#this is one of the most beautiful songs i've ever heard in my life you might wanna check it out

[shima-draws]

JVKE’s this is what ___ feels like album has me feeling some sort of way

[octoberautumnbox]

Orange-Tinted Sunset

Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:

Word count: 2.6k

a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao

~~~

The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.

Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 

She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 

And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she’s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 

All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 

Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 

“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 

“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 

“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 

~~~

It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 

“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 

You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 

“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 

“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 

Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.

“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”

“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.

On the other hand…

~~~

“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”

The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.

“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”

She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 

“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.

You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 

“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 

It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?

~~~

It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  

“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 

It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 

“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 

It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 

“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 

It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”

~~~

The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 

A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 

Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 

“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.

The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 

You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…

~~~

You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 

hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM

it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM

I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM

you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM

*2 missed calls*

this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM

*2 missed calls*

you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM

*1 missed call*

wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM

*4 missed calls*

is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM

let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM

*2 missed calls*

just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM

*8 missed calls*

don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM

*1 missed call*

fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM

don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM

The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.

You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.

“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 

They never meet. 

~~~

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Harry Belafonte (Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun)—one of my favorite things in the world when I'm sad is kicking back and listening to him and Danny Kaye singing "Hava Nagila" together. Or who can forget this man singing the Banana Boat song with the Muppets?? immensely talented, a powerful fighter for civil rights and humanitarian causes his whole life, if you have any remaining doubts PLEASE look at the following pics [clips and pics attached below]

Buster Keaton (The General, The Navigator, Sherlock Jr.)—For me Buster’s hotness comes not just from his physical beauty but in the constant surprise and contradictions of the man, he’s simultaneously delicate/rough, feminine/masculine, confident/vulnerable, 5foot5 pretty face with an unexpectedly deep voice, at first glance you think oh he’s a cute little thing and then he takes his top off and it’s Superman abs underneath. He was intensely shy in social situations but had no hesitation in jumping off the top of a building. He famously never smiled on screen* but he exudes warmth and joy and laughter. He created some of the most beautiful, intelligent movies ever made but refused to acknowledge his own genius and talent as an artist, instead maintaining that all he wanted to do was make people laugh. If he was here in reality competing in this poll he would give it 100% but he would not be at all bothered if he didn’t win. And that’s why he’s the hottest vintage man. A vote for Buster is a vote for all that is good and decent in the world 💕 (*he did smile on camera occasionally despite his own assertions to the contrary 😄)

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Buster Keaton propaganda:

"Just look at his freaking face...."

This entire Tumblr page was submitted

This post

This video

"And for those who have never heard it, here’s his lovely voice in action: link"

Submitted: Link to Buster Keaton car stunts

Submitted: BK fancam

Submitted: quotes about BK video compilation

"Ripped body, gorgeous unique face, beautiful personality too"

Harry Belafonte propaganda:

"Now let me say this about the songs of the Caribbean - almost all black music is deeply rooted in metaphor. The only way that we could speak to the pain and anguish of our experiences was often through how we codified our stories in the songs that we sang. And when I sing the 'Banana Boat Song,' the song is a work song. It's about men who sweat all day long, and they are underpaid, and they're begging the tallyman to come and give them an honest count - counting the bananas that I've picked, so I can be paid. And sometimes, when they couldn't get money, they'll give them a drink of rum. There's a lyric in the song that says, 'Work all night on a drink of rum.' People sing and delight and dance and love it, but they don't really understand unless they study the song that they're singing a work song, a song of rebellion." -Harry Belafonte

[syd-vixious]

2004 poto x reader prompt: you gotta write something about erik learning to be comfortable w his natural hair. 2004 erik is one of the few eriks that isn’t balding so i’m so surprised no one commented more on how reader not just accepts him being maskless but being wigless too. playing with his hair? 🥺🥺

A/N: My first Erik request!! I'm honestly so happy that I've been getting requests for this delicious man. Like I did in my earlier post, I've been on a poto hyperfixation recently. It's to the point where I'm planning on being the Phantom for halloween this year lol. Anyway, thank you anon for the request and I hope it's to your liking!

Insecurities

Summary: Erik keeps an eye on you at all times when he cannot be near. But, how will he feel about himself when he observes you helping other men with their luscious hair on their “perfect” scalp.

-------------------------------------

It was late at night at the Palais Garnier. Most of the actors, dancers, and crew have already head to bed for the night or were in the process of said task. You took the time to slip away from the prying eyes of the world above, heading to one of the secret entrances that led to the catacombs below the opera house.

After a tiring day of rehearsals, you longed to be in the comforting arms of your darling. As you hurriedly headed down the steps to where he resided, you were caught off guard by the silence. Normally, especially if Erik knew you would be arriving, he would be either playing his magnificent organ or singing with his velvet-laced voice. Concern etching itself to your features, you continued to make your way to his sanctuary.

Once you arrived, you were surprised to see him absent from his spot where he would wait for you. "Erik, dear? Are you here?" you paused for a moment, waiting for a response.

Walking to where his bed was located, you saw the dark curtains drawn and heard the music box playing from the makeshift bedroom. With gentle steps, you entered and saw Erik holding a handheld mirror, his Phantom wig and mask placed upon his head.

You stepped behind him, softly placing your hands upon his shoulders as you gaze at his reflection. "What bothers you, my love?" you asked, worry lacing your tone.

With a huff, he placed the mirror down, standing up and walking out of the room, "It is nothing for you to be concerned about." he inclined in a cold tone.

You followed him back out to the main area, watching him sit down at his organ, trying to find a piece to play that might help whatever thoughts are racing through his mind at the moment. You gave a soft sigh and crouched beside him.

"Erik, darling, I know when something is troubling you. Please, tell me what is flowing through your beautiful mind at this moment." You reached up towards his mask, causing him to flinch and catch your wrist the moment your fingertips grazed the surface.

When his misty eyes met your own, he sighed, "How do you even bare to glance at me?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What ever do you mean?"

He let go of your wrist, bringing his hand back up to his face to remove his wig and mask to expose his true features underneath. "How could you want to glance at this hellish gargoyle each day and decide not to choose someone else? Someone less deformed, someone who wasn't a mistake made by God?"

Your face went from confusion to sorrow, feeling his pain and insecurities that laced his words. You took his hand, standing him up and guiding him back to the bedroom area. Taking a seat and patting the empty space beside you, silently asking him to join you.

He complied, facing you with confusion in his eyes.

With a loving gaze, you held his face gently, "Erik, my love, my muse... I speak to you every day to be with you. I join you in your song to hear you. I lay with you each night to feel you. You are the most important thing in my life. You were, by no means, a mistake from God. You were a gift, a blessing that I am overjoyed to have met each and every day."

You began to caress the deformed side of his face tenderly, "So tell me, what bothers your heart, my angel?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch before speaking. "I saw you with some of those bastard men today. You were helping them style their perfect hair on their perfect scalps. Then you come here just to be around this disappointing beast that lies before you."

You frown, upset that the events of today were bothering him this much. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead, placing your own against it after. "My sweet, I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. The hairdresser for rehearsal did not arrive today so they had me take her place for the time being."

With a soft caress, you combed your hands through his hair, making sure to be gentle as to not hurt him. "It doesn't matter how those men look in physical appearance, it means nothing to me."

You moved his head to rest on your chest as you held him, "The amount of hair on your beautiful head does not matter to me. Besides, my love, your hair is softer than the finest of silk. I love you for who you are, Erik."

His voice hitched as tears soaked your chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You placed a kiss on his head, holding him close to you.

"I love you. My angel, my muse, my Y/n."

[cheeseceli]

I'll be waiting

Pairing: idol Bang Chan × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, friends to potential lovers, fic (1.6k words)

Prompt: "Even ten years from now, if you haven't found somebody I promise I'll be around. Tell me when you're ready. I'm waiting"

Warnings: for a short moment there's a bit of unrequited love, happy ending tho. Mentions of insecurity back to the trainee days.

A/n: the longest fic I've ever done, I'm kinda proud of it ngl

Patience might be Chan's biggest virtue, he thinks to himself. By seeing where he's right now and where he was ten years ago, he smiles. He couldn't agree more with that statement.

2014

He still remembers the first time he saw you.

Monthly evaluation. At this point, Chan should already be used to this whole process of the trainee life. However, that day felt particularly depressing to him. Hopeless, he would say.

He had found out that JYP was about to debut a new group. A girl group. And as much as Bang Chan tried to be completely happy for his friends who could finally try and debut, he had to admit he was somewhat jealous. Four years of training and he felt like he was heading towards nowhere.

Still, he tried to practice. He sang the song he would showcase so many times he reached the point of not even feeling the words leaving his mouth. He was so lost he also didn't notice the presence of someone else in the practice room. That is, until you clapped.

Chan turned his head towards you, low-key surprised. He recognised you as the child of one of the Got7's staff. He couldn't remember your name though. He doubted he even heard it at all.

"Sorry" you finally spoke. Your voice was pretty "I'm looking for my dad. Your voice is very beautiful though. You're doing well." And with a thumbs up you went away.

Chan couldn't help but laugh. Now that was random. He could barely process what happened. But you complimented him. It had been a while since he last heard a genuine compliment.

Somewhere inside his mind, he repeated his words nonstop, filling him with motivation and hope. He also was trying to remember to ask your name later.

2016

He did remember to ask your name after all. Y/n L/n. The pronunciation of your name was beautiful, almost like a melody. Honestly, after two years of knowing you, he could affirm that your existence itself was like a sweet melody.

You both became friends, good ones at that. He also found himself developing feelings for you. That was the saddest part of it all in his opinion.

Even though he hadn't known you for so long, he couldn't see life without you. To live without your horrible jokes (that he always found funny), without your sunshine-like personality (even though most people wouldn't describe you like that. Maybe you were his personal dose of light) felt like a nightmare.

However, it felt a bit cruel that he needed to live like that. He wanted to be an idol. You were the one who was his biggest incentive. Then why, to have a romance with you, could bring problems to his career? It was almost as if destiny liked to make chan suffer.

Pick one.

Happily, Chan was patient. So patient that he decided to wait for you as long as needed. He had hopes that any time now, you would come to him. And he would be ready.

Meanwhile, he focused on becoming an idol. He couldn't give up now, especially given the fact that he knew you'd be in the front row, cheering for him louder than everyone else.

2018

He kept his promise: he followed his dream, finally achieving the so exciting debut, and still waited for you, his crush developing into the most sincere love he ever felt.

However, you had other plans. Of course, you were still there for him. You were probably the one who got the happiest with the results of the survival show. You spent countless nights with him on the practice room and in the studio. You were seeing his dream come true in first hand.

But this time, there was someone else besides you: your current boyfriend. Chan really doesn't know why he didn't think this could've happened. Of course, you were dating. You were smart, beautiful and had so much love to give. Someone else would've fallen for you at some point. And it was unfair of him to expect you to be single, waiting for an empty promise.

The saddest part of it was that your boyfriend was a nice guy. It was clear he loved you. He even made an effort to love everyone who you loved, including Chan himself. You were happy around him.

Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. Chan got the job, you got someone to love - someone who could adore you without being scared of the media - and you both still got each other in the end.

Maybe that was what Chan could have. It's okay, right?

2020

The downfall of Chan's patience at last.

Although you both were still as close as you always were, life was leading each of you in your own direction.

You had a job, he had a job. You had your friends, he had his members. You had your own house, he had the dorms. You had your boyfriend, he didn't have a partner. But it was okay because he didn't even have the time after all.

Still, he tried to fall for someone else during this period. Being in this industry for two years now, he had the opportunity to meet a lot of people. Some fancied him, some tried to take a step further in a somewhat relationship. Some even wanted to just have fun. Chan swears he tried to give in most of the time.

Needless to say he failed at every try. He couldn't come close to someone without wishing it was you instead. His short answers were compared to how sweetly he talked to you. He didn't even bother to call people or have long conversations. He knew it was only a matter of time until his mind started the undesired comparison.

Maybe it was what the job required. Maybe it was because of his lack of time. Han disagrees though. Chan remembers how his friend insisted on the fact that his leader wouldn't even try with other people. But it wasn't his fault either, as it was a subconscious thing. Chan's mind was still wrapped around you. And his heart wanted to disagree, but it all goes down the moment he finds out you and your boyfriend, now your ex, had broken up.

Although he tried hard to deny, he couldn't help but still wait for you. No matter if there was a light at the end of the tunnel or if it was only darkness. He would wait.

2022

Something in your brain has switched, and Bang Chan can't say he really liked the difference.

Of course, you were still the greatest person he ever met. You were still his sunshine. But it seemed like you were tired. Your conception of life and love wasn't as bright as it once was and Chan couldn't help but feel worried about it.

For him, who has loved you deeply for over eight years now, to see you giving yourself less credit and affection hurt him. He doesn't know why and when it happened, but your brain was trying to shut down all genuine feelings one could offer to you. You thought you were, maybe, undeserving of it all.

Honestly, to see you slowly losing your light has wounded Chan way more than all his past experiences: from his fear of failure to his disappointment upon meeting your ex boyfriend. Almost as an instinct,he tried to solve the situation. This time, patience wouldn't do.

Without even noticing, he started to love you more. To actually show you how he cared for you, to put his feelings into words and actions. At first, your heart tried to deny any possible affection, but it soon realised it wasn't possible. Not when Chan didn't even hesitate on showing the entire world how you were worthy of love. And not once he showed it as a challenge or a burden. He was by your side, and he never made it seem hard.

The best part of it all was that none of you noticed it. He started to open up to you to try and protect you,and you opened up to him in order to heal and protect his feelings. Maybe that was patience finally showing itself as a virtue.

2024

Ten years later, it finally happened.

Honestly, Chan was still a bit suspicious. There was no way he was actually seeing this, right? Maybe he was becoming delusional after all. Maybe he started to hallucinate because of his desires. But at the same time, it felt too real.

The way you looked at him, that is. It was just a normal conversation between old friends. Between gossips and laughs, there was absolutely no reason for you to look at him like this. So lost in thought, with this shimmer in your eyes that Chan knew way too well. He knew it because he had it too.

It was love. Not the one nurtured by friends or family. The one shared just between lovers. And he was so sure of it because he knew he looked at you in the exact same way you were looking at him right now.

He smiles. For a moment, you're a bit lost, wondering if you lost a joke or an important moment. That, however, makes him laugh. He couldn't believe he just saw you fall in love on the first row.

Ah, he's been patient. Now, he can't wait for you to realise what just happened. Either way, he knows with a smile on his face that he'll be waiting for you.

I promise I'll be around.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: summer with you

Thank you for reading <3 let me know what you think about it!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143

Dividers by @dollywons

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

[artistsfuneral]

Jaskier meets Death at a forked path. He has never seen them in person before, their face - although incredible kind looking - is not one he's familiar with and yet he instinctively knows who is in front of him.

It's quite the idyllic picture to be honest. The path Jaskier has been following for the past few hours is lined with rough stone walls, the ones that are keeping flocks of sheep from straying too far. The sun is out and shining through the tree's leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows on the fresh grass. Death sits under one such dancing shadow-patch, surrounded by napping sheep. Their left hand is idly petting the spotted fur of a guardian dog, with their right, they're waving Jaskier over to join them.

He silently wonders if he should be scared. Others certainly would be terrified upon seeing Death waiting for them, but Jaskier has always been easily intrigued. Besides, Death is hardly looming over him, it's more like they're waiting for him - like one may wait for an old friend. It could be a trick of course, he muses as he walks over to where Death is sitting, then again it feels like the two of them could have met many, many times before and in much worse situations than this. So who is Jaskier to question Death?

The closer he gets the more he is able to take in. They're tall - taller than anyone he's met before, Jaskier thinks - and incredibly pretty. Not in the perfectly manicured kind of pretty, like some of the most beautiful darlings at court tend to be. No, Death carries a natural loveliness that can only be found and never created, like a special constellation of freckles, an off-center nose, or a small gap between your teeth. Death is everyone Jaskier ever sung of combined in one person, which makes him wonder if they always look like this or if they changed their appearance to please Jaskier's eyes specifically. If the latter, he'd surely feel flattered.

"Come sit with me, sweetheart," Death says and Jaskier is delighted to hear their voice. It's a very nice voice. He wants to hear Death laugh, he realizes as he sinks down next to them on the grass. Their eyes meet his and Death sends him the kindest smile, "It's been a while since I've seen you, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you happy and healthy." Jaskier grins, because what a funny thing for Death to say, but he can hear the honesty in their words. "Oh you know, just the usual aches and pains of my slowly progressing age. Nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before, I'm sure," Jaskier happily chatters back in the same familiar tone. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He asks and reaches for his pack. Might as well take his lunch break now, while the fruit he bought earlier this day are still fresh. Death answers his question with an agreeing hum and oh yes, Jaskier might just fall in love with them right then and there.

He focuses on his lunch and wills his foolish heart to calm. "Would you like some?" he asks Death, because his Mama raised him well and eating alone is never quite as enjoyable as sharing a meal. Death looks at him with amusement in their eyes. "I can not eat, but I appreciate the gesture."

Jaskier sighs, "What a pity."

"A small price to pay for a life like mine."

"You're alive?"

"I am here, am I not?"

He looks at Death wide eyed, a hundred thoughts stumbling through his mind at the same time. "I have so many questions."

"And I have a favor to ask of you, sweetheart," Death retords not unkindly. Throughout their short conversation the amusement never quite left their eyes and while Jaskier would normally feel patronized by such a look he somehow knows that Death is simply enjoying his company.

"Are we doing this right? Doesn't this whole asking for a favor thing usually go the other way around?" Death laughs and Jaskier's heart does a little jump, his fingers itch to write a new song. "You read too much, sweetheart."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as reading too much."

"The words of a scholar and a poet."

"At your service."

"Of course. I always get what I want," Death says knowingly, shoving yet another metaphorical box of Pontar towards Jaskier. Lucky for him he has long since learned to not think about these kind of things too much. It does feel a little bit like Death tricked him, though he loves a good repartee. "I have to admit, I am curious indeed. What could I possibly offer to you?"

Death turns their head away from him, looking at the dog in deep consideration. "I need..." Death pauses and Jaskier almost wants to think of it in a hesitant way, "to win a bet." The bard's shoulders drop immediately. "Ah," he says, because the hesitation now starts to make sense. Surely Death must know this of him. "I don't do bets, I'm afraid. It never ends well for the poets caught in between."

"I know," Death agrees easily and not very reassuringly, as a matter of fact. "But I am in need of a song. A song to bring the gods to tears and neither can I write nor sing. What I can do, is offer you my protection."

Jaskier's mind floods with thoughts.

Protection from Death.

The two of them stare into each other's eyes, the world around them timeless, everlasting. Finally, it is Jaskier who breaks the contact and returns to his bundle of food. He bites into a fruit, it's sweet juices run down his chin and drip onto his chemise. "I will make the gods weep," he declares and watches Death smile full of warmth.

[moonydustx]

Hello Moonydustx. I hope you're well! I really like your stories, your way of writing is very pleasant to read. I loved what you wrote for Kid and Killer, I love those two men! In fact, I'm totally in love with Kid Pirates. 💖

I was wondering if you could write something with Kid 🧲 . I so need to fluff with him. I know he likes to show off that he's cruel and ruthless, but I'm SURE this bad boy is also a very big fluffy guy capable of a lot of love. He named his boat after his first love - this boy is a great sentimentalist, absolutely!

Here's my idea: reader is the newest recruit to Victoria Punk. Kid is suspicious at first, but discovers that she's a true virtuoso at the piano and that her voice is the most beautiful he's ever heard 🎹🎶. (We all know that Kid loves music.) See where I'm going with this, Moonydustx 😏😉? Kid will slowly fall in love with the new recruit, but won't understand what's happening to her at first, and it'll drive him crazy. Reader is not insensitive to the captain's charm but is very intimidated even though she respects him a lot.

If this inspires you, I'd love a lot of fluff, cute stuff. Slightly spicy, if you like. We like it spicy, let's be honest but right now I need cuddles.I hope this is understandable, English is not my first language. Thanks if you've read this far and I'll be grateful for life if you accept my challenge. 💚🥰

let me start with: I'VE BEEN DYING TO BE DYING TO WRITE THIS.

YES YES AND YES you are absolutely right, I really have this vision of Kid being a sweetheart.

I wish I had more time to write more and more about this story, I think it would have the potential to be something bigger, you know, something with more chapters perhaps? But I wrote more about the cute part than the spicy part in this one, I hope you like it anyway

Old ghosts

Eustass Kid x F! Reader

wanings: mention of Kid's missing arm, phantom pains, very brief mention of smut (nothing explicit). Regarding the medical and musical parts mentioned: I'm not an expert in any of them, I apologize if I make mistakes.

Your light humming was still stuck in Kid's mind. How your dress fell down your body and your legs flailed against the counter as you hummed a song about Roger's old promise. That was the first sight of you he had.

The second was you standing a few meters away from him, waiting for an answer, while Killer acted in your place.

"She could be a good crewmate." Killer pointed out, both of them staring at your shrunken form, even though you were standing. The bloody arms. "She knows how to fight, knows how to defend herself and can still be good company for our ears."

"Hm…" a growl escaped Kid's reddened lips. "What do you know how to do?"

"Whatever you need." Your voice was firm, even if it was low. "I just need a roof over my head."

"And that blood?" He approached, taking one of your hands and bringing it up to eye level with him. "It looks fresh."

"One of the richest men in town tried to have their way with me." you pointed out, still firm in your words. "I had to kill him. Now, I know they will hunt me if I stay here."

"Right." Kid walked away, turning to Killer. "Find her a task and also a place for her to sleep."

With one last look in your direction, Kid walked away and left you in Killer's responsibilities for the day. In the following days, you barely saw Kid and when you did, he didn't have the friendliest of expressions. The man was intimidating, as were all the rumors about him.

You expected that it would take time to adapt to pirate life, that that world would be immensely cruel to your existence. But there were happy days, days when you would get together to chat and drink, days when you would spend hours fishing.

Little by little, the captain seemed to attract your attention more. He was still a thick shell to dig through, but there was a certain lovable side to him. Infamous jokes, an unshakable ego, a affection for his crewmates that wasn't noticeable to outsiders. In your eyes, being in Kid's presence was inviting, even if he would never pay attention to a new girl.

Kid was reluctant to let other members join out of nowhere, he liked to understand who would step on his ship, what their motivations were. But every justification Killer gave about you joining the crew was ignored. Not ignored, but pushed away somewhere in Kid's mind. The only thing he saw was you a little while ago, humming in a bar. Almost hypnotizing him.

In the first few days, he chose to remain watching you. It wasn't possible that the heavens had sent you there just to please his vision on dark days, you must have something to hide. As the days went by, he realized you didn't.

As the days went by, Kid felt even more mesmerized, seeing you happily doing your tasks in the distance, hearing your voice hum throughout his ship. On one of these nights, when everyone was drinking, he chose to leave early. Lying in his bed, your voice from afar guided him into a deep sleep, like he hadn't had in a long time.

You gradually became a comfort to his eyes and ears, however, for him to get closer would be like holding a delicate rose amidst so much metal debris. Something so sweet, so delicate seemed beyond his reach.

The room you shared was dark in the dead of night and your whispers and turbulent awakenings didn't seem to bother the others present. Another night, another nightmare.

With the idea of ​​refreshing your mind with some water, you didn't expect to find the crew captain, leaning on the edge of the table, his amputated arm stuck in a bucket of ice.

"What are you doing up at this hour?" Kid screamed as soon as he saw your presence in the kitchen.

"I just came to get some water." you explained, reaching for a glass and filling it. You could feel his gaze burning towards you. "Everything is fine?"

"Sure." he grunted, but soon his expression changed to something more serene. It was just the two of you, there was no reason for him to leave it out. "Since I lost this arm, sometimes I have some strange pains. It's like it's still there you know, but it's not."

"Phantom pains." you pointed out, moving a little closer to him. "They say there are many pirates and soldiers who suffer from this."

"Are they saying something about the cure too?"

"I do not think so." You smiled, even if discouraged. "But there are some methods that can help. I mean, just time really helps you deal with it, but some things can distract your mind."

"And can you help me?" his words came out almost automatically, preventing him from stopping them.

"I believe so. I don't have much experience in this, but I have an idea of ​​something that might help." still hesitant, you approached him and took out the ice bucket, placing it aside.

The touch of your hand on his amputated limb made him almost recoil, but your hand was gentle, delicate and in this way you dried the remaining water on his skin.

"Do you mind if we go to my room?" He asked and saw you nod.

The two of you walked in silence to his quarters and with only the moon illuminating the room, it was difficult for you to get caught up on the details.

"Lie down" your voice came out as a whisper and Kid promptly answered. You took the sheet spread there and covered the end of his amputated arm. "Don't look there."

It worked for you, somehow maybe it would work for him. You could feel his eyes practically burning towards you, but you still hadn't found the courage to look back at him. The feeling inside you was strange, different, and at the same time it felt good.

"Close your eyes." you asked and he just grunted, unwilling to follow your little request. "Captain…"

"Aren't you going to do anything?" seeing you agree with him, Kid closed his eyes.

The first thing he felt was your fingers running along his arm, which hadn't been injured. A light, almost imperceptible touch. Sometimes you allowed your fingers to barely touch him and sometimes you let your nails trace a firmer path. You allowed them to trace their way to the back of his neck and then back to his fingertips, intertwining and releasing them. In order to replace the awkward silence between the two of you, you began to hum a calm song, which made up the atmosphere along with the beats of the sea against the ship.

At first, Kid felt tense and still had traces of pain. But little by little the pain in the member that no longer existed seemed to disappear, being replaced by the small goosebumps that you caused on his skin. What he used to try to open his eyes and analyze you became an arduous task. Feeling your skin against his, Kid fell asleep, leaving that uncomfortable pain in the past.

After that day, you felt different. Seeing him trust you to the point of sleeping in your presence made you feel somehow be seen, even if the thought of him not wanting anything to do with you because you were a newbie still haunted you.

One of the afternoons when the ship was docked, you returned to the Victoria Punk only to find a huge piano there.

"What is that?" you let your finger run across the keys. "Is so beautiful!"

"A thanks." Kid appeared behind you, watching you sit on the bench in front of the instrument. "You helped me the other day and I remembered I saw you playing one of these at the bar, I thought you might like it."

"Serious?" you immediately jumped off the bench and hugged Kid, who was surprised and barely had time to respond to the gesture. "I loved it! Emma, ​​come see this!"

You shouted for other crewmates, who soon gathered and listened to you explain how it worked and even teach how they could play a simple song. Moving away a little, Kid watched until his first mate appeared.

"Do you still regret me convincing you to let her stay?" Killer asked.

"At no point did I say I regretted it." Kid pointed out, feeling judged by his friend.

"I know that look, Kid." Killer commented and only saw Kid staring back at him, trying to understand what he was saying. "I haven't seen that look on you in a while, but I'm glad to see it."

"What's with that look?" he asked cynically, seeing Killer start to walk away.

"Last time I saw you looking at someone like that, we chose the name of this ship."

Kid tried to push away thoughts about you after hearing that. But it was intoxicating, inevitable. It was as if your presence and voice were all he was looking for at that moment.

It didn't take many nights for the same discomfort to torment him again, just as it had done a few days ago. His footsteps almost sank the kitchen that morning as he decided whether to ask for your help or not.

“Hi,” you caught his attention, appearing like a mirage. "If you walk any further, you could sink the ship."

"That's not my intention." he pointed out, mustering up some courage. "The pain is back a-and…"

"Do you need my help?" you asked and giving up, he just nodded.

Again, the two of you walked in silence to his room and the whole process was repeated, he lay down, you hid the amputated limb.

"How did you know this would work?" he asked before your fingers even found his skin.

"A lucky guess." you replied, noticing his attentive gaze in your direction. "How can I explain? Well, I have some past problems too, especially when I'm surrounded by too many people at once. It's like suddenly everything becomes too much at once." His eyes followed your every movement, trying to get to know you even more. "That's how I discovered music. Every time I feel like I'm on the edge of that precipice, I use it to get my mind off it."

"As a distraction?"

"Exactly, as a distraction. Take me to a good place." You explained and saw him nod. "I believe that maybe touching and feeling what is still here will make you forget a little about what is not, make you go to a good place."

"It makes sense." he limited himself to saying.

"Let's start?"

Unlike what happened last time, your eyes met Kid's and this time his eyes seemed intent on you. Your hands traced gentle lines on his arm, trying to remove that pain that bothered him so much. Even looking at you, you could notice that Kid wasn't there, not mentally. He seemed focused on a thought that stunned him.

"A berri for what you're thinking." you only heard a nasal laugh come out of him.

"Are my thoughts worth that little?" he asked and you immediately denied it, a shy glow on your face.

Even though it made butterflies in your stomach just thinking about it, you couldn't deny how much you liked it when his eyes were directed at you.

"I can tell you have something on your mind." your hands moved away from him, resting in your lap. "Did I say too much? Do you want me to get out of here?"

"No… You said that helping me with this pain would be like a distraction, right? Take me to a good place" you agreed and Kid continued. "Can I propose something?"

"Of course, I want to be able to help you with that."

You watched Kid lean on his arm and sit down, just a few inches away. Analyzing your every expression, his hand touched your face and unlike every other time you had imagined, the touch was gentle. Even his calloused and trembling hand was still like a piece of the finest silk sliding across your face.

It was inevitable not to lean on his touch, not wanting to feel Kid's hand against your skin even more and it was just that sign he was waiting for.

His lips touched yours lightly, waiting for you to give in to his desire - he had no idea how much of that desire was yours too. What was just a seal of lips soon became an intimate dispute between the space in your mouth, tongues tangled as you involuntarily felt your body lean even more towards Kid.

His fingers were tangled in your hair, slowly leaving strand by strand behind, sliding down your back and pressing firmly against your waist. You knew that Kid was strong, you had been there long enough to see him fight enemies, but a surprised gasp left your lips when you saw that without any effort and with just one arm he managed to tag you - basically guide you - to get to you on his lap.

The kiss became even more heated and you could feel that in addition to the heat, the red paint on his lips had disappeared, probably mixed with your lips.

"Captain…" your low voice whispered, in a struggle to use your hands to push him away. You didn't want to, but the shred of rationality in you knew it was necessary. "Captain, I'm sorry…"

"No, no. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." He moved away just enough to look at your face, your legs were still on either side of his hips, his intimacy was hard against yours, which was certainly soaked. Rationality, too early for that. You tried to hold on to that thought. "I'm sorry."

"It is alright." your cheeks burned at the way he looked at you. "I liked it, I really liked it. I just didn't want to go that far."

"Noted." he looked at you like a cute puppy that had been lost. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." your hesitant voice stated and you saw him lay down again, this time, he pulled you and placed you on top of the source of his pain, hiding the arm that no longer existed. "Captain?"

"Just stay here for a while, will you?" He asked, hesitant to hear you deny it. "I mean, if you don't want to, I won't get mad. It's just… I like your presence. I like how you're always helping someone here, or how your eyes light up when someone's telling you some of the things we've been up to. by the sea. I like the way you touch me and damn, your voice just like an angel." he whispered the last part, like it was too much for him. "Just stay here, a little longer."

"Of course captain." you whispered back and reached up, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

Nestling even more against him, your hand that used to caress his arm, got caught in his hair, in a delicate cafuné, while you whispered a song in his ear. Little by little, Kid fell asleep trapped in your arms and that night, you wouldn't insist on leaving his embrace.

[fhatbhabiee]

Like Real People Do

Din Djarin x Reader

word count: 600

warnings: light smut, fluff, happy ending

note: inspired by the song that's been stuck in my head for the past month- Like Real People Do by Hozier.

He was so perfect. The small gestures he'd make, the way he protects you when you go out into town, the beautiful words he'd whisper to you when you're in bed together - but you still haven't seen his face. Ever since you both settled down, all you ever wanted was to see his face. Touch his cheeks, kiss the tip of his nose when he wakes up in the mornings, and most importantly kiss him.

You'd kiss the coolness of his helmet, right where his cheeks would be but that's about it. You wanted more. You wanted to press your lips against his- feel his tongue explore your mouth while you tangled your fingers in his hair - if he even has hair. You still didn't know if he did. You never bugged him about it, knowing what it meant if he took his helmet off, but you didn't understand. He loves you right? Why can't he show you the man under the helmet?

One night you got the courage to ask.

It was a rather hot night - he was laying behind you with his arm wrapped around your waist, fingers slipping in and out of your wet cunt as your moans filled the room. Denying yourself the orgasm he had been building up for the last 20 minutes, you pulled his hand away and straddled his waist.

“Kiss me.”

“Cyar’ika…”

“Din please.” you whined. “I wanna feel your lips against mine.”

“I can't.”

You let out a small frustrating sigh and got off his lap, quickly slipping your pajama shorts back on and walked out of the bedroom. You walked into the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of cold water before chugging it all in one sitting.

Was it such a bad thing that all you wanted to do was kiss him?

Was it such a bad thing to want to kiss your partner?

You heard his heavy footsteps making their way to the kitchen, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Can we talk?” he muttered, the sound of his voice through the modulator made you wanna throw something but you gave him a quick nod. “Can you look at me?” you crossed your arms over your chest and faced him.

The look on your face broke his heart. You looked a bit mad but more sad than anything.

“I've known this way my entire life. Not letting anyone see my face- not taking the helmet off unless I was alone.”

“Din you don't get it. I don't care that you keep it on - I respect what you believe in. But I'm tired of kissing beskar, I want to kiss like real people do.”

He let out a small sigh and walked away. You felt the tears building up but all of a sudden the light in the kitchen went out.

“Great.” you muttered, making your way to the light switch only to feel someone grab your hand. You knew it was Din, the calluses on his hand gave it away. That and no one else lived in the house.

He gently pulled you back into the kitchen, picking you up by the waist and setting you down on the counter.

“Din-” he cut you off by placing his lips against yours. You melted into his touch, placing your hands on his cheeks and smiling at the patchy beard you felt underneath your fingertips. You felt the tip of his nose pressed up against your cheekbone, mind wandering at what miracles he could work with that thing.

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum…”

beta'd: @clawdee & @iron-strangers <3

divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

[crystalofmoon19]

I Love You Too Much - Striker x Singer! Reader

Summary: You finally decided to confess your feelings to Striker and you were going to surprise him with a song that you composed for him.

Warnings: None! It's just pure love for Striker.

Word count: 1900

Song used: I Love You Too Much - The Book Of Life

(Note: This fic was going to be uploaded on Valentine's Day, but due to personal problems I’m uploading it now.)

Striker was in his lair sharpening his knife for his next mission, if he ever had one, he gave an annoyed snort, leaving his knife aside. He was really already tired of losing so many fights in vain, he wanted to get revenge on Blitz and Stolas for everything they had put him through, but in addition to thinking about them he also thought about you.

While he was losing his battles, he had also met you, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. You two met when Striker had to crash a party to kill one of his targets, you on the other hand were singing on the improvised stage that you and your friends had made.

Your voice was so beautiful and melodious that Striker couldn't help but be attracted to you.

Striker decided to talk to you once he finished targeting him and when he talked to you he realized that you were just as beautiful on the inside as you were on the outside. You valued life with a lot of love and compassion, very contrary to him who was just a dirty murderer who killed royalty, but still the two of you got along well and stayed in touch to this day.

Clearly Striker hasn't told you anything about his mercenary life, but ever since he met you he's had a big dilemma, whether to carry out his revenge against Blitz or...

“Leaving my life as a murderer to be with her.” .- Striker said out loud to himself.

It had taken him years to perfect his life as an assassin, but it was a life he didn't like living, having the stress all the time was killing him and being with you was so rewarding. He could be himself with you and you wouldn't judge him.

Striker continued with his train of thought until he heard a loud noise.

“Striker now has a letter from-!” Striker's mariachis sang in unison, who came out of his hiding place.

“GET OUT OF HERE!” Striker shouted angrily.

“No, no, sir, we have a letter for you!” .- One of the mariachis spoke, the elderly one with the big mustache.

"A letter?" .- Striker asked for the first and only time interested in his mariachis.

“That's right, sir, this letter is for you!” .- Said the female imp who with the others raised the letter for Striker to pick it up.

“It's Miss Y/N's, she told us to give it to you!”

“She is very pretty!”

Striker gave a sinister look at the imp who said that and got scared. This time his gaze went to the letter and he began to read it.

“Dear Striker…

Hi Striker, I know you're busy but I'd really like to see you soon. I've missed you a lot lately. Is it okay if we meet at the stream near my town during the sunset? I'll bring the food for a picnic and you could bring the wine.

I hope to see you again, Striker.”

- Y/N ♡

After finishing reading your letter, Striker couldn't help but smile and wag his tail with happiness. It had been a long time since he felt this happy and only you could make him happy.

And without thinking twice Striker started looking for the wine that he had saved for a while. He was so excited to see you again.

“Sir, are you okay?” .- Said one of the mariachis.

“I think it's the first time I've seen it like this.” .- Said another.

"Yes, me too."

“What did the letter say?”

“YOU GET OUT OF HERE!”

___________________________________________

You prepared the food basket, put the tablecloth, the candles and checked that everything was ready. There was only one more thing missing, your guitar. You really wanted to confess your feelings for Striker, and what better way to do it than with a song?

You mustered up the courage to write a letter to Striker and made an appointment to meet him at the stream that was near your town. You really wanted him to come.

“Miss Y/N, we're here!” .- One of Striker's mariachis spoke from the ground and you just laughed as you lifted them up with your hands.

“You're right on time, guys. Did you deliver my letter to Striker like I asked?”

“Yes, Miss Y/N!”

“We have never seen him so happy!”

“Well done, guys. Now as I promised, I will leave you some of my food if you help me with my song.”

“Yes, Y/N!”

"Thank you so much, guys."

With that the little mariachis got into the basket. You smiled leaving your house and headed to the place where you met Striker; you just hoped he could come.

You were still a little nervous about all of this. You loved Striker, but he had been busy with his work and you weren't sure if he would give you time to come over today; he was always very reserved with his work. You didn't know if confessing was a good idea or not, maybe Striker didn't see you the same way, but you still decided to risk confessing your feelings to him.

That's how you arrived at the aforementioned place, you took the blanket out of the basket and spread it, then you placed some candles; you wouldn't put the food out until Striker arrived, otherwise the food would get cold.

With everything ready, you just had to wait, so you just looked into the distance and sat on the floor while you tuned the chords of your guitar. You watched as Wrath's infernal sun slowly descended into the sunset, a short time later you heard Bombproof's gallop and quickly got up happy to see Striker; for his part, he left Bombproof near the tree, got off his horse, took out the wine, and greeted you with a gesture with his hat.

“Hello, darlin’.”

“Striker, I'm so happy to see you!” .- You hugged Striker without thinking twice, and he, although a little surprised, returned the hug.

“It seems like someone is very happy to see me.”

"You have no idea." .- You said, blushing on your cheeks and looking away from Striker.

"Are you hungry? If you want, we can start eating.”

“Sounds good to me, darlin’. “I brought your favorite wine.”

“Aw, Striker, thank you very much. “I just brought your favorite food.”

“You didn't have to do it, songbird.”

“I wanted to do it for you.”

“You are so sweet, sugarcube.”

A blush returned to your cheeks as you took the food out of the basket. With this you and Striker didn't stop talking to catch up on how they were while enjoying the food you prepared.

When the two of you finished eating, you settled down to drink the wine that Striker brought, he poured it into the glasses you brought and you gave a toast to this. With this you saw in the distance how the infernal sun of Wrath set in the evening.

“That's why I wanted you to come at this time, Striker. I wanted you to see the sunset of Wrath, our home.”

“Well, you're right, darlin'. The Wrath sunset is one of the best and from here you have a stunning view.”

“This feeling you have right now is the same feeling I feel when I'm with you, Striker.” .- You got closer to Striker and took his hands to look him in the eyes while he just looked at you a little surprised.

“What are you trying to say, darlin’?” .- Striker asked you while you raised your hand to your chest, taking a big breath. It was now or never.

“I think it would be best if I sing you a song about the feelings I have felt from my heart, Striker… Mi amor.”

Your words in Spanish caught Striker's interest as you picked up your guitar to start singing.

“I love you too much.”

“To leave without you loving me back.”

“I love you too much.”

“Heaven’s my witness and this is a fact.”

“I know I belong.”

“When I sing this song.”

“There’s love above love and it’s ours.”

“‘Cause I love you too much.”

Striker opened his eyes wide, he couldn't believe you were confessing in a love song, his rattle tail kept waving happily and he was smiling genuinely at your singing, he wanted to keep listening to your song, he was adoring you even more.

“I live for your touch.”

“I whisper your name, night after night.”

“I love you too much.”

“There’s only one feeling and I know it's right.”

“I know I belong.”

“When I sing this song.”

“There’s love above love and it’s ours.”

“‘Cause I love you too much.”

You gave a signal to the mariachis, they came out of the basket and joined you in your serenade playing their instruments.

“Heaven knows your name and I've been praying.”

“To have you come here by my side.”

“Without you a part of me is missing.”

“Just make you my home, I will fight.”

You continued the song playing the chords of your guitar, you felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at any moment, but on the other hand Striker was so surprised and at the same time he was loving you at every moment. He didn't even care that the mariachis were here anymore, he only had his eyes and ears for you.

“I know I belong.”

“When I sing this song.”

“There’s love above love and it’s ours.”

“‘Cause I love you too much.”

You kept a moment of silence where you took a big breath to sing the highest note.

“I Love…

“You too much!”

“I love you too much.”

“Heaven’s my witness and this is a fact.”

“You live in my soul.”

“Your heart is my goal.”

“There’s love above love and it’s mine cause I love you.”

“There’s love above love and it’s yours ‘cause I love you.”

“There’s love above love and it’s ours.”

“If you love me.”

“As much.”

When you finished singing, you put your guitar aside, and gave him a smile as your cheeks blushed; he seemed as nervous or more nervous than you, so you decided to talk.

“Striker, you have always been very important to me, and I hope that with this song that I composed for you, my feelings have…” Before you could say anything else, Striker interrupted you, giving you a big hug, one of the biggest hugs. strong ones you have received; since he even picked you up and spun you around.

"I love you too, sweetheart!" .- Striker said that he began to give you kisses on your cheeks.

"Ay, mi amor!" .- You laughed at his kisses that tickled you.

When Striker put you down, you got closer to him and he also got closer to you, in a quick movement Striker's tail caught your hips and he leaned you over, holding onto your figure. You screamed but you saw that he took off his hat that would cover them from the kiss.

You returned the kiss immediately and kissed him with as much passion as he was giving you and you even stroked his hair and your tail met his.

Now Striker no longer had any doubts about it, he preferred to be by your side than any other revenge he might have, he would leave everything for you.

♡

[cillianhead]

hii! your work is amazing from what i’ve seen. so so amazing. i know you do a lot of smut but i was just wondering if you would do fluff headcanons of cillian with a fem reader who absolutely adores music? also maybe what would he do if you like dragged him to a music festival? would he enjoy it? thank you so much!!

Oh my gosh! Thank you. I'm glad you enjoy what I've written so far :)

Thank you so much for your request and I will happily write a fluffy fic just for you <3

Put The Beatles On, Light The Candles, Go Back To Bed || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: None really, fluffy <3, mentions of an unspecified age gap between reader and Cillian, reader and Cillian aren't married.

You and Cillian had a very harmonious relationship. You showed him how to get out of his comfort zone more and he showed you the finer quieter things of life. Like books, new music, poetry, and films.

You've always loved music, obsessing over it since you were little, not being able to go anywhere without your headphones and something with some sort of music that could play through it. Without it you're an irritated mess. And when you met Cillian, he introduced you to new music you'd never heard before, it's what you bonded over when getting to know each other.

Before you lived together, you'd stay up all night, listening to records he'd recommend you or calling all night long, talking about whatever together, talking about music. And when you moved in, it was just perfect. His record collection was large and full of rare finds, when he was away for work, you'd play the same Beatles album over and over again, falling asleep to it. It was comforting to you, in the presence of music, you felt Cillian there, even in his absence. You couldn't listen to one song without thinking of him.

Swaying in his living room with him, his arms wrapped around you as he sung along softly to the words. He was the perfect man for you, you both had a shared love and passion for music. You'd stay up writing songs together, playing various instruments, and making up melodies to gentle love songs dedicated to one another. It was cheesy but it was also so beautiful.

One time, Cillian wrote a short sappy love song on his guitar for you, the words were simple but meaningful, you sat cross legged, watching him play his guitar with that shy smile on his face and rosy cheeks and when the song was over, he'd look at you to see your reaction to find you sitting there crying quietly.

"Oh no, Y/N, what's wrong, baby love?" He gently placed his guitar to the side, kneeling on the ground in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. "Why are you crying?"

"That... that was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, Cillian," You sobbed, whimpering as happy tears streamed down your face. That was the moment he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with you. "I love you so much, I love you, Cillian... thank you for writing that for me." You cried softly.

"Oh you sweet girl," He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips in the hopes to calm you down. Even though he knew you were happy crying, it still pained him to see your tears. "I love you more than anything, that song was only a small example of it, please don't cry or I'll start crying too..." He pulled you into his lap, tears starting to well in his own eyes, cradling you in his arms, on the floor of his living room. He hummed into your hair. You were both so incredibly in love. Two souls perfectly intertwined, your love was a slow gentle waltz and life was the music that let you dance.

Though you weren't the most extraverted person, you were definitely more outgoing than Cillian himself. He was quiet and reserved, though around you he would open up a bit more, he couldn't help being quiet when the two of you went out in public, for whatever reason it was. So when you got tickets to a one day music festival with some artists that you liked and you thought Cillian may like too, he was very hesitant to go with you. Not because he didn't want to but because he knew there would be thousands of people there, probably a lot younger than him, he'd definitely feel out of place. But he couldn't deny you something that seemed like it made you so happy.

So on the day of the festival, Cillian kept a tight arm around your waist both for his own comfort and to protect you, even if you didn't need protecting. You were so excited, raving on about how excited you were to see Lana Del Rey and all the other artists that were performing. He smiled at how happy you were. You had a glow around you when you were smiling, one that made him give you big heart eyes.

"You're so cute, love," He muttered into your hair as he placed a loving kiss on your temple. "Gonna make you m'wife, love how you love music, love you."

"Oh shut up!" You teased, nudging him softly as you shook your head bashfully. You stood more towards the back of the mosh pit, so you guys had a little more room to dance and privacy to yourselves. The event was quite colorful, people covered in glitter and nothing else walked by and tight revealing clothes, you could see Cillian's flushed face, he wore one of his cardigans and dress pants, a very modest outfit, one he usually wore everyday. You thought he was so cute. You could tell he was nervous. "I love you, Cillian, we can always leave if you don't feel up to it... I won't be upset. I just want you to feel okay." You kissed him reassuringly, he just smiled at you in response. That's all you needed to see to know he was telling you he was alright.

Your relationship was like that. You didn't need to speak to understand each other, you could give each other a glance and you would know how the other was feeling. Your hearts were connected, after all.

When the performer came on stage, Cillian took a step back, leaning against one of the barricades and watching you with a grin on his pretty face, arms crossed loosely over his chest. You danced and swayed to the music, singing your heart out to the words. You were the most beautiful thing to him, so carefree and free spirited, an angel in human form. Occasionally you'd look back at him with that big dopey smile of pure bliss, your eyes full of love and Cillian didn't know how he could love you more in that moment. He'd never met anyone like you, anyone that he could spend days and days on end with and never get sick of.

Though big crowds and festivals weren't his thing, the sight of you dancing to the music and laughing at how much fun you were having was the most lovely thing. It made his heart swell and a sense of calmness floated over him. You were all he ever wanted. As long as you were happy, he was happy.

As one of the slower songs began to play, you walked over to him, leaning against him and swaying softly, his arms wrapped around you from behind as he placed gentle kisses on your neck and collarbones. Your skin was like a drug to him, the high washing over him in waves. "My lovely girl," He'd whisper. "Love of my life."

"I love you, Cillian." You felt like the luckiest person in the world. As long as you had Cillian's love and music, you knew you'd be okay.

-

Oh to be in Cillian's arms and swaying softly to music :(

[e-dubbc11]

Okay, so... I would also love to request a song fic from you for our dear Billy boy ❤️

It's Wish - Canaan Cox.

And if... if I may make a little small extra request? Can the reader be plus size? It's not something I've really seen for Billy 🫣❤️

My lovely Lily,

So I listened to this song for about half a day, I love it and it took me awhile to come up with the idea for this but I like it so I hope you do too! ♥️ Thank you for all of the asks you sent me, I appreciate you ♥️♥️♥️

Intuition

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x Plus Size! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, self-esteem issues, smooches

Word Count: 1.7K-ish

Summary: You take a leave of absence from work to help your mother out on the farm after your father gets sick. A handsome CEO buys a cabin in town.

A/N: I’ll link Wish by Canaan Cox at the end and TECHNICALLY this is my last sleepover ask but I can’t say no to my friends when they send me things so I have one more after this for the devilishly handsome, Matt Murdock (see what I did there 😉)

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“They say the guy who bought the Miller’s cabin is quite handsome.” Your mother said, as she counted out ears of corn to put into a paper bag.

When your father got sick, your mother needed help tending to their farm in upstate New York and running the market where locals would come to buy fresh fruit, vegetables, and eggs among other goods. So you took a leave of absence from your job in the city to help her out.

“I’ll keep my eye out, Ma.” You replied with sarcasm dripping from your voice.

She wiped the dirt off of her hands with her apron.

“He told the realtor he just wanted a place to come every so often to relax and be alone. He has some fancy job in the city.” She said.

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Well the Miller’s place is out of the way so aside from the wildlife, he’ll be very alone.”

After your customer paid for his corn, you headed for the back room. Since it was almost closing time, you started cleaning up and putting things away when you heard the bell ring on the front door. Someone had just walked in.

You couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying but your mother was very chatty with whoever walked through the door. The other voice you heard was smooth like warm honey and you swore you could actually hear your mother blushing out there.

Holding a basket of tomatoes, you walked out from the back and said, “Hey Ma, you want these tomatoes out front or—“

You froze in place with the basket still in your arms.

A sly smile stretched across your mother’s face as she said, “Ah, here she is. Billy this is my daughter, y/n. Y/n, this is Billy Russo. He’s the one that bought the Miller’s cabin.”

He was probably the most handsome man you had ever seen in real life. Billy was tall with dark brown hair and a well-groomed beard. His smile made you weak in the knees and his eyes were like two pools of dark chocolate.

You pulled yourself together long enough to pick your jaw up off of the floor, place the basket on the floor and extend your hand for him to shake. It was a beautiful hot summer day today, so you were positive you looked like an absolute mess with dirt on your cheeks, hair in your eyes, and sweat stains on your t-shirt.

Billy, on the other hand, looked perfect. He had on a gray t-shirt, jeans and what looked like an expensive pair of sunglasses hanging off of the collar of his shirt.

Extending his hand, Billy shook yours and said, “Billy Russo…it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

As if you weren’t warm enough already, heat rose to your cheeks and you knew you would be warm to the touch. “It’s nice to meet you too, Billy. What can we do for you today?” You asked, fidgeting profusely.

Your mother continued to fawn all over him as he replied with a warm smile, “Well they told me this was the place to get all of my fresh fruits and vegetables so for right now I’d like some lettuce and tomatoes, please.”

After paying for his vegetables, Billy left but not before saying “I hope to see you again soon.”

“What? He wants to see you again.” Said your mother, looking surprised.

You dropped your shoulders and rolled your eyes as you turned the sign on the door to “Closed” and locked it.

“Ma, come on. He was just being polite. A guy like that has zero interest in me.” You said with a slight frown.

“Hey, you don’t know that.” She said.

“Oh yeah? Show me a guy like that with a girl on his arm that looks like me. I have thick thighs, a little bit of a belly, and these round Charlie Brown cheeks. Guys like him go out with supermodels Ma, not chubby girls that work on her parent’s farm!” You said with a raised voice.

You’ve always been self-conscious about the way you looked. People would always say “Oh you have such a pretty face.” And you were just waiting for them to finish that sentence with “It’s just the rest of you that looks terrible.” You could only wish a guy like Billy would give you a second look.

“Well I think he likes you.” Said your mother.

You shook your head as you replied, “You’re the only one, Ma. You’re the only one.”

**********

Billy was splitting his time between his cabin and his penthouse in New York City. He would come in weekly for supplies but even after completing his purchase, you found he would stick around to talk to you, even help you wait on customers. He did seem to enjoy talking to you.

“I thought you came up here to relax, Russo. Helping me with my work is not relaxing.” You said.

“It’s funny…I really don’t know how to NOT work, y/n. Plus,I kinda like helping you. This is actually relaxing for me.” He said in a low tone.

“You bought that cabin to get AWAY from work. Go enjoy it!” You told him.

He inched a little closer to you. Your arms were touching as he turned his head to the side and looked down at you with that perfect smile on his face.

“You tryin’ to get rid of me?” He asked, his slight New York accent peeking through.

Without thinking before speaking, you blurted out, “No, I’m not tryin’ to get rid of you, I like looking at you, I mean—uh, well—what? Oh look, a customer! Hi, Mrs. Newman!”

Stumbling over your words, you became flustered as you walked to the front to wait on Mrs. Newman but you could feel Billy’s eyes on you and heard him chuckling a little.

Trying to keep Mrs. Newman in the store as long as possible so you weren’t alone with Billy Russo, you asked her, “Wait! Are you sure you don’t need anything else?! The watermelon is really good this year!”

“I’m all set, dear. Thank you.” She said, walking out the door.

Shit.

“Soooooo, you like lookin’ at me, huh?” He asked with a coy smile stretched across his lips.

With your palm pressed to your forehead, you emphatically said as a joke, “NO! Well I—I don’t understand the question.”

Billy moved in closer like he had before, his eyes looked like two wells of black ink, and he tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes.

“I like lookin’ at you too, ya know.” Said Billy.

Your stomach began to flutter and you had to clench your thighs together listening to his silvery voice.

But you couldn’t help yourself and said, “Yeah? Well I think you’re full of shit.” And you stormed off into the back room.

Billy chased after you.

“Hey, y/n! What the fuck was that? Why would you say something like that?” He asked.

It was a reflex action. The tears came thick and fast as you tried your best to keep them from spilling over.

You turned to face him.

“You know exactly what I mean, Billy!” You said curtly.

He shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “No, obviously I fuckin’ don’t. Please tell me!”

The tears had spilled over and streaked down your cheeks.

“Guys like you don’t like girls like me, ok?!” You yelled.

Billy looked confused as he replied, “Girls like you…you mean girls that are funny? Girls that are beautiful, and sweet? Someone who’s easy to talk to? Those kinds of girls? If I didn’t like you, why would I be here all the time? I could just pay for my shit and leave like most people do but I stay because I genuinely like you.”

You folded your arms protectively across your chest, trying to figure out if maybe he lost a bet to the guys in town and now he has to try and bang the chubby farm girl but his eyes told you he wasn’t lying.

“Billy…I don’t exactly have guys beating down the door to go out with me. I’m always the funny friend or the chubby one with the good personality. I’m not the one they want. It’s just the way it is.” You said softly.

“Well they’re fuckin’ stupid and it doesn’t have to be that way with me.” He said with a kind smile and he slowly started to walk toward you. “I would love to take you out.”

Your heart was racing as you absentmindedly reached out to play with the fabric of his t-shirt. It felt soft as you were sliding it through your fingers but you couldn’t bring yourself to look into his eyes because you felt like you might start to cry again.

But he brought your gaze up to meet his anyway. Your entire body was shaking as he pinched your chin in between his thumb and forefinger. Billy gently pressed his lips to yours. They were soft and tasted like the peach you gave him a little while ago.

Placing your hands on his chest, you kissed him back. The bristles of his beard tickled your chin as his tongue parted your lips wanting to twist and knot with yours.

It felt like a dream but Billy was real, very very real. A wish that you had asked for over and over again, had finally come true. It was finally your turn to kiss the handsome prince. Or in this case, the handsome CEO.

“Oh my goodness! I am so sorry!”

It was your mother.

“Jeez, Ma!! You scared the crap outta me!” You exclaimed.

“Well pardon me, my darling daughter but I didn’t know you were playing tonsil hockey with the New York City hunk, ok?” She said.

You and Billy started to laugh.

“I can see where you get your sense of humor from, pretty girl.” He said with a wink and a smile. “Come to the cabin with me. I’ll make you my famous BLT.”

“Really? FAMOUS BLT huh?” You asked.

Even Billy’s eyes were smiling at you as he nodded.

Biting back a smile, you replied, “I’d love to.”

And in typical mom fashion, your mother interrupted and said, “See…I told you he liked you.”

You hated to admit it, but your mother had been right all along.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @fictional-hooman @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[its-vannah]

Gold Rush | Graham Dunne x Reader

Request from @ariianelle: hey!! you're currently carrying the djats fics rn and I was wondering if you could write a graham x reader inspired by gold rush by Taylor Swift? specifically fluff with a happy ending? mainly just Graham pining over the reader? <3

A/N: This may be my favorite Graham fic I've ever written. It was entertaining to no end—and I'm usually pretty hard on my work.

Warnings: Mentions of kidneys and vomit

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being in the spotlight was exhausting. There were times you wish you could have five minutes, just five to yourself. But that wasn't the kind of world you lived in.

Cameras were constantly flashing around you, microphones were being put into your face, fans were asking for your autograph. You could barely catch your breath.

You hadn't asked for any of this. Not the fame or the fortune. From a young age, you were forced into acting lessons by your parents who had big dreams of their daughter fitting in with high society.

The first movie you ever did cemented your place in Hollywood as a sexy, sultry, up and coming actress. You were fifteen. There shouldn't have been anything sexy or sultry about you.

After the release of "The Governor's Daughter", you were launched fullforce into a career you never wanted. No matter how many carpets you walked down or how many after parties you attended, none of it made the life you were living any easier.

You were living your parents dream, not your own.

Those thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your dressing room door. Taking a deep breath, you smoothed out the front of your dress, opening the door.

The SNL manager stood outside, pointing to the face of his watch, "You're on in seven."

You got the memo, shutting the door behind you and making your way to the stage. But an ongoing conversation in a dressing room beside yours caught your attention.

"You don't get it, Billy, she's the most famous actress of the decade. She's our Evelyn Hugo," One man exclaimed.

Another man laughed, "Evelyn Hugo is still the actress of our decade."

"No, you don't get it, she's different. Everybody wants her. Everybody. I heard one guy sold his kidney just to meet her."

"A kidney? Graham, where are you getting this from?"

A sheepish laugh escaped the other man's lips, "The tabloids."

"You, as much as anyone, should know to never trust the tabloids," He sighed, "Graham, if you like her so much, why don't you ask her out?"

"Have you seen her? She's beautiful, she grew up beautiful," The man, Graham, said, "I don't have a chance with her. I don't even think I'd be able to talk around her."

A groan escaped the other man, "You never know. Michelle Wieler liked you in fifth grade and according to you, she was the prettiest girl in the whole school."

"Billy..."

A sudden snapping behind you snapping you out of your trance, "Snap, snap, Y/N, time to get out on that stage."

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for your SNL monologue.

------------------------------------------------------------

At the end of your monologue, you made an announcement to a happy crowd, "Stuck around because after break, Daisy Jones and The Six will perform their hit single, Look At Us Now!"

The audience erupted into applause, on the edge of their seats to listen to the increasingly popular song. It hadn't been out long, but it was already a classic in their eyes.

Walking back of stage to prepare for a skit, you had little to change about your appearance. The segement revolved around your character going on a date at a formal restaurant that goes horribly wrong.

All you needed was a quick touch up. You were in and out of your dressing room in the snap of a finger, taking your place beside the sound tech. You always appreciated those behind the scenes. They never got enough credit.

Beside you, two men walked up, each with a head full of curls. One looked like he had been through hell while the other looked like he had just seen a ghost.

He began whispering to the man beside him, his eges glued to you. But the man simply elbowed him in the ribs, effectively shushing him.

He turned towards you, extending his hand, "Excuse me? Big fan of your work, name's Billy Dunne."

You shook his hand, giving him a warm smile, "Y/N L/N."

Billy nodded to the man on his left, "This is Graham. He's a bit starstruck, if you can't tell."

Your eyebrows raised. So this was the Graham who had been gushing about you in the dressing room. He was cute, that you couldn't deny. But his naivety got in his way.

"Graham, is it?" You smiled, moving in front of him, leaning in to hug him.

He tensed up, shock settling into his features as he looked at Billy, trying to contain his excitement.

Before you pulled away, you whispered in his ear, "For future reference, it was both kidneys."

You pulled away from him immediately after, sauntering off in the other direction.

Graham turned towards his brother, his jaw open.

Billy gave him a questioning look, "What the hell happened to you?"

"Did you tell her?" He was practically shaking out of his skin.

"Tell who what?"

Graham tried to take a deep breath, his foot rapping against the floor, "Did you tell Y/N about the kidney thing? What I said?"

"I've been with you the whole time, dumbass."

"God, I'm an idiot," Graham cursed himself while his brother wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, Graham, you have so much to learn."

------------------------------------------------------------

After the band delivered a flawless performance, you walked out on stage to do your skit. Even now, after years of walking out in front of an audience, you felt like your heart was beating out of your chest.

Taking a seat on a wooden chair in front of a table draped in white cloth, you waited for your costar to join you.

That's when Graham Dunne was pushed out on stage, nervously smiling at the crowd.

Amused, you crossed your legs and leaned in to whisper as he sat down, "Where's Don?"

"Puking in one of the stalls in the men's room," He responded.

"So they sent you?" You asked, the corners of your lips lifting.

He swallowed the bile rising in his throat, "I can tell them to bring somebody else—"

"No, stay. I just hope you can read the cards."

Graham nodded, "About earlier—"

"And action!" Someone yelled off set, cutting the youngest Dunne off.

With that, Graham launched into his first SNL skit.

-------

After the skit, you and Graham walked off stage, laughing at one another.

"I was awful!" He exclaimed, unable to control himself.

"You were hilarious," You replied, "Anyone else would've thought you just had impeccable comedic timing."

"Or that I'm a dumbass!"

You shrugged, "Well, I think you did wonderfully."

"How wonderfully?" He asked, looking at you expectantly as he shoved his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Wonderful enough that I'll let you ask me on a date," You smiled, adding, "I mean, according to you, everyone wants me."

He cringed, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to tell you about over dinner, if you'd ask me."

He nodded, straightening himself out, "Y/N, will you go on a date with me?"

You pretended to hesitate, "I don't know, let me think about it..."

Graham's eyes widened, having already fallen victim to your relentless teasing.

You reached for his hand, jokingly checking his pulse, "I was teasing, Mr. Dunne."

Nodding, he grinned, "Friday, at six?"

"I think that could be arranged."

"I won't have to give up a kidney, will I?"

You took his arm, linking it through yours, "Oh, Mr. Dunne, you have so much to learn."

[g0r3---wh0r3]

Goth music is so good it is the most beautiful thing I've heard. It's so haunting yet so beautiful. I love how the music can be about so many different things. Like a song could be about the most grusome vampire ever or be about a cute cat that likes fish. It makes my life worth living. The music was there for me when nobody was. It lifted me up in times of deep depression. Goth is a music genre but before the music there was still gothic things around which I love just the same!

I love the literature, architecture, art....I love it all! I'm completely captured by how so many people find beauty in the darkness. I love the literature dearly. It really does take you into another world of spookiness. I really do find it alluring. The architecture is just so breathtakingly beautiful. The art is absolutly divine. It really can create a dark yet lovely story. Im captivated by how it can connect people together no matter what specific part of goth they are drawn to.

The goth movement feels like one big family, even before the movement people were still drawn together. It's a family full of outcasts. It's a community where rejects won't be reject. The loners have somewhere to go. No matter your race, ethnicity, gender, age, religion or anything you will be accepted in the goth community, as it is really just one big family.

That's why I'm a goth and that's why I love it.

[thelostgirl21]

Okay... but I've just realised (thanks to this beautiful gifset) that, when Jaskier asked "What are you doing here?" to Geralt, the question was a very direct one, as if Jaskier already knew that Geralt's presence there was obviously no coincidence.

And, of course, the answer he got wasn't: "I went looking for you because I missed having you in my life, was worried about you, and heard you'd gotten yourself into trouble. So, I came here to rescue you and ask if, perhaps, you'd want us to go get some ale and talk about what happened..."

It was: "I need your help".

Because that's what Jaskier does: care about and help people. And Geralt came back into his life because he needed his help and expected Jaskier to still care enough to agree to help him.

Whereas the only personal request that Radovid ever made to Jaskier was for him to sing a song...

And he told Jaskier:

Yet, the very first thing that Radovid ever told Jaskier about himself was:

i.e. A song very much NOT about a white-haired Witcher.

Literally, the things Jaskier learned about him, in chronological order, are that:

- He's good at randomly catching lutes.

- Oh no, he's hot.

- He's long wanted to see Jaskier in person... what?!

- His favorite song is "Song of the Seven".

- Oh! Good! He's a fan!

- His name is Radovid...

- ...Comma, PRINCE?!?!?!

So, Jaskier knew that Radovid loved "Song of the Seven" the most even before he ever knew that he was talking to the crown prince of Redania named Radovid.

And what did that ridiculous spoon of a prince do?

Ask him to pick a song of his choice while gently trying to orient said choice towards a song that others would love to hear him sing.

It may be a small detail but, even in his private quarters, Radovid is already making choices for the benefit of all in attendance rather than allowing himself to be selfish by demanding from Jaskier the song that he would most wish to hear him sing.

And, after Jaskier surprises him by choosing to be emotionally open and vulnerable with him - singing something to him directly from his heart - Radovid shows gratefulness and appreciation by making the effort of learning his song and attempting to sing it back to him.

On top, of course, of lowering his own mask and allowing himself to be honest about his feelings, who he is, and agreeing to do what he can do to help Jaskier in his search for Rience.

Radovid is all about reciprocity, taking other people's needs into consideration, and not taking anything Jaskier is willing to offer him for granted.

And, after Jaskier was hurt by the mistake he made, he literally stopped expecting or believing that he was entitled to receive anything from Jaskier anymore.

So, when Jaskier asked Radovid the question "Why are you here?", it almost feels like a question directed at Radovid, but also at Destiny, or the gods in general, because, somehow, he went searching for his family... and Radovid was the first person that crossed his path.

Like "something" was trying to let Jaskier know that Radovid is now a part of that family, too, and he wasn't meant to get rid of him the way he did that morning.

He also discovered that Radovid told the truth about having given his royal security detail the slip before coming to see him and Ciri, as all the guards and servants that were assigned to him have been violently massacred in his absence...

And now, there he is... weeping alone in a corner, defenseless, surrounded by the corpses of the people that were supposed to keep him safe but can obviously no longer do anything to help him...

The crown prince of a Kingdom that the Nilfgaardian Empire has just declared war upon (and therefore, a prime target for capture to use as a negotiation tool with King Vizimir).

And what is Radovid, Comma Prince, concerned about the most?

Taking up too much of Jaskier's valuable time...

Like, for fuck's sake, Radovid!

All you did was answer Jaskier's question regarding what had happened here, you spoon!

You were offering Jaskier your time and knowledge. Not the other way around!

There's no need for you to apologize for freaking existing, and perhaps needing a bit of support given that the reason all of your guards are dead - and you're now stuck in such a vulnerable position - is that you ditched said guards the night before to keep Jaskier and Ciri safe from them!

If you'd done as you were expected to do, chances are that you would all have been on your way to Tretogor by now.

And, okay, granted, Jaskier and Ciri would probably have been glaring at you the whole way there, trying to escape, and hating you forever (which would've been a bad thing).

BUT, you and your whole royal security detail wouldn't have been at Aretuza during the coup; so I'm sure that, at least, they would have been happy to be, you know, not dead, and helping you get back home in one piece!

So, although you had no idea something bad would be happening to your guards if you just ran off on them, you still chose to put yourself at risk by wandering alone at night in the woods, and refusing to use force to convince Ciri and Jaskier to go with you.

It wasn't a perfect plan, but I think Jaskier is starting to get a better grasp of the type of pressure you were dealing with, and seeing how you might have made choices that seemed to be "the least bad option".

I know I've seen some comments essentially going "Jaskier is such a good person to consider still helping Radovid after he's betrayed him", and I'm not denying that.

But I like to personally think that part of what was going on in his brain, in that moment, was realizing the risks that Radovid had already taken to keep him and his family safe, and the mistake Jaskier himself had made earlier, at least.

Because, when it comes down to it, I've always felt like it was a bit unreasonable for Jaskier to have expected Radovid to 100% trust him with everything he knew, and completely let his own guards down around him, when Jaskier himself couldn't do the same with him.

Each time I watch the scene in the shed, I feel like Jaskier was testing Radovid's loyalties by letting him know that the magical barrier only lasted until dawn, while utterly ignoring what Radovid was actually trying to tell him.

Jaskier might have wanted to trust him, but he couldn't - not yet. So, how could he have expected Radovid to spontaneously share with him everything that worried him, too, or every detail of what he was planing to do in an attempt to fix things?

In a way, I can't help but feel like they are both way too smart and analytical for their own good during that scene.

Like, I know we keep saying that Radovid should have told Jaskier that he wanted to go see Ciri (and I don't exactly disagree), but the problem is that Radovid, up until that point, was operating on the belief that:

- Dijkstra and Philippa were planning to expose and execute Vilgefortz and his spies before Nilfgaard had any chance to know that they were onto them.

And had that messenger not been killed and intercepted, technically, they may very well have succeeded in that endeavor.

But Nilfgaard learned of Redania's plans and were able to turn the tables on them. Something that Radovid wouldn't have known.

So, if we go with the scenario of what was supposed to happen at Thanedd, had Ciri agreed to ally herself with Redania, then every vassal state / kingdom still loyal to Cintra would have joined the North against the Nilfgaardian Empire.

With that level of support, it would technically have been enough to crush any hope of Nilfgaard ever winning a battle against the Northern Kingdoms, and thus, averted a second war between these two superpowers from happening.

At least, for the time being.

From Radovid's P.OV., knowing what he knows, Ciri agreeing to come with them would have, indeed, made everything easier for, well - pretty much everyone, really!

From a personal standpoint, he would have completed the job his brother had given him, and would no longer have needed to keep dealing with Philippa or Dijkstra.

Jaskier would also have gotten what he wanted; i.e. Ciri at the head of the most powerful army on the Continent (by combining Redania's forces with Cintra's and every single smaller Kingdom loyal to them) and able to keep herself safe from her enemies.

And with these two problems out of the way, it would have been much easier for Jaskier and Radovid to be together.

But the thing is that - according to the intel that Radovid had access to by that point- the 2nd war would also have been avoided, and countless lives would have been saved.

And I don't think that it would have been too far fetched to believe that Radovid might have hoped that Ciri's arrival at the Redanian court might have shaken things up a bit there, too.

First, because she's the granddaughter of Queen Calanthe - a headstrong, fierce warrior queen whose authority was greatly respected by her subjects. So, if Ciri has inherited some of her temperament (though hopefully not her ideals), then she wouldn't have been so easy to control and manipulate.

Whereas, from what we've seen, King Vizimir was pretty much likely to go with other people's ideas as long as they were presented to him in a way where he felt like he was the one making the decisions, told that they would reflect well on him and his Kingdom, and that there would be no annoying complaints for him to deal with.

Second, because it's doubtful that she would have wanted to be parted from Geralt and Yennefer, either; and things would likely have been much safer at court with these two around.

And if Radovid's initial plan of just "knocking at the door" had worked, then Ciri would have been in the same room as Jaskier when he would have showed up there, and she could have been able to make the decision of at least hearing out what the prince had to say, or not.

The choice would have been up to her and, had she refused, then at least Radovid would have done all he could to attempt to prevent yet more bad things from happening.

But then, the he suddenly found himself in a situation where, if he wanted to talk to Ciri, not only did it have to wait until morning - since anyone trying to enter the cabin would be blown back by a powerful magical force field (let's all give a good round of applause to Jaskier, that thought stepping out of an incredibly strong protective barrier to go investigate a potential threat with nothing to protect himself but a lute was a better idea than remaining INSIDE the impenetrable protective force that would have held until dawn...) - but he would need to request permission from Jaskier first.

Except Jaskier's job is to look after Ciri and make decisions that are the best for HER until her parents return. Not make decisions that are the best to avoid a war between Nilfgaard and the North (among others)!

So imagine, for a moment, that Radovid had chosen to explain to Jaskier everything he already knew...

That he'd told him that the Redanian spymasters suspected that Vilgefortz was working with Nilfgaard, had spies working with him from within Aretuza, and that the second war was imminent.

Imagine that he'd explained to Jaskier that Ciri, and the amount of political power she represents, might be the only thing that could sufficiently tip the scale in the Northern Kingdoms' favor to prevent another war from happening.

Imagine that he'd told him that, while he'd ditched the small army (a.k.a. his "security detail") that had been meant to accompany him while he "went to see him for information as per Philippa's request" to prevent risking them attempting to take the princess by force, he still felt that he'd had to do what he could to convince her to come to Redania with them of her own free will.

That he couldn't, in good conscience, let the war happen, knowing he hadn't done something to at least try to prevent it.

Imagine he'd told Jaskier exactly what was actually at stake...

First, there's no guarantee that Jaskier would have believed him, and there's no way he could have proven to him that he was telling the truth, either.

Second, Jaskier might have felt like he was betraying Geralt and Yennefer's trust - should he have decided to allow the Prince of Redania to attempt to convince their daughter to ally with his nation to help stop a war from happening.

And third, in the event that Jaskier had refused Radovid's request to be given a chance to speak with Ciri, then Jaskier might have felt like he was responsible for having made the wrong call should a war indeed be declared upon the Northern Kingdoms, because the North lacked enough power, and support, to stay Nilfgaard's hand.

That's a whole lot of responsibilities to drop on Jaskier's shoulders, and a lot of lives to risk on the hope that Jaskier might believe he is telling the truth.

And Radovid does not know what Jaskier himself knows, either. So, he's unaware that Geralt does not want Ciri to become involved in politics, and be forced to take sides (at least, by that point).

The two of them are both operating on the limited amount of information they both have, and trying to make decisions that appear to be the best course of action for everyone involved.

And when Jaskier asked the question "And what do you want?" Radovid clearly hesitated, then came up with an answer that I believe was 100% honest, but clearly evaded the question.

And Jaskier never confronted him about it. He didn't insist that this wasn't what he asked him, nor attempt to get to the bottom of the situation.

I'm 99.9% sure that he did notice how Radovid avoided giving him a straight answer (yes, I know, there's nothing straight about either of them), though, because he immediately became suspicious and looked outside.

But, instead, he gave Radovid the information that the force field would stop working at dawn, later pretended to still be asleep when dawn came, and waited to see what Radovid would do with the information.

One of the most heartbreaking things, to me, however, is that Radovid's answer, when Jaskier gave him that information, was to tell him "I'm scared, Jaskier"...

And Jaskier didn't ask him why he was afraid...

He didn't attempt to investigate what scared him and if - by any chance - it could be scary enough that he might be tempted to do something stupid.

I'm not blaming Jaskier, by the way... Their situation was extremely complex, and Jaskier had his own fears and issues to deal with and manage as best he could.

Radovid is not the only one breaking my heart in that scene, because I think that Jaskier has such a hard time believing that someone could genuinely love him the way Radovid does, that he's unwittingly setting him up to go behind his back by avoiding to fully acknowledge and investigate Radovid's fears.

I think it's easier for Jaskier to believe that Radovid was just so smart that he knew exactly what to say to him, and what to do, to encourage him to lower his own barriers around him and start trusting him - just so he could try to take Ciri from them...

...than to believe that Radovid really would be able to see him and appreciate him just the way he is, and that the connection between them is real.

So yes, Radovid did technically "fail" Jaskier's test. But sadly, I think that Jaskier stopped truly listening to Radovid the moment he decided to test him.

If Jaskier had been brave enough to confront him about the evasiveness of his answer and the reasons why he was scared - if he'd shown Radovid that he genuinely cared about his safety and wanted to help him face those fears, and/or for them to find solutions to Radovid's problems together - Jaskier might have been able to prevent him from making that mistake in the first place.

But, instead, Jaskier came up with his own narrative that would confirm his own fears of never being enough for anyone; and sadly, I don't think that anything Radovid could have done or said, in that moment, would have changed his mind.

And poor Radovid internalized the hurt and heartbreak he saw reflected there as if he was the only one responsible for it.

So then, when Jaskier offers to help Radovid get back to safety, he's confused that he would even wish to help him after the way he managed to so profoundly wound and disappoint him earlier.

Radovid, you may not know this, but Jaskier once told his very best friend in the whole wide world "People do stupid things when they think they're trapped in a corner. And they say stupid things. That's what friends do. They come back."

And somehow, you "came back", because Destiny apparently decided to take pity on Jaskier's own issues and insecurities, and urge him to take a second, closer, deeper look.

And it's not even being subtle about it!

Like "Oi! PRINCE. TRAPPED. IN. A. LITERAL. CORNER. WITH. NOWHERE. SAFE. TO. GO. He told you he was scared earlier, and you didn't even ask him why! He didn't need someone to tell him he was brave, and then wait for him to do something stupid come morning, Jaskier! What he needed, was someone investigating what terrified him, and offering him support. Do you get it now? Prince. Corner. Scared. Trapped. Needing help, but not even able to believe he's entitled to it or not knowing how to ask for it! So fucking help him, for fuck's sake!"

And Jaskier needs to offer, because Radovid apparently keeps putting other people's needs first. So, chances probably are that Radovid won't ask unless he knows for sure it's okay and safe for him to ask anything of anyone whose job is not to tend to him.

Because, in his world, Radovid's main survival strategy seems to have been to constantly provide narcissistic supply to his brother's oversized ego (to be "adored" and protected by the King), by cheering him on from the sidelines, while drawing as little attention as he could to himself.

In Radovid's world, he doesn't matter: he's a spare, easy to cast aside and forget about. As long as the King's pleased with him, he's safe.

(Or he used to be, before the whole Hedwig incident.)

You shouldn't have to listen to him, because he's of no use to anyone and he doesn't matter.

He's no more than a pretty reflective surface for his brother to admire himself in whenever there's no other more interesting image of himself to gaze upon.

That's Radovid's job. Letting others hog the spotlight, coming in second, and stopping to exist whenever convenient.

And when Jaskier says that he can't go with him because he needs to find his family first, Radovid immediately offers to go risk his own life, and use whatever resources he can spare, to help Jaskier be reunited with the people he loves most like it's the most natural thing in the world for a prince to do!

No wonder Jaskier couldn't figure him out... He's used to people just spontaneously dumping all of their issues on him while expecting him to do or say something about it.

While Radovid is going "you don't have to listen to me or care about my issues, but maybe I could do something to help you with yours?"

All the while being the one that would likely benefit the most from having someone genuinely listening to and helping him.

Jaskier: What are you doing here?

Geralt: I need your help.

Jaskier: *Sighs* Figures...

Jaskier: Why are you here?

Radovid: Came looking for my guards, didn't go well, now there's a war and I'm hiding in a corner... Story of my life that I don't want to bore you with... But hey! Maybe I could help you go find and rescue your family instead?

Jaskier: !!!???

[yourantag]

Rises the Moon (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: 3 posts in a row? More likely than you'd think! The next is probably gonna be dropped on New Years since I heard if you post too much at once, you can get shadow banned. Still, gotta feed you guys the few things I've written before I'm dragged back to school. This fic was actually written in August for the Ithaqua server's Ithaugust. The prompt was "you forgot, but I remember." I was between hitting the reader with a car k-drama style or this, but luckily I ended up with this. Enjoy! Word count: 2.0k words TW: Mild violence, death, and yandere themes. Summary: The sun god has always loved the deity of the moon. Even as galaxies collided and the stars died, he has loved them. But fate is not kind, ripping you away from him. Again, and again, and again. So, even if you cry, he can only apologize. He'd rather confine you in these walls than lose you ever again.

"What do you think of mortals, my sun?"

"They're selfish fools who yearn for more than they need, so easily consumed by greed."

"My, such cruel generalizations. Not all of them are like that."

"Perhaps, but can you truly claim that most are innocent?"

"I suppose not, but I believe in it."

"Believe in what?"

"The good in humanity. I'm willing to bet my life on it."

-

The ebbing and flowing of time was as inevitable as the pushing and pulling of the tides, taking with it lives and memories of the past. With each rotation of the sun, the rise of a new moon, and the occasional visits of comets and asteroids from beyond, life continued. Regardless of the pain and suffering of those who lived on, the world continued to turn, just as time continued to march on. Sometimes, Ithaqua wished it would just stop.

Thirty million, two hundred two thousand, and twenty three years have passed.

Twenty five human lifetimes have come and gone, each one leaving him more grief-stricken than before.

Every encounter with you was as devastating as the last, leaving Ithaqua yearning to see you again while praying he didn't. Every time he met you, you'd steal his heart again, as if you could steal something that was already yours to begin with. Yet, still, he'd fall in love with you again and again, lifetime after lifetime, like a fool.

Each life only really started when he met you, held you in his arms, and loved you. Then, tragically, horribly, unavoidably, his life ended when you died.

The first life had been fine, the two of you born as commoners in some civilization long past. It was a hard life of surviving the elements, fending off wild animals, and trying to just live in a world humans had not yet adapted to. Still, however difficult it was, Ithaqua treasured the memories of that life as it had taught him so much about humans. 

Such resilient creatures, capable of persevering and creating. He saw just how brilliant they were, and just how stupid as well. They could take down animals twice their size and weight yet couldn't figure out how to navigate. 

Incredible. 

Regardless, sitting around campfires, singing songs, running in the fields and just living was invigorating. Ithaqua came to appreciate life and the small things within it; from the crunching of leaves to the chirping of birds, the blue seas and the cloudy skies. The views and experiences he'd never get to have as a god, the ones he'd never get to know or love as an immortal, even the very essence of fleeting lives became so, so very beautiful to him.

Humans were nothing compared to the gods, but when Ithaqua sat among them, talked to them, laughed with them, he came to find that you were right. Despite how difficult it was to live in this world, humans still held kindness for each other. They offered him food despite not having much for themselves. They offered him shelter despite not having much room. They offered him help despite needing help themselves.

Such complicated, foolish, yet oddly kind creatures they were, but that made them all the more charming. Ithaqua genuinely considered that the humans in this world were unlike the ones from the last, that they were truly good. They treated the two of you so well, and taught him so much.

The last lesson they ever taught him was just how far they'd go to ensure their own survival.

It wasn't something Ithaqua ever expected to experience, not when he had been a god his whole life. The rumble of the earth as it trembled under the stamping feet of hundreds of cattle shocked him. Fear bloomed in his heart as he saw animals he'd only ever regarded as sacrifices before becoming deadly, stampeding through the small village the two of you resided in.

He was lucky, or so many had said. Surviving such an experience by not being too close was a blessing. Yet, how could Ithaqua feel that way when you hadn't made it out safely? When he saw, from the cliff that watched over the village,  that a man pushed you in front of the charging cattle to save himself?

The bitter taste of betrayal lingered on his tongue for a long time, even after he had killed the man and everyone whose negligence led to the incident.

The next life was kinder, as though the world itself understood he needed time to process things and feel better. When he met you once more, you had given him a warm smile and a hug.

Ithaqua held you for a long, long time. He breathed in your scent, listened to the steady beat of your heart, and slowly started to compose himself. He hadn't even realized how distressed he was until he found himself calm once more.

The two of you caught up, explaining what had happened in this life, what you wanted to do in this slightly more advanced time, and more. At some point, Ithaqua had to ask you if you still believed in the good in humanity.

"Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?"

He wanted to say the obvious answer. He wanted to point out the fact that you died in the last life because of humans, because of their selfishness, their incompetence, their betrayal. Yet, when he looked in your eyes, seeing them clear of any feelings of hatred, Ithaqua let it go. If you forgave them, he would too.

Really, it should've been more obvious to him that it was a warning.

The gentle days of sitting in the sun, playing in the river, and feeling the pure relief of having you back had made Ithaqua blind to such a hint. He simply went on with this life, living happily with you by his side.

Though extremely wary, Ithaqua came to trust humans once more. Naively, he came to believe that perhaps, the humans of this time period were better. Perhaps, they were more civilized. With less of a focus on surviving and more so on improving the quality of life, things were more peaceful than before.

Ithaqua relaxed as he once more laughed among humans, sharing new jokes, reciting old poetry, and learning new things that had recently been discovered. You always smiled so sweetly when you saw him interact with mortals, so he tried his best to be more social.

"Talking with humans is crucial! It helps stimulate the brain and be happier. We're humans now, so we need to keep in mind what they need to survive."

Ithaqua would've loved to disagree, claiming that this vulnerable mortal shell was not who he was, therefore his needs were not the same, but his stomach would always disagree. Still, he vehemently denied being human, even as he ate whatever you had made for him. At the least, Ithaqua knew he didn't need to spend time with others. You were more than enough.

The moments he had with you were treasured more than any others.

He shared the first snowfall of his life with you, the soft specks of ice fluttering delicately in the wind. They swirled around you two as you danced, laughing as the surroundings became blanketed in white. Ithaqua thought, once again, that the world was beautiful. But, perhaps that was just because of you?

However, it seemed like only when the wounds of the past had healed that tragedy would strike once more. This time, it was a more targeted murder, one where they were out to kill you specifically. Poisoned to death because of jealousy, because of someone who apparently loved him and thought that, somehow, he'd love them if they killed you.

The first winter of that year was tainted by the blood on his hands, soaking into the snow. Red seeped into the ice and polluted the otherwise serene beauty of the frost covered land, painting it in ugly colors that seared itself into his mind. However, compared to the sight of your cold, lifeless, glassy eyes, the once comforting and kind ones that shined like stars in the sky, it was no travesty.

No words in the world could express the pain in his chest or the severity of this crime. Not even if the heavens fell or if the world itself turned its back on its inhabitants, nothing, nothing at all could be worse than the sin of robbing you of your life.

Ithaqua's heart ached more than his frostbitten fingers realizing that, this year, he wouldn't get to dance with you. Not this year nor the next, or the next, not until he died and was reborn to start the cycle anew.

Even after the first betrayal, the first death, Ithaqua felt incredibly hurt that he was betrayed again by humanity.

Still, he pushed on.

For you.

Yet, with each life that passed by, you recognized Ithaqua less and less. You forgot things about him, be it his godhood or the memories you shared. You were starting to forget yourself, not remembering that you weren't human, that this wasn't how you were supposed to be.

By the tenth life, you didn't recognize him at all.

You remembered nothing about your past lives, nothing about your godhood, not even his name, nothing, you remembered nothing.

You forgot.

Still, he desperately sought you out. In each life, Ithaqua tried to get you to remember your past lives, the happy memories, the bad ones, even just his name or the stupid bet, anything. It would be fine if you remembered that time he slipped and fell like an idiot. It would be fine if you remembered how he tried to drown a fish. It would be fine if you remembered anything, anyone, just as long as you remembered.

But you didn't.

And, every time, you'd die.

Again. And again. And again.

You fell for the trickery of humans time and time again. To their cunning, their cruelty, their evil. No matter how he tried to save you, how hard he tried to convince you not to trust them, it never mattered. Everything he did was futile, only ever allowing him to miserably watch as you died again.

Once upon a time, Ithaqua believed. He thought it was possible that, in another world, another place, humans could be kind. They gave kindness so freely, offering assistance and support with smiles, but in the end, the results were always the same.

Humans could never be trusted, not when he- you had been betrayed in every lifetime.

…

Twenty five. 

Twenty five lifetimes with you. Watching you get betrayed, watching you suffer, watching you die.

And yet, you remembered none of them.

It's no different this time, you see him and feel a connection, yet you don't remember him. You sometimes remember things about him like his favorite color, his favorite foods, even the things he hates, but it's always chalked up to instincts, nothing more and nothing less.

Ithaqua is tired. Tired of being forgotten, tired of being betrayed, but most of all, tired of losing you. So, there's really only one thing he can do. If you won't listen to his warnings, and if all of his efforts to protect you are futile, then the only logical option is to keep you away from humans.

It's not hard to get you away from them when you trust him with your life.

Delicately trailing a finger down your face, Ithaqua smiles. Blindfolded, chained, and trapped you may be, but you're still radiant in his eyes. Ever so brilliant and glowing, even within the confines of a dimly lit room.

"It'll be okay, my moon, all will be fine. Here, you are safe. No one can hurt you, and no one can take you away." Ithaqua drags his hand down your arm, watching you shiver. He pulls up the blanket on your lap to cover you more, humming lightly.

"You know, I'm quite a jealous man." He says off-handedly, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles, the chain around your wrist clinking at the faint movement.

"Death has had you for so long... would it be so selfish of me to ask you to stay with me for eternity?"

If you don't remember, it's fine. After all, he remembers, and that's what matters. Ithaqua can remind you as many times as you need. After all, you can't leave.

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 5: Indiscreet (In The Future)

Unfortunately it would be a bit of a lie to say that I vibed with Indiscreet right away. Not to say that I didn't like it, but maybe my unprepared ears weren't ready for whatever this album is. It's a lot. And it's all amazing stuff!! Still, I guess it needed some getting used to before I could really GET IT too. Had to stick to the couple tracks that I gravitated towards first (and I REALLY liked those btw. A lot) before gathering up the courage to take another plunge into the whole thing. Probably a lot of that can be attributed to the fact that this was one of my very first Sparks albums: the 6th I listened to according to my notes... I know Indiscreet is a pretty big fan favourite and thankfully, for me it might just be the finest case of gradually enjoying an album more and more with each listen. And I must say I REALLY love it now. EVERY song here is amazing, no doubt about that now.

But returning to the start for a bit, I was ready to get into some more of that (glam) rock side of Sparks I already knew by then from the previous two albums, and I got a bit of that here... Not quite as much as I hoped perhaps, but that was just another fact of life to learn here: Sparks never stick to one thing for too long. And this is when I need to get into the beautiful mix of... everything that this album offers. Early 20th century big band and vaudeville next to rock and pop and even some slightly-punk-before-punk-was-even-a-thing-really, as I've seen In The Future be described as once (more or less)... And then within the tracks themselves, we'll have strings next to brass and horns next to electric guitars next to beepy synthesisers. And let's not forget the most important of them all: the whistle.

The best thing about it all though is that it does not feel jarring to have a mix of all these different things and jump from one to the other constantly. Or, at least, not TERRIBLY jarring. Jarring within reason? Jarring, but in a masterful and knowledgeable way that works in favor of the whole piece rather than against it? You name it.

I say this... quite often about Sparks and individual songs or albums of theirs but this time I mean it perhaps even moreso than ever, that this album is extremely unique and truly like nothing else I've ever heard or likely will ever hear. I'd say it poses a bit more of a challenge than some other Sparks releases but once you get through that initial bewilderment (if you DO encounter it. I'm sure many don't but many others also probably do just like I did), the reward is a really great and one of a kind musical experience.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Happy Hunting Ground: early fav that I don't really think about all that much anymore... (it's still a total banger though. And, not going to lie, seeing the live performance of this song from Dee Vee Dee renewed my love for it recently). I was REALLY into it in the beginning though. It aligning very well with my hopes for more energetic rock tracks must have been a big part of that

Get In The Swing: idk what to say about it but it's just SO GOOD! Type of song I hear before the album proper that convinces me that yes, this band here is truly something special, I need more of this

Pineapple: it fullfills every need! Most importantly the need for a very singable and delightful tune from the renowned songwriter Russell Mael. It's sure to lift my mood considerably every time I hear it

It Ain't 1918: I think if I had to cut down all of Indiscreet to one song that represents it best as a whole, I would go with this one (Get In The Swing would probably be my second choice)

The Lady Is Lingering

In The Future: DEFINITELY my favourite here, another candidate for one of the best Sparks songs overall, special shoutout to those short instrumental segments between parts of the verses, you know, with the synth line that slows down and then speeds up again?

Miss The Start, Miss The End

Profile: song so good and in line with the rest of Indiscreet that I find it hard to believe it's just a bonus track. Impressive falsetto moments, fun as heck piano lines, all of the songs here are very unique but this one is fun and catchy in an especially unique way, to me