rare.

She might come up to ask you to dance or you can ask her yourself. Point is, there’s no shame who goes to ask.

As stated before, Pidge dances a little different, more on the dubstep side but eh, it’s Pidge. She can pull it off.

Pidge LOVES The Chainsmokers! Literally. She can’t choose between Don’t Let Me Down or Something Just Like This.

Pidge might hold your hand, just to move with the music. But, who are we kidding? She likes to hold your hand. Loves it just as much as The Chainsmokers.

If she feels like being a little more touchy-feely, she might pick a slow, love song to dance with you. Our July in the Rain by He is We is her choice to dance with you, surprisingly.

At the end, it gets a little awkward, especially after listening to Chainsmokers. Do you kiss on the forehead? On the cheeks? Nose? Lips? 

You settle with a small peck on the cheek, something simple and innocent. Protect Pidge/Katie at all cost!

Keith

This guy... oh my g. This emo, Texan guy “can not dance or sing.“ Yeah right, Keith. He can do Achy Breaky Heart P E R F E C T L Y!

When it comes to dancing, line dancing (Achy Breaky Heart, Boots Scoot ‘n Boogie, Merry Go Round) is his solo thing. He’s the last one on the dance floor when the song starts, last one when it’s over. He does not have long legs for no reason!

Dancing with you? Total 180. He will wrap his arms around you and two step his way into making this night the best one for you yet.

He probably has a secret playlist of country song to dance to. His top choice will be between I Don’t Dance by Lee Brice or Your Man by Josh Turner.

If you don’t know how to two step, don’t fret. He will teach you. It is really easy to pick up.

If he starts to sing, do not, no matter how much you want to, DO NOT say anything! If you say something about it, that will be the last time he will sing in front of you.

Don’t ask him where he learned to dance. He won’t tell you. He likes to go to dance halls and observe everyone. Yes, he even wore red flannel and cowboy boots.

If you know how to Two Step, awesome! He will probably try to dance a little more out there, twirling you around, maybe dipping you. Nothing way, way, WAY out there. This isn’t Dancing with the Stars, Lance!

After the final spin and dip, he sort of holds you there, looking at you before leaning in to kiss you gently.

Shiro

Shiro is the mighty leader of Voltron and apparently, that’s not the only thing he is good at leading.

Dancing. Takashi Shirogane can dance. And I don’t mean cute, little high-school type dances. I mean, actually dancing. Think Step Up 3D Broken Tango Scene. Bust Your Windows by Jazmine Sullivan is his favorite song, no questions asked. And yes, masks will be worn.

This man knows how to dance thanks to having to go to military galas and such. He loves to dance and hold you close.

His hand is on the base of the small of your back or shoulder blade, wherever it feels more comfortable. His other hand is holding your free hand at shoulder level. You can bet he has you as close as he can.

Expect a lot of spinning/twirling, both of you are spinning and twirling around each other. A lot of dipping and quick pull ups. He will hold your back inches from the ground and hold you there for a few seconds then bring you back up quickly, getting lost in your eyes.

Expect changing positions frequently when it comes to dancing. From face to face, twirl, your back to his chest. This includes hands and arms and legs. Legs will rub against each other, constantly.

He will lift you up and carry you, still dancing. Better not skip leg day. You need to keep your legs steady and straight.

His favorite move however, is when you and him are facing opposite directions, your inside arm crossing over his chest, resting on his shoulder while his inside arm is on your waist, both of you going around in a slow circle, faces close to each other.

Ending move? He hold the small of your back with one arm, the other secures the back of your thigh which is up as you dip backwards, bending at the waist, his own leg helping you keep steady with your back. The he lifts you back up in his arms slowly and presses his forehead against yours.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @hannars97!

One of the requests was for "really like stiles discovered kpop and drag derek with him" and, though my Kpop and Krock knowledge is a couple of years out of date (and I always tended towards Jpop and Jrock because of my job at Jrock Revolution... XD;;), it seemed like Hanna was excited for that particular prompt, so I tried my best and gave it a go! I'm crossing my fingers that you enjoy reading this story, Hanna, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season. <3

Read on AO3

*****

Words Fail & Music Speaks

+

Falling 이대로 falling for you 날 잡아줄 수 없어도 Falling 또 다시 falling for you 날 감싸줄 수 없나요 Falling like this, falling for you Even if you can’t catch me Falling once again, falling for you Can’t you embrace me? “Falling” – John Park

+

”Where words fail, music speaks.” - Hans Christian Andersen

+

The Stilinski household had once been a home filled with music: rock, pop, classical, Broadway, country—anything and everything was a possibility to be heard. Certain days tended to lean towards a particular style of music—Fridays were the most likely day of the week for Noah to drop by the house and find Claudia singing along to an old school country song, rolling pin clutched in one hand as a makeshift microphone while Sundays typically had Stiles bouncing around the living room and jumping from sofa to armchair to sofa again, headbanging and doing air guitar along to Metallica’s Enter Sandman album. It was a home rich in sounds, in lyrics, and varying vocal qualities and styles.

In various languages, as well:

Claudia introduced Stiles to her favorite Polish singers early on in his life, wanting to share her history, culture, and language with her son as much as possible: because of that, the amber-eyed boy grew up singing along to Marcin Rozynek, Magda Piskorczyk, Stanisław Sojka, Natalia Kukulska, and Irena Jarocka, using his favorite songs from each to slowly teach himself the language that his mother had grown up speaking with the rest of her family when she was his age.

Stiles had only managed a passing ability in Polish before his mother got sick and worsened under the onslaught of the frontotemporal dementia’s symptoms; after the diagnosis came in, the young boy had buckled down and studied for all he was worth, singing old lullabies that he had found on the internet to Claudia on the days her disease struck hardest—hoping, perhaps, that the familiarity of her first language would offer some comfort to his mother as she got worse and worse in the hospital, health slowly but surely spiraling into a decline.

The other side of the coin—the downside—in learning songs to sing and the language to speak to his mother in came as thus:

Noah and Claudia had known from an early age that something was off about their son. His energy tended to be in excess to the children around him and school was a chore for two particular reasons: either Stiles found it impossible to concentrate on the tasks assigned to him, becoming disruptive to the other students around him, or he focused so thoroughly on his assignments that it was difficult to coax him into moving to something new. Doctors were able to diagnose the signs early on and it was a constant and regular occurrence after that to try and find a medication and dosage amount that would work best with Stiles. A solution was eventually settled on—though no medication was one hundred percent perfect—and so Claudia had searched for supplements to include to help her son with his concentration and attention issues.

It wasn’t long after that the Stilinski matriarch discovered that music helped Stiles in unexpected ways; when Claudia ran foreign music in the background, Stiles was able to better concentrate—part of his mind focusing on the music and language, running along with it. But, because the words weren’t in English, they instead became a reassuring background noise to the boy, allowing most of his attention to actually shift to his schoolwork and other assignments given to him.

Claudia’s Polish records, cassettes, and CDs became a default to turn to, if only because her collection for that particular language was the largest, started when she was a little girl. Spanish came soon after: taught at school and the secondary language of California with Stiles the first one to the counter at the local panadería, rattling off their grocery list with a wide smile: pork and chicken tamales for their Wednesday dinner, pan de leche, conchas, and ensaïmada to eat at breakfast and as treats throughout the week (the conchas were always the first to go once Stiles got tall enough to reach the bread box that they were all stored in).

The downside to immersing himself in Polish to offer up a sort of comfort to Claudia as she lay sick and dying came when it became harder and harder to focus on homework with Natalia Kukulska running in the background—after all, now, Stiles was actually able to understand the lyrics that she sang. The same issue arose the further along in Spanish the boy got at school, vocabulary and conjugations gone over week after week, and though Stiles didn’t think that he’d ever be one hundred percent fluent in the language… he now knew enough to understand bits and pieces of the songs played on the radio.

After Claudia passed away, Stiles eventually gave up listening to either option, defaulting to classical music or instrument-focused electronica and club mixes to help him concentrate during extra long homework sessions or research binges. Unfortunately, the music genres were never as helpful as the Polish and Spanish songs were—the lack of vocals giving the boy’s mind an opportunity to drift without that extra safeguard to ensure he stayed on task; it wasn’t completely horrible—not as bad as what it could be—but… well, for quite a while, Stiles’ grades definitely took the brunt of that particular hit.

+

It wasn’t until years later that Stiles finally stumbled across a solution.

Literally.

The teen had been running various YouTube users’ playlist mixes in the background of his laptop while on his current supernaturally-prompted research extravaganza. The latest Big Bad wasn’t a creature that Stiles was able to find in the Argents’ beastiary despite several days of finetoothed combing, so turning to the internet was the next step when the usual tools finally ran dry.

He’d pulled up a playlist from a user that the whiskey-eyed teen typically relied on for ambient, background music, and things had been going well for the majority of the night: until the playlist switched to a new song, one that must have been recently added, and Stiles paused for a moment in his reading to shoot the YouTube tab a suspicious, furrowed look.

Korean began playing over the laptop’s speakers, and the teen huffed a quiet breath while switching over to the video platform website so that he could skip the song and move ahead to the next one.

The moment that Stiles clicked on the tab to see a young man perched on a large throne and wearing a black and white pinstriped suit, bright red hair flowing over the chair’s arms and to the floor, the teen’s eyebrows slowly began to creep up his forehead. The visuals didn’t do much to appeal to him—the scenes with the astronauts left him rather unimpressed—but the dirt scene, one that seemed to ooze post-apocalyptic setting? It intrigued Stiles enough to get him to stay and to continue watching despite the music genre not being what he typically enjoyed listening to as the autoplay selection shifted over to the next song… which ended up being another Korean pop song.

This song—called “Lucifer” and performed by a band called SHINee—had elements of electronica and pop that drew him in more thoroughly than the previous music video. It went without saying that the teen’s interest was piqued by a variety of new music styles, a language that he wasn’t too familiar with—Korean had never been one of the languages that Claudia had played for him when Stiles was young—and researching the newest supernatural threat took a pause while the teen got caught up in a new type of binge watching and listening.

Perhaps after forty-five minutes or so into the various videos that Stiles clicked, one after another, he finally came across a music video that made him pause: the song was older, probably recorded back in 2009, but the genre reminded the teen a lot of the old ballads and R&B songs that Claudia used to sing along to before she got sick. The song was called ”One” and was sung by a group called Dong Bang Shin Ki; looking back, Stiles was able to pinpoint that this was the exact moment when his interest shifted and perhaps turned a bit more serious: curiosity took precedent as the amber-eyed teen scooted closer to his desk, fully prepared and ready to dive more completely into this new thing that caught his attention.

From ”Rising Sun” (also from Dong Bang Shin Ki) to ”Passion” from a singer called SE7EN to a video called ”LA Song” from a guy who sometimes went by either Bi or Rain to ”Sorry Sorry” from a boyband with a ton of members that were called Super Junior to ”Eat You Up” from a pretty kickass female singer named BoA… the more Stiles explored, the more intrigued he became—and the more obvious it was that he preferred certain singers and groups over others, as well as certain time periods in what had been produced and released. (And when he eventually stumbled across Seo Taiji, EVE, and The TRAX, too…? The bottomless hole that was his typical research binge became that much deeper.)

The teen ended up staying up until dawn, ignoring the first blush of light that highlighted the horizon and slipped through his window in a fall of gold, and instead continued clicking from music video and performance—one after another—until Stiles’ dad yelled at him to start getting ready for school because otherwise he’d be late.

+

It was a pattern that quickly established itself as a regular one, and it didn’t take long before the teen was switching his music from the previously established instrument-based electronica and classical music to Kpop (and Krock, on occasion) playlists from YouTube users. He liked the older groups, the ones from 2008 and on—they typically had more of an R&B feel to their music, especially the ballads, and it made Stiles nostalgic for his mom (when that happened, the whiskey-eyed teen tended to lean more heavily towards listening to a singer called Eru).

Such was how Derek eventually stumbled upon Stiles: with the teen absently bopping his head along to Super Junior’s “MAMACITA” playing on low in the background while Stiles paged through another hunter family’s beastiary—given to him by Peter at the pack’s last meet-up, and the teen had been too intrigued at the chance to dive into another family’s records that he didn’t bother asking too many questions about how Derek’s uncle had managed to get his sneaky, sneaky hands on it.

The dichotomy—the unexpected sight of Stiles happily moving along to a song in another language—and what the Hale Alpha had been expecting was enough to make Derek pause at Stiles’ bedroom’s windowsill, and the older man’s expressive eyebrows slowly lowered in confusion as a pale gaze flickered from the oblivious teen to his laptop and back again.

“Do you even know what they’re saying?” the werewolf asked, pitching his voice loud enough for Stiles to hear over the beat of the music. In all honesty, Derek felt that he should have been surprised by finding the teen listening to what he was—but, then again, the Alpha had also stumbled across the cassette collection that Stiles kept in the Jeep. True enough, many of the tapes were legacies left to him from Claudia Stilinski… but a fair amount of the newer looking tapes had Stiles’ writing on them. And those tapes could be described as ‘eclectic’ at best.

“Nope. Do you?” the teen shot back without missing a beat, already alerted to Derek’s incoming visit by the proximity wards, and instead flipped the next page in the new beastiary. A creature that Stiles had never come across before—neither in the Argents’ records nor on the Redbull-fueled internet research binges—was this section’s Big Bad, and it took only moments before Stiles’ attention shifted from the bemused werewolf still perched on his windowsill to the book spread across his lap.

Stiles’ easy disregard sparked something within Derek’s chest—if the Alpha was truthful with no one but himself, at least he could admit within the shadowed protection of his mind that it was an emotion very close to jealousy that surged to ugly life—and the corner of his mouth twisted downwards.

“I do,” he answered in turn, and the burn softened back down to ambers as Stiles slowly blinked, obviously returning to the immediate here and now as he shifted his attention back to the waiting Alpha. Curiosity lit that amber gaze and, to further prove that he could do as he claimed, Derek tilted his head to the side to listen to the lyrics for a moment or two before translating aloud for Stiles’ benefit: “Why are you shutting your mouth right now? Did you decide to just go with the flow? Just say Shh!, then everything will calm down. Everyone keeps nagging. Were you expecting us to be Superman? This world is good enough to play in, right? If you do as you always did, go as you always went. There’s no way you’ll stick out and be hit by a hammer.”

“…oh,” came Stiles’ reply as the teen blinked once more and glanced towards his computer, a new appreciation at understanding a portion of the song softening the look in his eyes. “That’s… not what I was expecting. I like it, though.”

Drawn into the teen’s orbit as the moon drew the ocean’s to tide, Derek ducked the top of the pane and shifted more completely into the familiar warmth of Stiles’ bedroom. One step after another, and curiosity at this unexpected Stiles Trivia tidbit drew the older man to the other’s laptop. A single touch woke it to life—and it was then that Derek saw just how many Kpop playlists the teen had loaded and waiting to be switched over to. The eyebrows yet again traveled upwards over Derek’s forehead, and he poked around each one to see what it was that Stiles had managed to find and collect since the last time the ‘wolf had stopped by his room.

“Why’re you listening to all of this when you don’t understand it?” Derek eventually asked as he scrolled down a list of BoA’s songs that was… rather long.

Stiles remained silent for a long moment, tap-tap-tapping his pen against the curve of a pale, bared knee—and eventually offered up a one-shouldered shrug, Gallic and enigmatic in its lack of meaning. “It helps me concentrate,” the teen replied after a moment or two of Derek waiting, silent and expectant for any real sort of reply. “It was a trick that my mom used to do with different languages. I figured that I would give it a try with… this. It works, so… does it really matter why?”

The connection to a memory from a dead and gone family member—the tenseness along the line of Stiles’ spine, the slight hitch of his voice when he mentioned his mother: they were things that Derek still did himself when talking about the family that he’d lost; it didn’t matter if the loss was years past: some hurts just… didn’t heal.

Derek fell silent at that even as he continued to click through the teen’s playlists, taking note of various artists—seeing if there was a pattern to Stiles’ preferences (there was) and weighing, considering, an idea that slowly began to form along the edges of his mind. Vague and more of an outline of an idea than anything concrete, but… a possibility, a hint, a chance towards something.

“What’s your favorite song? I can translate it for you—if you’d like.”

Vulnerability softened the normally iron strength that filled Stiles’ caramel gaze, and the smile that the teen offered the ‘wolf was crooked and sulky-sweet with understanding and unspoken affection. “…okay,” he agreed, setting aside the bestiary to return to it once Derek was gone. “I’d like that, yeah.”

+

Stiles paused as he flipped open the screen for his laptop, confusion furrowing his brow at stumbling across two tickets—obviously concert tickets, though Stiles hadn’t bothered checking to see if any of his favorite bands and singers were on tour for perhaps two years now (no point, he’d always figured; you never knew when the latest monster flavor of the week would decide to rear its ugly head). So, that being the case, where had these come from…?

The teen flipped them over to see the front of the printed tickets, eyes going wide as he finally caught sight of what the concert was: The Korea Times Music Festival—pool tickets at the Hollywood Bowl with the date showing a little bit more than a month from now.

How…?

What?

…why.

(All pertinent questions that Stiles didn’t have the answer to—but desperately wanted.)

Glancing down to his computer’s keyboard, Stiles picked up the Post-It Note that had been stuck to the back of the topmost ticket, bright yellow slip of paper slipping away as he picked them up. Derek’s sloppy scrawl was immediately recognizable after too many years of notes left behind for Stiles to find in a variety of places (places typically geared towards pissing the teen off during the Cold War portions of their Alpha-Emissary relationship).

Feeling up to heading down to SoCal next month to see some of your bands perform live?

“You grade-A asshole,” Stiles muttered around a bright, happy laugh—corner of his mouth curling upwards into a stupidly sappy grin, dimples on display for anyone to see—and the boy didn’t bother trying to fight against the supernova strength flare of relief and glee and want that exploded to life within the confines of Stiles’ chest as he read the note from Derek.

The answer, when Stiles sent it via text, was simple enough:

I totally am! But only if you’re coming with me, O Alpha Mine. ;)

::fin::

[aili]

Music Newsletter 11 / Happy Valentine’s Day 2017

Welcome to the 11th Music Newsletter!

Short intro for the newbies - I love music. I love sharing music with other people. In college I started a "music newsletter" email with some playlists (aka mixtapes) I've made and some song/band recommendations. Why Valentine's Day? Because I think this day should be about love in many ways - including for music!

That brings us to today - the first Valentine's Day mixtape I put together was actually a physical mix CD that I mailed to my home friends while I was away at college. That was in 2008. A lot has changed since then, but my love of music has not. While I feel sometimes too busy or too old or too out of touch to know what I'm even talking about, I hope you'll get some enjoyment out of this - as much as I've been enjoying listening to these songs and picking them for you!

I also have an email listserv with a special music bonus for anyone interested, please DM me to get on the list.

Click here to play Valentine's Day 2017 on Spotify!

1.) "Best to You" - Blood Orange

Starting off this year's mixtape with an incredible artist and song featuring singer Empress Of. Blood Orange is the project of Dev Hynes, who was a member of the British band Test Icicles. He's a songwriter and producer with a pretty epic list of artists on his resume, including Solange, Florence Welch, and Kylie Minogue. His album released last year, Freetown Sound, was a frequent flyer on the best of year lists and is mainly an R&B project featuring songs speaking out on prominent social justice issues.

2.) "Alaska" - Maggie Rogers

Thanks to my sister in law Anna for introducing me to Maggie Rogers, an indie singer-songwriter who's chart-climbing songs have crossed over into pop music's to-watch list. After presenting this track to Pharrell in her senior master class at NYU, their interaction went viral as he praised her work as something unheard before. Check out the video here.

3.) "I Need a Forest Fire" - James Blake feat. Bon Iver

While I enjoyed both Bon Iver and James Blake's latest albums released last year, it was their duo that seemed to encapsulate the sound growth I was looking for by both artists. This is, in my opinion, the best song either of them released last year. Together, the two artists were able to create something that apart was somehow a bit lacking. The combination of their voices is something not to miss.

4.) "Mothers" - Daughter

A beautiful and haunting song from the perspective of a mother on the drain, physically and emotionally, of having a child. The push/pull of loss and love is strong over the entire album, Not To Disappear, and lead singer/songwriter Elena Tonra has discussed the brutal and harsh themes that frequent her album and how she learned to uncensor herself from those sad places.

5.) "Strangers" - Psychic Twin

The title of this song along with the synths would make this a perfect addition to the Stranger Things TV soundtrack, don't you think? After Erin Fein's divorce, her debut album appropriately named Strange Diary, focuses her energy and emotions into a cohesive dark pop album.

6.) "Your Best American Girl" - Mitski

Mitski's fourth album, Puberty 2, is the one that sprang her to critical acclaim and popular success, with her punk-rock music discussing culture, race, identity, and belonging. This song in particular is poignant in a scene that doesn't hold much diversity in its popular spaces. Consistently selling out live shows and having a witty online presence, Mitski is not one to miss.

7.) "Foulbrood" - Two Inch Astronaut

Hailing from my hometown of Silver Spring, Maryland (with one member attending my high school), this band seriously caught my attention this year. There's something to be said about a specific D.C. area rock that is reminiscent of this kind of post-punk sound. One of the greatest influences of this sound was Ian MacKaye, co-founder Dischord, the label Two Inch Astronaut is on and the frontman of bands like Fugazi and Minor Threat. A lot of the local bands growing up had this kind of influence, but Two Inch Astronaut seems to get it right in a way that is all at once nostalgic of Maryland high school basement parties and paving the way for an innovative kind of genre-bending sound all together. Buy their latest album, Personal Life, here.

8.) "(I'd Rather Be) Anywhere But Here" - Honeyblood

Discovering Honeyblood last year was one of those moments where I instantly connected to their music and they catapulted to become one of my favorite bands. Honeyblood is a Scottish duo that could be described as a darker version of early Best Coast. I was lucky enough to see them live and the drummer, Cat Myers, is incredible. Their latest album, titled Babes Never Die, was released last year.

9.) "It Hurts Until It Doesn't" - Mothers

I debated putting Mothers' song "Daughter" on this playlist just to confuse everyone (see #4), but this song is just too good to ignore. The song comes to a slow down and instrumental build up about 3 minutes in that completely changes the tone but somehow manages to tell a consistent story. Mothers latest album When You Walk A Long Distance You Are Tired was released last year.

10.) "Never Meant" - American Football

I was too young to know the types of bands like American Football - the bands that a lot of people 5-10 years older than me consider real emo. Before heavy eyeliner and whining vocals and power chords came bands like American Football with their twinkly guitars and emotive lyrics. American Football and other 90's emo pioneers made punk risky by talking more openly about their feelings and they ended up creating incredible music because of it. This album is considered a classic among the 90's emo genre, and to fans surprise, the band released a new album last year, also self-titled, which can be found here. This song evokes a nostalgia for me because suddenly a lot of emo bands I liked in high school make sense because I can see how they were influenced to make the music the way they did.

11.) "Clay" - HANA

Hana is one of Grimes (Claire Boucher's) best friends and toured with her assisting on instruments and vocals this past year. Along with having a captivating and beautifully clear soprano voice, Hana brings out a lovelier, sweet side of nostalgic pop reminiscent of Carly Rae Jepsen.

12.) "Coconut Crab" - TTNG

This math rock song caught my attention because it evokes lo-fi indie surf rock style with some emo influences. TTNG has been around since 2004 and are from the U.K. Their latest full-length, Disappointment Island, was released last year.

13.) "Shut Up Kiss Me" - Angel Olsen

Angel Olsen's latest album, My Woman, topped charts and made many best of 2016's lists. The album was a turn from her previously labeled country-folk music into something she feels fits her personality and voice more.

14.) "Life Crisis" - River Whyless

A indie-folk pop group from Asheville, North Carolina that toured with Blind Pilot. Live in concert, lead singer Halli Anderson discussed how this song was written in part based on a bad break-up after a boyfriend went to visit his ex in NYC while she paced back in forth back home in Asheville. Check out a live performance of the song through NPR's Tiny Desk Concert, including creative choices such as using a typewriter for percussion here.

15.) "Jellyfish" - Laura Stevenson

I was able to see Laura Stevenson open for the Hold Steady in December which was so fun. Laura grew up on Long Island and did keys and vocals for Bomb the Music Industry. Jellyfish was released on the 2015 album, Cocksure.

16.) "Evening / Morning" - Bombay Bicycle Club

Throwback Tuesday can be dedicated to this song by Bombay Bicycle Club. An English indie rock band together since 2005, they consistently release rock bangers. This particular song was actually the first single they ever released. Currently, the band has essentially broken up, with the members saying they want to work on solo projects. Bassist Ed Nash released his solo album The Pace of the Passing earlier this year.

17.) "Black Leaf" - John Paul White

I have a deep love for the Civil Wars, a folk/country/americana duo consisting of John Paul White and Joy Williams. Like most of their fans, I was devastated to learn of their messy, drawn-out break-up official in 2014. They were two excellent artists who met through a musician's workshop and just seemed to click, winning four Grammys in their short time together. Their chemistry was electric, as can be viewed in their live videos like this one or this one. The thing was, they were both married. To other people. Joy's husband was their band manager. John's wife was at home in Alabama with their children. We may never know if a traditional affair happened, but it appeared that in one way or another, at least an emotional rift had opened. After their break-up, Joy Williams was fairly vocal with her feelings, explaining in interviews that "irreconcilable differences" were much more complicated than appeared on the surface. John Paul White was silent. He returned last year with an incredible solo album, Beulah, and rocketed back into success. While he remained silent in interviews about his former Civil Wars partner, almost like a divorced couple with the giant pink elephant in the room, he may have written about it. The lyrics on his album seem to me to easily be interpreted as the complicated emotions he felt while simultaneously losing Joy as a musical partner and friend, and potentially losing his wife for his lack of attention and focus on his family. It's important to note that John Paul White has said himself that his lyrics are meant for fans to interpret more into their own lives, than his. Privacy is important to him, and while we don't know what really happened between Joy and John Paul, maybe we can hope that just like in their song, 20 years from now we could see some sort of reconciliation.

18.) "No Way Out" - Warpaint

Warpaint are from Los Angeles and released their latest album, Heads Up, last year. Their sound is dreamy and especially this song features harmonic reverb as a major theme.

19.) "Left Handed Kisses" - Andrew Bird feat. Fiona Apple

Andrew Bird's feature with Fiona Apple is pretty much perfect. He is one of the most talented contemporary musicians and with his 2016 album, Are You Serious, he gets a little more personal, including writing a love song for his wife (swoon!). In an interview with NPR, he discussed major life changes - including marriage, a child, and his wife's battle with cancer.

20.) "Old Friends" - Pinegrove

Emo is making a comeback. While I've been spending time attending emo/pop punk live band karaoke events, Emo Night BK and Emo Nite LA have been touring the country with sold out events. I've been trying to reflect on this re-popularization of the genre of early to mid-00s bands that were made fun of and dismissed. My teenage years thrived on emo. The darkest lyrics spoke to me in a time when depression wasn't really talked about in the mainstream. Now, it does feel a bit silly to scream along to the same intense lyrics that I once cried over, but at the same time there is a sense of nostalgia. As a very drunk Adam Lazarra of Taking Back Sunday told the crowd at the 2015 Taste of Chaos tour, "I was there when you smoked your first cigarette."

But there's more to emo than 40-something majority white dudes screaming about their broken hearts. There are bands that hold a sense of authenticity and talent coming from 90s punk and post-punk influences.

Pinegrove is a band bringing it back to the start. A cross between the new, indie sound and the older, 90s/early 00s emo authenticity. Pinegrove is an incredibly unique band that not only hits indie and emo, but crosses over into folk and americana as well. This blending of genres is what is making artists really begin to stand out to me, as we cross over into the second half of this decade. Check out their 2016 album, Cardinal, here.

21.) "Radio" - Sylvan Esso

I always put a lot of thought into the order of songs on my playlist. What I love about this year's playlist is that Sylvan Esso's "Radio" can perfectly transition back into the first song on the playlist. So make sure your repeat all buttons are on, and I hope you've enjoyed this year's Valentine's Day newsletter!

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SPOTIFY

Don't forget to subscribe to my playlists on Spotify! And if you don't have Spotify yet, get on that shit, it's awesome. Here is the link to listen to this year's mixtape on Spotify

I try to add new songs at least once a week to this playlist. What I'm currently listening to a lot (updated frequently): currently lovin' (updated freq)

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I hope you guys enjoy the new music and feel free to send me recommendations of anything you like!

<3 aili

Previous Mixtapes:

Autumn Love Spotify

Copenhagen Spotify 

Philadephia Spotify

New Crime Spotify

The City Spotify

Drive Spotify

VDay 2012 Spotify

King's Myth Spotify

Hold On Spotify

Vday 2013 Spotify

Vday 2014 Spotify

Vday 2015 Spotify

Vday 2016 Spotify

[elliothier]

hmm… if you're making a playlist maybe Sleep With My Enemies by Emika, Parentheses by The Blow, Ten Years by The Tiny (maybe, not sure), Too Heavy a Burden (also) by The Tiny (for an incredibly angsty take), What Happened by Emilie & Ogden (also rather angsty), Astronaut by Amanda Palmer, and Après Moi, End of Thought, and Black and White, all by Regina Spektor. None of those work quite as well though.

Finally managed to give them all a listen, this below I just kind of wrote while I was listening to them, I don’t even remember what I wrote yesterday evening (which is the first half of the songs) but boy the second half had some pain in there man, ow

Emika - Sleep With My EnemiesThis one is pretty interesting actually, now I’m just imagining Astra having affairs with many of her enemies omg. It fits loosely, I suppose, the whole song feels a little abstract to me tbh lol

The Blow - ParenthesesAll the crying that’s mentioned, oh god, there’s some hurt in here, but it’s a comfort song for them. I mean, they both have their grief, and this is such a ‘we’re each other’s safe haven’ song, yes, this works, I like this

The Tiny - Ten YearsSheesh this was hard to find, on youtube all I got were tiny house videos lmao, bless spotify. I can see how you’re not sure about that one, it’s a very loose fit, only because Non is involved (or Maxwell, if you want to go Stalker!Astra lol) I must admit I’m not much a fan of their sound, and because the first video I saw was an undertale AMV I now associate her voice with a goat and it’s just… not helping lol

The Tiny - Too Heavy a BurdenTHIS IS 100% ASTRA POV ANGST ANON WHY DID YOU DO THIS IT HURTS T_T

Emilie & Ogden - What HappenedOW! Rude! FOR THE RECORD THAT WAS ALREADY TYPED BEFORE THE BACKSTABBING PART NOW I’M JUST IN PAIN ANON WHY it’s perfect

Amanda Palmer - AstronautOkay I get feels here too, shit. The instrumentals are much appreciated too, more pace, I love this 💚 Even though it kind of really hurts, but this is the kind of pain I can deal with, this is the Appropriate Amount Of Pain for this ship, if that makes sense lol

Regina Spektor - Après MoiWhat IS this, it’s interesting is what it is, three languages included. I feel like this is Alex’s pov because of the Russian part, because otherwise it could work for both of them. I swear, a character speaks 1 word in a different language and I go ‘yep they speak that now’. God, it’s actually kind of angsty, you could switch povs and oh god yes I can see it ouch

Regina Spektor - End of ThoughtOh god why does this fit, Yikes. It’s good in a way that hurts me for some reason and I can’t speak properly, that’s really good

Regina Spektor - Black and WhiteOh no now I’m imagining Alex with a picture of Astra in her hands post-kill, curled on the floor against the door and crying. It might be only a loose fit but the feels are real yIKES

So there’s that omfg, thank you so much for sending these, they are definitely not ones I would have thought of myself. The actual playlist really only had Chyler and Laura singing so far, but I do have two songs for Alex herself. Rise (originally Katy Perry’s, but I prefer the rock version by Fame On Fire) and Turn It Up (it’s a nightcore version so idk by who) for the younger version of her. And for Astra I always get a lot of feels when I listen to The Grey, by Icon For Hire. I already had that in my regular music and it just… hit me lol