#this lyric has always just like tore me up in so many ways

[lirotation]

Ever since a discussion about the mortality of my human Tav with my fellow Tavs on Tumblr, the idea has become an intrusive thought🤣. I couldn't shake it from my mind, so I decided to confront it. I chose to explore the worst-case scenario.

Astarion X F!Tav, warning, character death.

Oh my gosh, I couldn't think about anything else! But now I feel better =) The lyrics are from the song "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin, which seems to be popping up everywhere for me recently! It was meant to be.

_____________________

The rain poured down in relentless sheets, obscuring the old gothic manor in a heavy gray veil. Inside, the candles flickered softly as Astarion combed his fingers gently through Amaara's hair. Her skin was pale and cold under his touch, she had passed in her sleep, her life of many decades finally at its end.

Astarion dressed her in finery befitting his princess, never taking his eyes from her still face. He lifted her fragile body, holding her close to his silent heart, and carried her through the corridors of their home, the echo of his steps filling the emptiness left behind.

Down into the secret crypt below he took her. The chamber was illuminated by candles that cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. He lay her gently in an ornate double coffin, positioning her with care one last time. His vision blurred as tears threatened to spill out at the thought of an eternity without her laughter to drive away the dark.

So soon...too soon...

A dry, wrecked sob clawed up his throat as he stretched his lean body beside hers inside the casket. He turned to face her, drinking in every beloved feature - the graceful arch of her brow, the gentle slope of her nose. With infinite tenderness, he ran the back of his hand against the line of her jaw, tracing its elegant curve.

He threaded his long, pale fingers into her thinned silver hair, soft strands pooling like mercury in his palm. He cradled the nape of her neck, his thumb caressing the tender skin behind her ear just the way she always loved. Each gesture was etched with reverence and sorrow, communicating wordlessly all the affection and devotion that overflowed from his shattered heart.

In the muted candlelight, she could have been merely sleeping, poised on the cusp of awakening. But her skin was growing colder under his touch with each moment, the last of her warmth fleeing to merge with the eternal night. Soon all that would remain of his beating heart would be a decomposing shell. The anguished realization tore through him anew, and he released a thin, keening cry like a creature skewered through the soul.

At last, Astarion forced his quivering fingers to release her. With agonizing restraint, he gently smoothed back a few errant strands of her pale hair, arranging them flawlessly across the plush satin pillow.

He shifted slowly onto his back beside her. Reaching up with a leaden arm, he grasped the ornately carved lid of the casket. As he gradually pulled the heavy cover down, shadow crept over their forms. Her alabaster features were swallowed up inch by inch in the hungry darkness.

With a muffled thud that reverberated through his entire spirit, the cover closed completely. The chamber became at once a bridal suite and a tomb, its occupants trapped by cruel fate.

Astarion shuddered in the darkness. The familiar confines of a coffin, once a hellish prison, now served as his refuge from the fresh anguish threatening to consume him.

When Cazador had buried him years ago, the crushing isolation and helplessness nearly shattered Astarion’s sanity. But here, cocooned with his lost beloved, the cold casket took on the bittersweet air of a marriage bed on their final night together. He welcomed the isolation, sought solace in it. Here he could muffle the bleeding, gaping wound in his soul with the old, healed over scars of past trauma. By wrapping himself in familiar pain, its sharp sting would numb the fresh, unendurable agony of Amaara’s absence.

In this chamber of death, Astarion found his only chance for even transient peace. Here he could hold the cruelties of time and fate at bay, if only for a few decades of dreamless slumber next to his beloved. Here he could forget, could almost pretend the sweet burden in his arms still drew breath... before mere memory of her touch faded like everything else into the hungry dark.

[fluffysucker]

4. In my defense, I have none

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

TW: Talk about miscarriage. illusion to smut.

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

If you can't tell already, this chapter is heavily influenced by Folklore by Taylor Swift. I used so many song lyrics throughout the chapter. Lmk if you found them all.

PS: it's folklore. Get ready. Also, I'm NOT defending Bucky

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

Series Masterlist  

Masterlist

You should have never let it reach here. It should have been just a one-time thing. A mistake. A slip.

However, you found yourself stuck in this dilemma more times than you wanted.

After that day in the house, it happened more frequently. Whenever the kids were asleep. If the kids were having a sleepover at either of their aunts or uncles. Even as far as when the kids were at school.

Both of you were missing each other too much. It was making up for lost time. All the time, you should have been holding each other, but you weren't even talking.

The fire between you was burning flames. Not caring, it might burn you instead.

You were happy to have a part of him back. Every time, you would tell yourself, This is the last. Yet you would fall in bed with him.

And he wasn't helping at all. Saying all the things you want to hear. Fulfilling all your needs Knowing exactly how to get you so pouty in his hands.

"You're doing so good for me, doll."

"Look at you. So beautiful and pretty."

"The best mama, my woman."

"Mine. All mine."

All the stuff you so desperately missed from him

And it wasn't just this. Every time you were done, he wouldn't leave right away. From the first time, he would stay for a bit longer. Holding you. Cuddling you to his chest Drawing circles on your skin Praising you.

He satisfied every need you had. The need to be touched. The need to be loved. The need. to be taken care of. The need to be with him.

Despite not having any real conversation about your current situation, you fooled yourself into thinking that it was Bucky's way of telling you to start over. That he always belonged to you.

It was just so pretty to think that all along there were some invisible strings tying you to him.

However, whenever your mind took control again, you would see how messed up the situation was. You were divorced for a reason. He didn't want you anymore. So why were you keeping his bed warm?

That is why every time you said you would stop, you would reserve some of your dignity. You would end it, but he would show up and look at you like you had hung the moon and the stars. You would fall again.

Bucky didn't know any better either. Letting his feelings take over. His primal need to have you be his

He was aware of how selfish he was. But the reason he left was never you. He never stopped loving you. He could never stop loving you. He would die for you in secret.

Would it be enough if he could never give you peace?

This predicament was what led you right where you are. lying on his chest after he tore your body apart at his new apartment. Rebecca, Bucky's sister, planned a trip for her kids and yours. You suggested tagging along, but she refused, telling you that you needed the break. She didn't think you would spend your break with her brother.

If you closed your eyes right now, you could imagine what would happen if nothing had changed. Bucky was still your husband. Your man. The intimacy was so familiar. The feeling of his arms around you and his breath over your face, the soft kisses on your hair Your own little heaven

The buzzing of the phone scattered your peaceful bubble. Bucky reached for his phone, and a little laugh erupted from him. You shouldn't have asked him about it. Nothing could have prepared him for his next words.

"Clint is making sure I won't stand this girl he has been so bent over setting up together."

The blood ran cold in your vessels. Dreed filled your body. You could hear the sound of your heart breaking into a million pieces.

Have you really meant so little to him?

Bucky was the love of your life, and he was planning dates while you laid with him. How did it get here?

Bucky had the audacity to pull you closer to him after putting his phone down. With what little is left of your dignity. You pushed him and got up to dress up and leave. Every fiber in your being was begging you to crawl on the bed and cry, but now wasn't the time.

"Where are you going?" Bucky asked, confused about the change in mood. He wanted to hold you a bit more.

"I'm leaving. So you could get ready for your date." You were proud of yourself for disguising the bitterness in your voice. You had shown him enough.

"It's not until 7 in the evening." The audacity was infuriating. Is he acting stupid, or is he really clueless?

You couldn't be in the same room with him anymore. You took your bag and rushed to the front door.

"Doll, what's wrong?" He followed you and reached for your arm, but you moved away quickly.

"Nothing. Have fun on your date." This time you couldn’t help it. 

"C'mon, doll. I'm just going for Clint. I already plan to tell her it won't work." This was your last straw.

"And why won't it work?" You turned to him, hurt in your eyes and venom lacing your voice.

"Because you're sleeping with your ex-wife and your kids' mother." The pain was too much for you to stay quiet for longer.

"Well, in that case, you should try to make it work because it's not happening again." You finally said it.

"Wait. Why?." Bucky never wanted this to stop. He didn't want to lose you. Again.

"Can't you really see what's wrong here? Do you really think what we are doing is normal?" You couldn't believe him. Is he that delusional?

"But I want you." It was the truth. But it was a harmful one.

"You want me, or do you want to keep sleeping with me?" The question, which you tried so hard to keep at the back of your brain, rushed into your words.

"Of course not. I only ever wanted you." Bucky never meant for you to doubt yourself. His actions weren't helping, but his intentions were to never hurt you.

"You left me."

"Not because I stopped loving you."

"And that's way worse."

You were finally having this conversation. The one you delayed for so long

"You left because you got bored. The role of the husband got too much for you."

"And how do you expect me to believe you loved me when everything tells me you were going to leave anyway?."

"I wasn't. I just couldn't do it anymore. I thought I was able to get over my old issues and keep going, but I couldn't."

"You couldn't talk to me. Couldn't reach out. Couldn't try to figure out a way to solve it. No, you chose to walk out on me because you couldn't commit anymore. Yet here we are. Look at us."

"Because I can't let go."

"But you can divorce me."

Bucky had no answer to this. His commitment issues got the better of him. He shouldn't have married you in the first place if he was going to leave anyway. He shouldn't have promised to stay forever and then walked away. And he was aware of it all. He could hear it all. But nothing could have prepared him for your next words.

"I was pregnant."

It fell from your tongue. It's so hard to say. So hard to listen. But he had to know. He had to know the sacrifices you made for him.

"I was so happy. I thought this was our chance to mend what was broken. And I didn't even know what was broken. When I went to tell you, you said you were busy and left. When you came back. You didn't even bother to ask me what I wanted."

"I thought you learned to read my mind. You noticed nothing. Not the morning sickness. Not the fatigue. Not the mood swings. Not my first trimester meal. Nothing. I gave so many signs. You didn't even see the signs."

"So when you brought out the divorce, I agreed. I was so hurt."

Bucky didn't want to believe you. He knew he was distant in the last months of your marriage. But was he really that bad? To the point he couldn't hear his wife's distress calls? He was so focused on his own problems that he almost neglected your presence. The only person who truly loved him

"If you had told me, I..."

"You would have stayed. Because you got tired of being a husband and not a father. You would have stayed for the kids, but you would have hated me. We would have been miserable. I had to make the choice. I had to choose for my kids to have a good father over anything."

It was no surprise how selfless you were. Choosing him and the kids over yourself was second nature to you.

"I was going to tell you after the divorce. I was going to tell you that I just found out. So even if you asked, I would turn down getting back together."

"But the pain was too much. The stress of losing my husband The self-doubt. There were too many questions I didn't have answers to. Along with the act that I was fine with the divorce. It was so hard. I lost it."

Maybe if you had told him, it wouldn't have happened. You will never know. And it will always haunt you.

All you knew was that either way, you weren't going to win.

"I had to go drop the kids off at Nat's first before going to the hospital all by myself. I couldn't call anyone because no one knew, and the last thing I wanted was fake sympathy."

"You know what I needed, my husband. I got back to an empty house. I had to get through this all by myself. Alone. "

"I wanted you to hold me. Let me cry. Let me grieve. I needed you. And you weren't there. I had to pick up the pieces because the kids needed their mother. And I did."

Bucky's heart was shattered by how much you suffered because of him. Because he let his fears control him. Hurting the person he cherished the most. Damaging the only real thing he ever had. Your marriage.

"I tried so hard to hate you. Only remember the agonizing pain. You left me broken and bitten. You, the love of my life. The man I have ever loved. You, who drew stars around my scars, and now, I'm bleeding. "

"But the moment you touched me, it was all down the drain. You are all I ever wanted. I forgot about it all."

"Every time I say this is the last time, then I still come back to you. I love you too much to have common sense."

"I convinced myself we were changing for the better. Wanting was enough. For me, it was enough. To live for the hope of it all. Maybe there is a chance for us."

"I was wrong."

"You had me wishing you were a bad father, so you would've abandoned all of us. You had me wishing you stopped caring for the kids so I could hate you. So I can stop seeing you. You had me wishing pain on my own kids. Because I can never understand how you can be such a good dad but so afraid of being a husband."

"Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. Look at this idotic fool that you made me."

At this point, you were in a hysterical state. Tears running down your face. Sobs shake your body. Your fists collide with his bare chest. letting your anger out with the crushing pain. The last four months are finally showing. The hurt you have kept inside is out in the open.

You couldn't fight anymore. You rested your head on his chest as you sobbed. Mourning your broken heart

He hesitated to wrap his hands around you. Letting both of your tears mix together. The fact that he was the reason for your breakdown killed him.

His hold felt like a cage. Keeping you trapped because you can't let go either. You would never be free.

You stood there for a while until your sobs became sniffles. You broke from his grasp, looking at him with your puffy red eyes.

"The kids deserve better than this. They deserve the best parents. And that's where we are now. Parents. Nothing more."

You walked to the front door. You turned to look at him. Silently begging him to say something. Do something. But you got nothing. And that was it.

If your feelings for each other were too strong to handle, too complicated to solve, too damaging to save, then you never stood a chance to exist again.

Now, both of you dream of some epiphany. Just one single glimpse of relief. To make some sense of what you've seen

"See you next weekend." You said this as you closed the door behind you.

You left Bucky to face the consequences of his actions. He wanted to leave. So you left. Here, he pushed the only person who ever mattered to him. The person who loved him to the moon and to Saturn

How could he let his stupid mind get him here? He let his insecurities take over. How self-centered did he have to be for this to happen? Ruining his family and his world just for the sake of himself And he wasn't even miserable. He got into his own head. Dark thoughts that pushed him here. Thinking he couldn’t commit anymore, when all he ever needed was always going to be you.

With tears streaming down his face, all he could think about was how he got here. Why did he become the villain? His mind was running thousands of miles a second. 

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

You turned into your worst fears

And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain

Crossing out the good years

And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @almosttoopizza @ragingrainbowshipl @dexter99 @xdarkcreaturex @nash-dara @paarthurnax59 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @unaxv @missmielyhoran @wintermischief @kandis-mom

[babyhatesreality]

The Sinner and The Saint Ch 5

Pairings: Slow Burn Mob!Boss Bucky x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, f!reader, language, fake names (for now), reader is referred to by her stage name, reader still thinks Bucky’s name is Nick, everybody has secrets, reader says unkind things about herself/is insecure, reader is an exotic and extremely flexible dancer, explicit NSFW thoughts/language/conversations, subtle D/S moments, slow burn relationship. There will be many, many more warnings for future chapters including mafia and all the stuff that comes with that, kinks, and smut.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. MINORS DNI. THIS IS AN 18+ STORY ONLY AND IS NSFW. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR ANY OF MY WORKS TO BE COPIED, REPRINTED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY PLATFORM EXCEPT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs deeply appreciated. 

Previous- Chapter 4

Chapter 5

The music started. You looked up slowly. Right into those blue eyes. Your lips twisted into a devilish smile. 

Sympathy for the Duke from Moulin Rouge the B’way Musical

The music started with just a simple drum beat. You were pretty sure your heart was beating the same rhythm. 

Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a man of wealth and taste....

You took slow, calculated steps forward in time. You let your mind flood with images of the man of wealth and taste that you had just been introduced to yesterday. You brought your right hand up towards the black silk top hat you were wearing. You pinched the brim with your thumb and first finger, spreading the others so wide and strong you were pretty sure you made Fosse nod in approval from beyond. You slinkily stepped down the runway, as if you had all the time in the world, making sure to toss your impish smile out at just the right moments. Then you stopped in your tracks and looked right back into those gorgeous blue eyes. 

Pleased to meet you; hope you guess my name...

You extended your left hand in his direction as if you were presenting it for a kiss. On the word ‘name’ though, you flicked the brim of your top hat with a sassy smile. You watched as a grin cracked across his face at the irony of the song lyrics and maybe your sass.

But what’s puzzling you is the nature of my game...

You crossed your right foot over your left, slowly twisting away from the crowd as if you weren’t quite ready to give up the secrets to the game just yet. 

The song continued, morphing into a verse from You Can’t Always Get What You Want. As the orchestra grew underneath the vocals, you began to glide a bit more over the stage, back up the runway and along the mylar curtain line, just really feeling the fun and attitude of the moment. 

You can’t always get what you want; you can’t always get what you want; you can’t always get what you want....

With your back to the audience, you seductively lowered the shoulder of the silky mesh cover you were wearing, raising it back prudishly on the lyrics ‘what you want’. Then you turned to the other side of the audience and repeated the gesture. The crowd started getting more rowdy the more you teased them. 

But if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.

You looked over your shoulder, right at Nick, shot him your sassiest grin, and on the word ‘need’, you pulled the top apart. The hidden break away seams along the back and the front made it look as if the clothes were exploding off of you. The crowd lost their damn minds and were eating out of the palm of your hand. Just the way you liked it. 

And that’s when the beat dropped in the song. And you went for broke. 

You pranced around the stage boldly, owning the moment and absolutely everything about every note. It was like putting on music and just dancing around your place just for the fun of it- you lost yourself in the joy of the rhythm. Your hips rolled deliciously on the trumpet riffs as your hands trailed seductively down your form. You tore off the wrap sequined skirt in time to the music. You felt like a goddamn rockstar; that didn’t always happen so you reveled in the moment right now. You made sure to flick your eyes up to Nick’s every now and then, just to watch his reactions. A couple lines apparently intrigued him...

I’ll lay traps for troubadours who’ll get killed if they come your way....

Use all your well-earned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste....

He seemed to find something to smirk or chuckle about on each of those lines. Hmm. What was intriguing about them? Maybe he was the possessive type? Or he just found them funny? You didn’t really have time to think about that now- you surrendered to the moment, grinding your heart out and just having a fucking blast in a thong, pasties, fuck me heels, and a black silk top hat. 

Love, sister, it’s just a kiss away....

Pleased to meet you....

It’s just a kiss away....

As much as you didn’t want them to, the negative thoughts started flooding your brain. You were crazy. You had no right to think these things about a man you just met, let alone a client....but the lingering feel of his finger brushing your cheek and the nearness of those lips would not leave the forefront of your mind. It was a heady mix of wanting to back down versus willing to fight for what you wanted. Which way were you supposed to go? 

In response, and partially to reclaim your power, you had to throw your infamous leg move in the mix, making the crowd scream. Right before the last lyric, you positioned yourself in the dead center of the runway, flung your hat offstage, and looked boldly and deliberately right into Nick’s eyes, the devilish grin returning. 

Baby, what’s my name?

And you finished with a jump split, throwing your hand up in the air on the button. The crowd went absolutely berserk, but you only had eyes for one. Everyone around him was hooting and hollering, but he took a deep breath, returned the devilish smile, brought his fingers to his lips to give you a chef’s kiss, and tossed the rest of his drink into his mouth. His deep blue eyes never left yours. 

“That was our own darling Angel! And I’ll have Sympathy for any Devil that tries to take her out of Heaven,” Rhodey announced playfully over the PA system, making you giggle as you stood up, flicking your fingers goodbye, and exited. To your surprise, most of the other girls were backstage- apparently they’d come out to watch. They hadn’t done that since you very first started. 

“BABE that was FIRE!!!” Gamora moaned, snatching your robe and holding it out for you as Sprite hustled onstage to gather your things. “Shit, you’re gonna make ‘em run outta money before we even get out there,” she giggled, teasing you, as the other girls cheered and congratulated you in turn. You were even feeling a little proud of yourself- until you saw Nebula’s haughty, unimpressed face. 

“I don’t know,” she said nonchalantly to the crowd around you all. “I think it’s just because she’s new blood.” Nebula turned and smiled nastily at you. “Some people have a tendency to lose interest quickly once that ‘new car smell’ wears off.” You felt the color drain from your face as you suddenly felt like a worthless cast-off. 

Gamora, however, wasn’t having it. She turned and slugged Nebula on the arm as hard as she could. “Jesus Christ, why are you such a bitch?” she snarled as Nebula yelled in pain. “How the hell could I have turned out so fabulous when my own damn sister is such a raging cu-”

“Okay, that’s enough ladies,” Natasha interrupted suddenly, appearing out of nowhere. “Nebula, lose the attitude, watch your mouth, and get on deck. Gamora, quit punching your way into- and out- of arguments,” she commanded both of them. “Angel,” she said, turning to you with a much kinder tone. “Nice job tonight, sweetheart. Go back to the dressing room and get ready. I’ll have Sprite bring your stuff to you in a moment.” You nodded, still a little embarrassed, and turned to obey. You mouthed ‘thank you’ at Gamora, who gave you a saucy grin. You saw her glare at her sister again, but didn’t stick around to see the aftermath. You didn’t have time- you had to get ready. You were going to see him. 

27 deep breaths later, you were outside the Champagne Room, freshened up and in the outfit you’d obsessed over all day. Your insides buzzed with nerves, excitement, and adrenaline. You took your 28th deep breath and opened the door. And there he was, waiting for you. 

Nick was sitting in the same location you had first seen him last night- only this time he was holding a glass of champagne instead of a tumbler of bourbon. His black-on-black ensemble made your mouth water for some reason; he was too handsome for his own good. You watched with secret delight as he desperately tried not to let his eyes rake up and down your body; it was obvious he really wanted to. You tried to keep that compliment close in your mind and not let it twist into another self-insult. He spoke first. 

“Bravo on a fantastic performance, Miss Angel,” Nick said, standing up and waltzing over to the bar, his eyes never leaving yours. He began pouring you a flute as he continued speaking. “Gotta say, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen someone strip to the Rolling Stones.” You giggled at that, blushing and ducking your head at his compliment. He strode back to you, his very steps echoing the power you felt him emitting. He gave you the glass, then clinked his own against yours. “Cheers,” he said. 

“Cheers,” you replied, biting your lip and looking down, trying to contain your stupid wide grin. 

“Uh uh,” he said sternly, shaking his head. He put a finger under your chin and raised your eyes to his. “Look me in the eye when you say ‘cheers’,” he said firmly but not unkindly. 

Something in your very soul instantly responded to him, drawing you like a moth to a flame. You wanted to do whatever he told you to. Almost before you realized it, your eyes had locked back onto his. “That’s better,” he almost purred. He clinked your glasses again. “NOW cheers,” he said, with that mischievous grin. 

“Now cheers,” you agreed, your heart rapidly beating its new rhythm, trying to make up for the beats it had just lost. You hastily took a huge swallow just as he finished his. 

“You have to look people in the eyes when you cheers,” Nick explained, a hint of the devil in his smile. “Otherwise it’s seven years’ bad sex.”

You choked on your champagne. 

Nick carefully patted you on the back as you spluttered, not even trying to hide his puckish grin. Once you could breath again without fear of champagne splurting out of your nose, you glared at him. He just chuckled evilly before returning to the couch and sitting down. 

“I’ve never heard that medley of Stones’ songs before,” he said, back to his charming self. He seemed to hide a bit of a smile as you sat down next to him- no hesitation this time like yesterday. “Where’s it from?”

“It’s from the same musical as the song that I...” you suddenly stuttered a bit. The idea of saying ‘danced to for you’ last night seemed indecently intimate for some reason (which was ridiculous as you WORKED IN A STRIP CLUB, you internally yelled at yourself), and you just couldn’t make those words come out of your mouth. “...performed last night in here,” you cobbled out lamely ugh loser. 

Nick nodded, choosing not to comment on the moment. “You like that musical,” he said as if he were observing something about you. “You a theater fan?”

“Big time. You?”

“I might have to become one, if those are the kind of songs they’re doing nowadays.”

The next two hours flew by as the two of you talked and talked and talked. You were only supposed to spend one hour with him, but when Fury poked his head in to tell you time was up, Nick just waved a hand at him. Normally, that would have made Fury toss any other patron out on his ear, but this time he just nodded back and carefully shut the door. Who was this guy, to hold that kind of power over Fury?

Thinking quickly, you tilted your head to the now-closed door. “You paying for the second hour, then?” you asked boldly, feeling a lot more loose after the fantastic conversation you’d been having. 

“Something like that.”

“You must be running up quite a tab here.”

“Don’t worry. Natasha will track me down when the check comes.”

“Do you...often run up a tab here?” you asked, your steel persona slipping a bit, afraid of the answer. Nick seemed to understand that. He leaned forward, tilting his head at you and letting those blue eyes twinkle. 

“Not like this,” he said softly. “Never like this.”

You were so delighted at that you couldn’t speak for a moment. He seemed to enjoy you getting flustered, but took pity on you and changed the subject. In fact, he seemed to do that a lot. Any time you tried to steer the conversation towards his job or why he was such a high-roller at the club, or even his name, he masterfully swung back around to something that would distract you just enough to get off the subject. You knew better than to push in a direction he didn’t want to go...but you definitely noticed he was doing it. And it made you curious. Very curious. Two could play at that game. 

Despite his best teasing efforts, you refused to give up your real name until he did- which he was not about to do in the slightest. It often resulted in a spirited and creative verbal battle that, more often than not, left you both in tears of laughter. 

Finally, when it was getting clear that the night had to come to an end, he stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, feeling like a rockstar again. This man made you feel like a rockstar. That had never happened...in this way...before....

He escorted you to the door, then kissed your hand reverently. You wished with all your might he’d take off those gloves and touch your skin again, or even more you wished he’d just lean forward and kiss you. It’s just a kiss away...But he straightened up, smiling handsomely at you. 

“Bravo again on your performance tonight. I look forward to tomorrow’s,” he said chivalrously. 

“‘Pleased to meet you’,” you quoted to him sassily, with a grin. He responded with his own. “‘Hope you guess my name’,” you teased with the lyrics that you had known would capture his attention.

His grin morphed in that heady combination of sex appeal and power, making you instantly melt. And he noticed it, closing the already-small gap between the two of you. 

“‘But what’s puzzling YOU is the nature of MY game’,” he whispered wickedly in your ear. “Until tomorrow, Miss Angel.”

Chapter 6

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

oh dear, here's some lyrics for a vaggie country song about falling for lucifer's daughter oops~

I’m sinner down in hell a wingless angel who never fell ‘till the devil’s daughter so softly took my hand

Lived my life ‘till twenty five last year on earth I was alive I died and woke there at the pearly gates

The angels smiled and grabbed at me applauding at my destiny to have found my way- somehow- up there with them

One angel stood up from the rest with golden wings and puffed out chest said the first original man on earth was he

He whispered “I’ve a job for you a special one, just for the few!” he looked me up and down and said “You’ll do”

They gave me armor that fit too tight gave me a blade, told me to fight and earn the spot in heaven I don't deserve

They showed me how to use a spear told me to fly down once a year to cull the rising tide so deep in hell

With tarnished halo on my head I killed those souls already dead on ashen wings, by the hundreds, struck them down

Then there among the demons wild impossibly, I saw a child- crying as he cringed from me in fear

I couldn’t strike, he was so young I let him go, I told him run and turned as a shadow fell from above

A blade cut my own left eye free as the angels tore my wings from me and left me, saying “there’s no place for you up there.”

I threw away all that they’d gave with hell itself as my self-dug grave in an alleyway, awaiting for judgment’s call

Now here’s the part that’s hard to tell of how the princess, herself of hell found me, and gently bound up my wounds

Her taloned hands were soft and kind she knelt in filth, didn’t seem to mind and the only flame burning in her eyes was care

I caught a glimpse beyond divine as her brimstone breath mixed with mine without a word, I swore my soul to her

But of all the things for her I’ll do be her friend, her lover, and her armor too- one thing I cannot give is the truth

She's sure there’s a second chance found in even the darkest soul of sin if only someone gave to them a hand

So how could I ever explain how many souls of them I've slain and all the chances that I took away

She’s all I have, she’s all I need I fell to Pride- I belong in Greed- more than salvation, all I want is her

So I’ll keep quiet and tell half lies and burn in the fires of her eyes every time she shares her sweetest smiles with me

If that’s the price I have to pay then here in my own hell I’ll stay standing ever always by her side

Oh Charlie, if someday you know if you look at me and tell me go I’ll reach for you a last time before I do

Betrayal is the word for this faithless lover with every kiss in every night you held me as I cried

This sorry song will have it’s end only so far the truth can bend and when it breaks, I know that we will too

I lived my life ‘till twenty five last year on earth I was alive I died and woke there at the pearly gates

Now I’m sinner down in hell a wingless angel who never fell ‘till the devil’s daughter so softly took my hand

Like a moth drawn to the light I’ve no will in me to fight the Morningstar that leads me to my fate

Charlie- heaven can’t compare to any hell that has you there and I hope you never doubt that part is true  

even if it's sinful- how much that I loved you

[erbodd]

A Wolf's Eye

This little story is meant as a present for an artist I admire, who became a friend and someone I respect and care for a lot. I first wanted to draw something, but I’m better at writing than drawing. I’m no “writer” though, by any means, and probably write stories like a 15-year-old with too big a will for happy endings and sugary love.

This is based on something I used to do when I was a very bad student at school. I’d ask for some imposed terms I have to use. Not just mentioned in a description but integrated into the story in a coherent manner. When I did that at school, I would even ask for the hero of the story, and once wrote the marvellous adventures of a mouse. But for this one, I gave myself the courtesy of choosing the protagonists. One would expect Pelle and Varg, but they’re much better in their hands than mine, so I went for the pair I’m the most comfortable with.

Here is what I asked for, and the perfect answers @plusvanity gave me : 

A colour: titanium white An animal: wolf A country: Sweden An household / everyday use item: a warm blanket A season: winter A song with lyrics OR specific lyrics: For Emma - Bon Iver

-Me before starting it : This is going to be so easy, I was already planning for winter and the lyrics are so fitting! -Me after writing about 50 words : Fuck me…

______________________________________________________________________

The sunset was stretching its golden beams across the landscape. Sat on the roof of the cabin, basking in the fainting warmth of the sun, was a blonde haired man. His eyes were closed and his mind was wandering. Winter had a way of sneaking memories in there, mostly bad, sometimes good. He shook his head to push any unwanted thought away. He wanted a clear mind so he could come up with new lyrics.

Being alone and just looking at nature was a good way to do that. He would often do it as an escape, since his younger years back in Sweden, and the habit has stuck with him. However, it was less and less of an escape and he truly enjoyed these rides now. It helped that the scenery was different from what he was used to, bringing something fresh to his sore mind. Yet, Norway was similar enough to Sweden in its decor to give him this sense of home and comfort that his old home didn’t give him anymore.

He would admire the landscape, see it move and change to become what he wanted. From a warm orange sunset, he would imagine a dark blue cloudy sky instead. All those beautiful evergreens, he would picture them dead with charcoal black bark. Where there is a house, in his mind it would turn into a castle made with old grey stones and lit by torches. In a window, there would be a shadowy figure cloaked in darkness, its watchful eye towering the scene. It would be cold, rough and gloomy, just the way he likes it. Later, he would pull out some paper and sketch his visions to turn them into something more tangible. He would scrap many, but some would be true to the images in his mind and worthy of keeping.

The sound of a door opening and some steps coming from the porch underneath him tore him from his reverie.

“Pelle? It’s getting dark, where are you?” “Up here” he answered, waving his hand. “Why are you on the roof?” he asked, slightly annoyed to have to step out in the cold. “The view. Come join me” he offered, pointing at the ladder. “I don’t deal with heights very well. Can’t you come down?” “You make me come down.” he dared him.

Øystein groaned and left, slamming the door shut, enough to make the wall and the windows shake. The blonde chuckled. For some strange reason, his friend’s temper would always bring a smile to his face. He resumed his contemplation but now, his mind was blurred, like an old television that got stuck between two channels. He sighed and climbed down carefully. Night wasn’t yet covering their part of the world, so he made for the trees instead of going home.

He walked on a path he knew as it was too late to venture in any new direction. His steps were confident, each one taken exactly where he had to in order to avoid a cavity here or a stump there. This allowed his mind to wander once more, free from any other thought. It was one of these moments ; your mind is invaded by a melody, it’s nostalgic, distorted like an old record, and it feels eerily familiar even if the name eludes you. There were no words, only notes that escorted his stroll in the forest.

He stopped and blinked a few times, adjusting to the unexpected drop in daylight. It felt as sudden as an eclipse, plunging the forest in darkness right after he realised he had wandered away from his regular path, too lost in thought. He fumbled carefully, going from a tree to another, taking slow steps until there was no tree left so he had to walk blindly, both hands in front of him.

Tripping on a shrouded obstacle, he ended up with his hands and knees in the cold snow. He was about to get back to his feet when he heard a low growl. As far as he knew, there were no dangerous predators in this forest, he would have noticed by then. But the sound filled him with a sense of dread he never felt before. Daring to lift his head, he looked around and was met with two bright golden eyes surrounded by titanium white fur that almost blinded him. The creature’s outline started to appear inch by inch as Pelle got used to the obscurity. It was a wolf, a huge one, and it was only a few feet away from him. He was frozen in fear save from the slight tremor the cold gave him as it crawled into his skin from his hands and knees.

The wolf started to inch closer and closer at an agonisingly slow pace when all it had to do was pounce on him to tear him up. Pelle hoped this was a dream or an hallucination, that he got lost in the forest and was now slowly dying of hypothermia, his mind protecting him by creating this weird fantasy. The wolf came close enough to sniff him and circled him before it sat, his mesmerising gaze locked on Per.

“We trip, we fall, we get up and try again until darkness becomes light and there is nothing left to fuel our fears. Only then can we live. Only then we are free.”

His voice was deep and distant, like the echo of an ancient deity that took pity on Pelle in his dying moments. The wolf came to his side, its icy fur grazed Per’s body and it took him a few seconds to understand it was offering help. He held onto him and lifted himself up, realising the cold had numbed his legs so much that they were shaking as he straightened up. The wolf retreated into the depths, leaving him alone with his freezing body and clouded mind.

A faint light caught his eye in the distance. Unconsciously, he knew he had to go that way. Gradually, it became brighter and his path was visible. However, he kept his attention to the source, understanding his surroundings from sole peripheral vision. From an unknown shape, the light became a rectangle. A door. A strange figure appeared in its frame, it was short, had long hair and wore a cloak of sorts. It came out from this divine gateway and seemed to float above the ground. Taking his steps at the same time as the figure, Per circled it like a predator would with its prey, avoiding the light and placing himself to the side of whoever it was.

“Pelle! It’s really cold now! You’ll freeze to death!” “No, I won’t” “Fuck! Don’t startle me like that!” “Sorry, I won’t do it again.” he promised, his playfully smile hinting otherwise.

Øystein opens his arms to invite Pelle inside. He meant inside the house, Pelle understood inside his arms. So that’s where he went, sliding his arms around the Norwegian and laying his head on the guitarist’s shoulder.

“You’re cold!” “And you’re nicely warm.”

Giving up, the shorter man wrapped his singer with the blanket as best he could, shielding him from the cold.

“Come inside, please.” “Were you worried about me?” “...Always.” he answered in a whisper.

He noticed Øystein was blushing. Or was it only the cold? Pelle didn’t care, he found it cute. He’s warming up already, but from the inside, from this foreign feeling of being cared for.

In the distance, the wolf was watching. His fur so white made him stand out from the fainter tone of the snow. As the wanderer he is, the lone wolf invites to explore the trails yet unblazed. Would Per understand this sign? Would he travel on this foreign road? Only time would tell, but Pelle would not forget his fall into the uncanny valley any time soon.

[batgirlsay]

Falling Through Time

A Legend of Zelda AU Playlist for Obiyuki Bingo 2023 by @snowwhite-andtheknight

I was so excited to see Zelda on my bingo board! I’ve been playing Tears of the Kingdom almost every day since release date and I have so many Zelink feels… glad they also overlap with my Obiyuki feels! (This one is a more general Zelda playlist and has specific Obiyuki feels, but I am also posting a playlist for the first day of Zelink week too!)

There are time/memory related lyrics throughout the playlist, with a shift after the Louie Zong song to after they get reunited at the end of each game (if only I was able to get there…)

Falling Through Time

Ocarina of Time- Zelda’s Theme- Good Knight Productions You Fall When You Hesitate- Mae Playing With Fire- Brandon Flowers The Great War- Taylor Swift This River is Wild- The Killers My Valuable Hunting Knife- Guided By Voices Gerudo Valley Social Club- Louie Zong I Can Make You Feel Young Again- Copeland

Summary lyrics are cited after the cut:

You Fall When You Hesitate- Mae

Time machine, I'm adding up And I'm killing time all the while it’s time that's killing

Time machine, I want to go back To live in my past is exactly right where I want to be It's nostalgia haunting me

She says to me that You fall when you hesitate You crawl after tripping on your regrets You fall in and out of love again

Found the reason I could back down to dust See the daylight and the moon lit in the night above That's the treason but I do it for your love If I felt you But what if I failed you?

Playing With Fire- Brandon Flowers

That road outside that you've been taking home forever That'll be the same road that I take when I depart Those charcoal veins that hold this chosen land together May twist and turn but somewhere deep there is a heart

However dangerous the road, however distant These things won't compromise the will of the design

Ten thousand demons hammer down with every footstep Ten thousand angels rush the wind against my back

Rolling River of Truth, can you spare me a sip? The Holy Fountain of Youth has been reduced to a drip I've got this burning belief in salvation and love This notion may be naïve, but when push comes to shove I will till this ground

The Great War- Taylor Swift

Spineless in my tomb of silence Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War Always remember Tears on the lеtter I vowed not to cry anymore If wе survived the Great War

Soldier down on that icy ground Looked up at me with honor and truth

We can plant a memory garden Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair And we will never go back

This River is Wild- The Killers

But you always hold your head up high Cause it's a long, long, long way down

You better run for the hills before they burn Listen to the sound of the world, don't watch it turn I just want to show you what I know And catch you when the current lets you go

I've been trying hard to do what's right But you know I could stay here all night And watch the clouds fall from the sky

My Valuable Hunting Knife- Guided By Voices

I want to start a new life With my valuable hunting knife She will shine like a new girl And I want to shout out our love to the world

Days, they will turn into nights But my valuable hunting knife It will not rust through the tears And it will not lose its appeal over years

I Can Make You Feel Young Again- Copeland

Take me now, take me anywhere you're going Cause I can't stay here; I won't make it long And this piece of my soul you're controlling In this time and this space where we belong, it's worsening

It's breaking down, as a reel of thread unwinding You're surfacing just to take me down When I feel like I'm dead, you're reviving me

A billion stars and here we are The same bit of dirt holding our weight And before it drags us under I can make you feel young again

I can make you feel nothing at all for the years that led you here Now all your tears that are falling will never show I can make you feel young again

[daylightaftertherain]

ok ok sea bestie

i know i sent one of these to you yesterday but i'm also lowkey losing my mind over how wilmon coded the great war is so

let's get into it

My knuckles were bruised like violets Sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked Spineless in my tomb of silence Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

(coming back after break at the beginning of s2 but then again at the end of s2. just how the whole thing feels like a fight against everyone else except for them)

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War Always remember Uh-huh, tears on the letter I vowed not to cry anymore If we survived the Great War

(just how after everything, they still came back to each other again. they couldn't help but reach for each other. they're each other's safe space, despite everything that happened between them)

You drew up some good faith treaties I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone You said I have to trust more freely

(definitely more simon coded in this verse. like how he's so used to trying to deal with things by himself)

maybe it's the past that's talkin' Screamin' from the crypt Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did

(this gives me, locker room fight vibes)

It turned into something bigger Somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed

(august and sara and that whole scene on the gun range)

Looked up at me with honor and truth Broken and blue, so I called off the troops That was the night I nearly lost you I really thought I lost you

(when simon is walking away from wille in that scene following the whole gun range scene but ALSO this could apply to when wille decides to "let simon go" at the valentines dance)

I vowed I would always be yours

(the end shot and sequence of s2)

they make me go INSANE

that's all for this one but it DOES make me lose my mind when i think about it too hard

-miels 💜✨

miels my love I'm so sorry this is so late but here are my thoughts to this stupidly wilmon-coded song <3

okay intro is actually giving me strong s1 vibes. "my knuckles were bruised like violets" wille was in a literal fight and is metaphorically fighting with the crown over going to hillerska. he texts his mother asking to go back at night, aka "cursed you as I sleep-talked." "spineless in my tomb of silence" like how he didn't say anything for simon during the denial (which I know isn't his fault but this song is simon's pov so)

and YES the chorus is sooooo s2 them, with the way they keep finding each other and trusting each other unconciously and relying on each other like oh my god ahsgfjdgkd

also "drew my curtains closed" is such a simon lyric. yknow that comparison between hiw he got thicker curtains after the video? yeah. and "I vowed not to cry anymore" could mean so many things because simon's dealt with so much shit, not just from the video, and he never allows himself to be vulnerable around people outside of his close circle, and we see his past affect him throughout the show

and the way taylor sings "somewhere in the haze/got a sense I'd been betrayed" ugh I KNOW simon would be all over this song

okay now for the BRIDGE it's literally just the valentine ball in song form I swear to god, even down to the "broken and blue" line and wille's color palette including blue. also the verse after the bridge??? "say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair" religious and war imagery+wilmon my BELOVED (also the poppy symbolizes remembrance for people lost to a war - erik, august, and sara??). "there's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair," is basically s2 wilmon looking back on the morning after their first time, after all the golden lighting has drained from their lives and they realize what happened that morning.

anyway I love this song and I love you and your asks mwah <3

-💛✨

[bisluthq]

Because it’s very possible that the general sequence of events that “Joe is boring/sucks/doesn’t want to marry me and so, I turn to other man” was actually “I want other man and emotionally check out in a major way, Joe becomes isolated and relationship breaks down”. I don’t think the timing of when she started to interact with MH again (fall/winter 2021 is seemingly when Jack worked on their album) also being the exact same time their relationship started to have serious problems is a coincidence at all. It’s almost like when you’re seriously interested in someone else, that eventually wins out and your relationship struggles and you start to find faults in your partner that you didn’t before. And she actually pretty much says this herself, that this other person merely telling her they’ve “always wondered” tore her world apart. As in, that was the catalyst. not Joe being sucky, but the other person expressing an interest.

Ehhhh tomatoh tmahto imo. She wasn’t that into him anymore. That was because of annoying shit TO HER that he did lol (and maybe she told him and maybe she didn’t idk I wasn’t there and the lyrics don’t say anything either way). Point is like she wasn’t that interested in him anymore, she was bored with him, and she wanted to try again with her ex (and this didn’t work out for her). That’s largely what happened. Obviously for her - without a great deal of therapy and like thinking about this stuff which imo she would never do - it’s because he was boring and she wanted the not boring option? I don’t really understand what you’re quibbling about. Obviously he thinks it was her fault it fucked out (implied in his interview, implied in SLL tbh) but obviously she disagrees? People have different takes on things that happen to them even if both people are involved in the situation like everyone is operating from their own position and POV right like that might not/probably isn’t shared with anyone else???

we have these friends - and I know I always story time but it’s how I understand life right like through stuff that happens to me or my friends - where they broke up last august and he only moved out start of this month. They had/she now has a 2 br place so he just moved into the spare room and they stayed living together but like it was MAD WEIRD like sometimes they’d fuck (not often) and mostly they’d just be besties and flatmates which like fair because property is expensive and besties are hard to find so they were doing this weird thing for literally almost a year. Now he’s finally moved out and he won’t tell her or any of their mutuals (so us too) where he’s living so my bf and I, who are kinda cowboys lbr, are like “so he has a girl he’s living with/is very seriously seeing” because WE see no other reason for the secrecy. But here’s the thing: from her perspective she tried many times to fix it and from his perspective he tried many times to fix it and we know this because they’ve told each of us individually and us as a couple and also like we’ve conveyed that to the other person like I told the guy like “she doesn’t want you to leave” and my bf told the girl “he doesn’t want to leave” because as far as we know, they didn’t want that and did love each other but like their communication skills were and are so terrible with one another and they’re both SO WEIRD that now he’s off living somewhere else with what Mr Bislut and I assume is a new gf and she’s in their old place and ostensibly happy he’s gone but in practice phoning me like every other night crying (she called me once even when I was in hospital, pre him moving out, and I was like “dude people think I OD’d and I’m in hospital I really cannot counsel you through this right now”) and idk man maybe they could’ve fixed stuff and maybe they couldn’t have because I’m not an oracle but I do know they didn’t fix anything ever.

I also know a lot of stuff that upsets her is silly like she loves to compare my rs to theirs and say shit like “but you guys do weekends away and went to Europe and he never takes me anywhere!” (and that’s a bad takeaway from us because he actually doesn’t take me many places - I pay for our weekends away when I can afford to and he drives and Europe like he paid flights and accommodation and I covered food and entertainment so he’s not “taking me” places like we “go places” sometimes when we can afford it and haven’t had a month of health issues) and like “but he’s introduced you to his whole family and you’ve introduced him to yours and my one’s embarrassed of me” (which like the first part is true but it’s also different because we’re both childless creative professionals and her ex is a divorced dad with two teens on the spectrum - who he did introduce her to - and that was his second marriage so idk introducing gfs isn’t the walk in the park for him it might be for other people) etc etc etc. I don’t think she should be comparing their thing with ours because ours is also complex (age gap etc) but like we make it work because we work on it? Anyway.

moral of the story being, people are complicated and we are all very unreliable narrators of our own lives? Ergo so is Taylor? Ergo so is Joe (not that we publicly know his perspective but just saying)? Like they’re limited by being yk human people living their lives and not scripted characters??????

I don’t think Taylor’s lying from her perspective and I think expecting her to offer more depth to it would deny her her humanity tbh. She’s allowed to be human.

[juniperkinglet]

📕Who is your all-time favorite author, and what makes their writing so special to you? 

🔖What quote from a book resonated with you deeply?

ty for asking!! (this got long oop)

Who is your all-time favorite author, and what makes their writing so special to you?

Oooooh it's hard to say... For many of my favorite books, I haven't gotten around to reading more from their authors, or those authors haven't published anything else. I do have a few current contenders though!

First is Lee Mandelo, author of Summer Sons. I entirely credit that book for getting me back into reading after many long years. I genuinely didn't know books like this could be published; books that delve into grief and depression in such a relatable way, into themes like toxic masculinity and classism from a queer & trans perspective, into protagonists who are far from heroes but are still treated as humans worthy of love and second chances. All featuring a lyrical gothic prose in line with the way I process my surroundings. Absolutely blew my mind, and made me feel like I wasn't alone during a very lonely period. And I wouldn't have heard of aftg or made this tumblr without it!

Second is horror writer Poppy Z. Brite (now Billy Martin). I just started reading his work, most of which was written in the 80s and 90s. I got a collection of his short stories that tore my entire heart out of my chest and spat on it (affectionate[??]), and then immediately bought two more of his books lmao. Currently working through Lost Souls. His writing and its themes are deeply disturbing in a visceral way that I wouldn't recommend to most people, and only with the disclaimer of... basically every content warning you can imagine. Not a gentle intro to horror!

I like the way his stories challenge me, even if it's a kind of challenging I can't take very often. I love his prose (more of that lyrical goth shit I adore). And I admire how, in many of those short stories in that first book, I would hope deeply for a happy ending for characters I'd just met, and was never any less shocked and devastated when I didn't get it. That takes skill.

Third is Pia Foxhall, aka not-poignant on tumblr. I had no idea how much their writing would affect me when I first stumbled across it, like... woah. And most of it uploaded completely for free on ao3!! (I did buy one of his romance novels, but since I'm not much of a romance enjoyer, it didn't grip me as much as his other work.)

The first story I read of theirs, and my all-time favorite, was Falling Falling Stars. I read half a million words of it in three days (not recommended) (canceled all weekend plans) (barely ate or slept) (don't regret but would not repeat). It was my first time reading a POV character who also had OCD and debilitating intrusive thoughts, and I can't explain how much that meant to me. Spending all those words with him ended up making me a much kinder person, to others and to myself. I had major shifts in my view of the world and humanity, all for the better, thanks to that story.

is my author type "transmasc dark fiction writer of deeply flawed queer protags that make me rethink my entire outlook on life"?? maybe so!

What quote from a book resonated with you deeply?

this is sooooooo hard there are so many!!! i'll limit myself to two.

"...Steve's even breathing, the breathing of a man at peace with himself and at truce with the world." -- from Angels by Poppy Z. Brite

It may not seem like a super hard-hitting quote, but it was for me. I gasped out loud and just stared at it for a long while before continuing on. That has become my goal in life. The world is a scary place, for everyone and especially minorities, and I struggle with so much bad brain stuff every day. Loving myself and the world is just too lofty of a goal that's always felt impossible for me. But being at peace with myself, and at truce with the world? That's attainable. I could get there, and it would be enough.

and then an aftg banger:

“Your parents are dead, you are not fine, and nothing is going to be okay. This is not news to you. But from now until May you are still Neil Josten and I am still the man who said he would keep you alive.”

So many lines to go crazy over in this series, but this is the one that always gets me. There's something oddly beautiful and comforting about hearing a character straight up say "Everything is awful and you won't get a happy ending, we both know that. But I'm going to protect you for as long as I can anyway."

It just gets me!! Even though Neil did get a happy ending, it certainly never looked like he would. And I love that Andrew stuck with Neil throughout all that, and didn't give him false platitudes or pretend his situation wasn't awful. It was all kinds of awful, and Andrew was someone with whom Neil could be honest about that, when he couldn't be honest about anything else.

[alloftheimagines]

⤏ ray's lyrical writing prompts ⤌

hello! i decided to put together a list of writing prompts based on some of my favourite song lyrics. feel free to share and use for your own fics. my requests are always open if you want to send me some too! you're also welcome to let me know of any suggestions to add here—i'm going to keep updating this as i find new ones. have fun!

"even though my dizzy head is numb, I swear my heart is never giving up."

"I’d kill just to watch as you’re sleeping. I hope that you let me in time."

"don’t you leave me in this silence when you’ve seen all my mistakes."

"you kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath." 

"you call me up again just to break me like a promise."

"every drunk step I take leads me to her door. if she sees how much I’m hurting, she’ll take me back for sure." 

"grabbed your suitcase, called a taxi. it’s three a.m. now, where you gonna go?"

"you talk of the pain like it’s all alright, but I know that you feel like a piece of you’s dead inside." 

"maybe won’t you take it back? say you were trying to make me laugh and nothing has to change today. you didn’t mean to say I love you."

"today’s my birthday and you’re still not there." 

"I come to you in pieces so you can make me whole." 

"it’s that time of year again and you know I’d like to buy you something, but you know that I’ve got nothing."

"cleaning up today, found that old zeppelin shirt you wore when you ran away."

"you’re not mine anymore but I’m still a little bit yours."

"she will always hate me, no matter what I say, there is no mistaking the love is gone."

"you find yourself at my door just like all those times before. you wear your best apology but I was there to watch you leave." 

"this is the last time I let you in my door."

"spreading you open is the only way of knowing you."

"friends just sleep in another bed and friends don’t treat me like you do."

"we’re dancing round the kitchen in the refrigerator light." 

"we got work in the morning but it’s nearly five a.m."

"so we’re gonna start by drinking old cheap bottles of wine, sit talking up all night, saying things we haven’t for a while. we’re smiling but we’re close to tears. even after all these years, we just now got the feeling that we’re meeting for the first time." 

"I won’t sleep till you’re safe inside."

"no grave can hold my body down. i'll crawl home to her."

"the smell of your body is still in my bed."

"run and hide, it's gonna be bad tonight 'cause here comes your devil side. it's gonna ruin me."

"maybe i'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new."

"tore my shirt to stop you bleeding."

"and if somebody hurts you, i wanna fight, but my hand's been broken one too many times. so i use my voice, i'll be so fucking rude."

"never got the chance to say a last goodbye."

"if you must die, sweetheart, die knowing your life was my life's best part."

"do you know your lip shakes when you're mad?"

"i won't let you close enough to hurt me."

"i want him but we're not right."

"i pull you in to feel your heartbeat. can you hear me screaming please don't leave me?"

“how can I give you all of me when I’m only half a man?”

"you found me with a door locked. i only went upstairs to cry."

"strangers to lovers to enemies."

[arcanadreams]

OM Brothers as Hozier songs

I am a cottagecore lesbian, therefore this post was inevitable. Anyway here are the Hozier songs I think resonate most with the boys and their relationships to MC! Each will have a little explanation blurb (tho I am writing this before I start so I’ll probably get carried away asjdgkdj)

this is very different from my usual style so feedback would be greatly appreciated!! thanks :D

Lucifer -  As It Was

You are the home Lucifer comes to after losing his first one. He can never go back to the Celestial Realm, the place he was born and raised. But he doesn’t even want to when you are with him. 

You, and all that you are, are home. Being with you makes Lucifer feel a joy like he did before the otherness, the War, came. He never thought he could feel that way again. You are as bright as the lights of the Celestial Realm; a light he thought he would never see again. A light he thought he had dragged both himself and his entire family away from forever. But here you are, in front of him, shining with a light he had almost forgotten despite his best efforts to remember. 

And your love for him is unmoving. You know his past, you know his present, you know the worst sides of him. Hell, he tried to kill you before! And yet...your heart remains unmoved. He will never be able to express his gratitude for the way you waited for him, waited for his pride to subside, waited for him to realize the depth of his feelings for you. You welcomed him with open arms when he finally came home.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The drug, the dark, The light, the flame The highs hit the heights of my baby And its hold had the fight of my baby And the lights were as bright as my baby But your love was unmoved

Tell me if somehow Some of it remains How long you would wait for me How long I've been away The shape that I'm in now Your shape in the doorway Make your good love known to me Or just tell me about your day

Mammon - Sunlight

Your love is sunlight. Pure and simple. Your love is sunlight to Mammon, who has not known a soul like yours since the Celestial Realm. He loves his brothers, and he knows they love him, too, but their love feels conditional. Your love for him is unconditional, and you tell him so every day through the way you look at him.

He still doesn’t know how you put up with his waffling for so long. With the way he ran away from your affections, the way he put up walls between you to protect his aching heart. If your love was like his brothers’, if it required him to change...he didn’t think he ‘d be able to bear it. 

But you were stubborn. Almost as stubborn as him! And when you finally reached a stalemate you confessed. The moment “I love you,” left your lips, Mammon knew he was lost to you. He was lost in this foreign feeling and the only way out was in your arms. And from that moment he knew he would never leave your embrace, never leave your wonderful heart. 

He would sooner die before he let his sunlight be taken away.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Oh, the tale is the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight At last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight All that was shown to me, sunlight Was something foreknown to me, sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight Oh your love is sunlight But it is sunlight Sunlight

and

Each day you rise with me Know that I would gladly be The Icarus to your certainty Oh my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight Strap the wing to me Death trap clad, happily With wax melted I'd meet the sea Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight

Leviathan - Like Real People Do

Levi has never cared for the company of others who are real, who are not figments of some grand author’s imagination. All they do is hurt him. He has had too many heartbreaks in his life to let anyone else into his story. He is a lone side character.

But then you came bounding into his book and tore apart every page with self-loathing words written on it. He fought you tooth and nail, but you just kept digging, straight to his heart. You dug yourself in deep, so deep he couldn’t move you even if he wanted to. Which, of course, he can’t even imagine doing now.

You’re real. And so is the love you have given him. With each kiss you prove to him that he is not some side story. He is the protagonist of his own adventure. You are his love interest, written to fit perfectly against his side when snuggling on dark nights. 

It took your arrival for him to realize just how much he longed for the company of real people, for the affection of real people. And I don’t mean in the literal sense of real- I mean people who are real with him. People who are truthful, who won’t hurt him with stinging words, barbs aims right at his psyche. You use your words to guide him without crippling him, and he is so thankful for that.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

Satan - Shrike

Satan had no idea there was any goodness in him. No idea he was capable of anything with a shred of goodness in it. That was, until you came along and showed him just how long his stone heart had only been lying dormant. It was never useless, as he had suspected. It just needed a skilled stonesmith to chip away at it carefully, which is exactly what you did.

Even as he felt you cracking away at his walls, he would not tell you how he felt. He knew from the first tap of your gentle hand on the rough rock of his heart that he was yours. That he always would be. But he could not utter his love. How was he to know if you did this to everyone you met? Was he as special to you as you were to him? Or was he just another sculpted heart in your collection?

He couldn’t hold out for long, though. Not when you were housing him in your heart’s warmth with no mention of reciprocation required. What was your scheme? Why were you showing such goodness to him, and at the same time revealing he was capable of the same? 

But when you whispered words of love to him, it all fell apart. The last chip of stone covering his heart shattered, as did his resolve to hide his love from you. He knows that you two will always be together, even after this lifetime ends. Perhaps the two of you will return, him as a thorn and you as his shrike.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

I had no idea on what ground I was founded All of that goodness is going with you now Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted All of my goodness is going with you now

and 

I was housed by your warmth Thus transformed By your grounded and giving And darkening scorn Remember me love when I'm reborn As the shrike to your sharp And glorious thorn

Asmodeus - Nobody

Asmodeus, unlike his brothers, has known love. He has bathed in love, breathed in love, slept in love. He knows love. And yet, in all his years, he has known no love like your love. 

Your love is a wholly new phenomenon to Asmo. So pure, unfiltered, unconditional. Surprise picnic dates you spent all weekend planning, bouquets of flowers waiting for him on his bedspread, hugging him when you’re all sweaty after a jog because you know it bothers him. There is a fondness in your every action, even when you simply pick a nail polish shade for him to use for the week. It is an unfamiliar sensation for Asmo to feel such love through an accidental brush of the fingertips.

Because of this, Asmo never wants you or your relationship to change. Damn everything he has known before, damn the opinions of anyone he knows, damn what he knows of love! Your love is the only love he cares to know, now. Your love and everything that comes with it. 

Asmo has had many adventures and love affairs in his time, and yet you are the only one he never wants to end.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

And I think about you though everywhere I go And I've done everything and I've been everywhere, you know I've been fed gold By sweet fools in Abu Dhabi And I danced real slow With Rockettes on dodgy Molly But I've had no love like your love Ooh from nobody I'd be appalled if I saw you ever try to be a saint I wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave But I want you to know that I've had no love like your love

Beelzebub - NFWMB

You are part of Beelzebub’s family. You have been ever since you slept beside him, holding his hand to keep his nightmares at bay. You are his family, and nothing fucks with his family.

Beelzebub’s family is his heart and soul. You are his heart and soul. He would do anything for you. Your little finger is stronger than any arsenal in the Devildom, because you have Beel wrapped around it. But part of the reason you have him in the first place is because he knows you would never use that to your advantage. You do not see Beel as a weapon, or a hungry beast, or a danger, nor even as an annoyance who empties the fridge every two days. No, you see him as Beel. And that’s all he can ask for. That’s all he wants.

Your affection for both him and his brothers is something he cherishes more than anything else. Nothing will harm you as long as he can help it. He has lost his family before, and he will not lose any ever again. The second your fingers interlocked with yours the night you slept at his side, he knew no harm would ever come to you from that moment on. 

Lucifer started a war for the ones he loved once long ago, and now Beelzebub knows that he would do the same.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing can get a look in on my baby Nothing fucks with my baby Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing If I was born as a black thorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you, held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies Ain't it warming you, the world goin' up in flames? Ain't it the life where you you're lighting off the blaze? Ain't it a waste it watch the throwing of the shade?

Belphegor - Would That I

Ever since the death of Lilith, Belphegor feared the fires of love, the fires of feeling, of emotion. He stomped on the embers of his heart and vowed never to light them again. It was easier to feel nothing than it was to feel her loss.

And then you...you and your blinding light, arrived. He hated you at first. He killed you, tried to put out your fire the same way he put out his own. But even death couldn’t douse your flame. You were a wildfire, one that had already spread to all his brothers and rapidly came to set him ablaze too.

It didn’t take you long to light him up. He knew it wouldn’t, but he still tried to fight it at first. The first word you spoke to him in the attic told him that if he were to ever burn bright again, it would be by your hand.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even after he had killed you, you fought to ignite the long-dead pyre of his heart. Your persistence wore him down until his lazy nature decided it would be easier to give in and let you burn him. He expected pain, expected scars, but instead he simply felt warmth. Your warmth. All the years he spent in the cold without even realizing it were suddenly over. He was warm in your arms, and he never wanted to leave again.

The lyrics I think resonate most with him:

With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw rise in the heat Settle soft and as pure as snow I fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I cut loose I was never the same Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Laying waste to my loving long ago But that's not tonight  Where I'm set alight  And I blink in sight  Of your blinding light  And it's not tonight  Where you hold me tight  And the fire bright  Oh, let it blaze, alright, honey 

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

I'll Write This Scene a Thousand Times - Ch1

AO3 Link || Next Chapter

Ship: Moceit (Janus/Patton)

Warnings: Alcohol, Implied sex, one-night stand, rumours and scandal, swearing, I would recommend a 16+ readership, but since this isn't actually explicit I guess use your discretion?

Summary: For all accounts and purposes, Patton Hart should have been able to make it through his twenties in the music industry without coming face to face with a scandal. The perfect package of talented and adorable, with family connections to boot, all he'd had to do was keep out of trouble, and he was good at that.

He hadn't counted on running into Janus Lyre. The beautiful, frustrating, devil-may-care actor evidently has some sort of effect on Patton, driving him to make the sort of mistake that never would have crossed his mind previously. Now, with their faces plastered across the internet and fledgling careers on the line, the two of them need to keep the lie of their fleeting relationship sustained.

‘The sweetheart and the snake’ - has Janus Lyre found a new ‘Hart’ to break?

Less than an hour after being photographed at the premiere for his own movie, the young star was seen at a swanky downtown nightclub - guess that’s one flick we won’t be catching!

But, dear readers, that’s not the most interesting part. With Lyre’s turbulent record over his few years of fame, one might say playing hooky is just a minor infraction for the beloved bad boy, but the same can’t be said for the cutie hanging off his arms in those photos! Some of you might have already recognised those cute brown curls and sunshine grin, and as hard as it may be to believe that is indeed Patton Hart.

The youngest son of now retired singer Ophelia Hart has made quite a name for himself recently, with his sugary sweet lyrics and impossibly innocent persona - impossibly being the operative word. Is the golden boy finally rebelling? Or had there always been a darker side to Hart, hidden behind the saccharine pastel branding?

---

Logan Wright: Just saw the news. Need to talk immediately. Send me your location, I can arrange for you to be picked up safely.

Logan Wright: Patton please pick up my calls

Logan Wright: I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how urgent this is??

---

Patton groaned around the headache coursing through his skull as he paced the wooden floors of the darkened bedroom, willing the phone in his hand to be still long enough for him to figure out what to do.

This had to be a bad dream.

Patton Hart was not the kind of guy to wake up in another man’s bed with a bad hangover, barely any memories of the previous night, a hundred missed calls from his manager, and compromising pictures of himself spread all over the internet.

Maybe if he just crossed his fingers real hard and opened up twitter again, it would all just be gone and he would wake up in his own home, sans migraine, and everything would be just fine.

Nope. Patton’s own besotted face was the very first thing that greeted him as he opened the app, gazing up at Janus Lyre of all people. He felt like he was looking at a stranger as he flicked through the images despite his own surmounting dread. He watched this weirdly confident version of himself, practically draping himself over a man he barely knew, grinning as Janus leaned in to whisper in his ear, kissing him in the street outside the nightclub, his own unfamiliar hands running through long dark locks, wandering down to lithe waist and hips, pulling their bodies even closer.

Patton felt sick. He had to call Logan, he knew that. Logan knew how to fix things, he would handle this.

Then again, Patton had never given him something like this to fix before.

The tweets underneath the photos ranged between a variety of reactions, from confused, to shocked, to disgusted to “always knew Patton Hart had a dirty side”, to “Can’t wait to see how long Janus keeps this one around.”

To be perfectly honest, all of them made the sea of dread and nausea in Patton’s gut rise and lurch.

“This is so bad,” he muttered to the figure that had just appeared in the doorway, glass of water in hand.

“Oh is it? Is it really? Oh, thank you so much for telling me, I would definitely have forgotten just how ‘bad’ this was if you weren't here to remind me.”

Janus Lyre was infuriatingly cool, in a way that no one really had a right to be in the mornings - let alone on this morning. Somehow, even in sweatpants, with his tousled hair tied back in a low ponytail, he managed to make Patton feel awkwardly underdressed for having put his own clothes back on. His smudged eyeliner, a relic of the night, only added to the effect of his condescending eyeroll.

Regardless, Patton was grateful to accept the water, and the aspirin that was dropped into his palm with it. At least he was a gracious host, all things considered.

He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, sipping slowly as he picked at a rip in his rumpled jeans. He could feel the weight of Janus’ eyes on him, but he didn’t want to look up. It felt like he’d be doing something wrong, shameful even, to be looking at the other man right now, despite all that had already transpired between them.

He didn’t know Janus, not really, but he had known of him. At least, he’d known he was bad news. He was an incredible actor, from what Patton had heard, and had managed to flourish in the past couple of years despite his young age and apparent lack of industry connections.

…Unfortunately, his incredible acting wasn’t all that he was known for. Janus’ name frequently popped up with regards to his sardonic responses to the press, disregard for convention, insulting important names in the industry, and generally being considered trouble.

Patton had often wondered how the man hadn’t been blacklisted yet. He never thought he’d end up tangled up with him in any way, much less this literally.

“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re getting how serious this is,” he protested, “I - I just don’t understand how - there are pictures, Janus, everywhere, I have so many calls-”

Janus looked almost amused, as he leaned casually against the curtained windows, quirking an eyebrow at Patton.

“Oh dear, not pictures !” he mocked, “I take it this is your first time getting caught ‘ in flagrante’?”

“Wha- yes,  of course!” Patton flushed.

“Well, don’t worry then, the first time is always the hardest,” Janus responded lightly, seeming as though he was getting quite bored with the conversation, and by extension, with Patton.

“I don’t exactly intend there to be a second time, just so you know,” Patton snapped,” I didn’t even intend for there to be a first time, quite frankly-”

Janus did look amused at this, grinning smugly as he replied, “Oh, is that right? You and I appear to remember last night very differently.”

“I’d really rather not talk about last night, thanks.”

“I’d happily talk about anything else. You are the one that keeps bringing it up,” Janus shrugged, before turning on his heel to face the window, tugging the curtain open by the corner, just enough to invite in a thin stream of light.

Patton might struggle with nuance sometimes, but even he understood that - Janus had got the last word in, and now he was done talking.

He huffed in annoyance, but it didn’t stop his traitorous eyes from following the graceful movement, tracing the dark lines of the tattoo that marked Janus’ light brown skin, a massive serpent that coiled and looped all over one side of his slender frame, seeming almost to writhe, hypnotically, with the slightest movement.

Patton tore his eyes away quickly, tugging self consciously at his own sweater sleeves. The cool water had helped slightly, but he could feel the dread settling in his stomach again. He didn’t belong in this situation, having wild midnight trysts with ridiculously pretty men, and whatever confidence the alcohol had apparently given him last night had evaporated, leaving him utterly unprepared for light, flirtatious morning-after banter.

“Um, well,” he cleared his throat and stood up, “I should probably go now, and call my manager to fix all this. Thank you for, er - the water, and last night, I guess, and I wish you all the best, of course.”

Janus didn’t even turn around to respond, “Oh, and I don’t suppose you’ll need transportation arranged?”

“No thank you,  I can find my way-”

“And give the press an opportunity to catch you leaving the den of the snake? In the same clothes you entered in, no less?”

“I-”

Luckily, Patton didn’t have to come up with a clever response, because Logan - his dear, wonderful, manager Logan - decided to call him at that very moment.

“...I have to take this.” he muttered triumphantly, turning around to lift the phone to his ear, “Hi, Logan, I am so, so, sorry - I meant to call you, I just-”

“No time,” Logan’s phone voice was as always, clipped and professional, and he got straight to the point, “I need to see you. Immediately. There is much to discuss. I trust you’ve had enough foresight to remain at Lyre’s residence and not step outside?”

“I - I’m still here, yep.” Patton blushed.

“Good. I’m sending a car, don’t leave the building until it arrives. And bring Lyre with you, please.”

“You want to meet Janus?”

“The subject I need to discuss with you also concerns him, so yes.”

“Oh- um, okay, I’ll bring him. Um, do you need an address?”

“No need, I have it.”

“Already? How?”

“That is my job, Patton.”

“Right, right, fair enough. Okay, I’ll see you.”

---

Patton had a flashback to middle school - the one time he was sent to see the principal for bad behaviour - as he knocked nervously on the door to Logan’s office.

“Come in.”

He heard a scoff from behind him as he took a deep breath, preparing to open the door - it had been a struggle to get Janus to come along.

Just as he’d expected - and feared - Logan was wearing his “I am a professional and thus I am not going to get upset” face. What he hadn’t expected, was that this look didn’t seem directed at him.

Leaning back in the chair next to Logan’s, high heeled boots on the desk, was a man that Patton had never seen before - and between the half-black, half-silver mullet, curled moustache, and bright green glitter, he was pretty sure he’d remember if he had.

His eyes skipped over Patton entirely before settling on Janus and lighting up.

“J-Anus!” he cackled, “Thanks for not picking up any of my calls from last night, asshole!”

“Remus, good to see you,” Janus sighed, “Looks like your mummy called my mummy,” he whispered loudly to Patton.

To Remus, he said, “I do apologise, Remus, I turned my phone off because I was busy not watching the movie I was in. I’m sure you understand.”

“Ahem,” Logan interrupted, “Mr Lyre, thank you for coming in, Patton, this is Remus Rey, Mr Lyre's manager. Please take a seat, Remus and I have much to discuss with you.”

Patton waved politely at Remus, who winked back.

“Well first things first, I’d like to say congratulations to you both-”

“Remus.”

“-But that was nasty fucking trick you pulled there, Jay! You promised me you’d stop disappearing from important events! You know how much work I have to do to clear that shit up?”

Janus shrugged like a petulant teenager. “Got bored.”

“I really am sorry for putting this on you, Logan.” Patton could see Logan’s knuckles tightening, a familiar tenseness in his jaw, that telegraphed that he was Not Having a Good Time.

“That’s - not to worry, Patton,” a twitch had started to develop in his right eye, “technically speaking, this is - my job.”

“And he’s pretty damn good at it if he’s managed to keep you out of trouble this long eh, Patty?” Remus cracked in, “I mean, for what it’s worth, I always knew there was more to you, but the two of you really had the rest of those idiots fooled, huh?”

“Um…”

“ Anyways,” Logan interrupted through gritted teeth, “Whilst the two of you were missing in action, so to speak…”

Patton sunk a little deeper in his seat. He wasn’t looking at him, but he was pretty sure he could feel Janus roll his eyes from beside him.

“...Remus and I had a chance to sit down and decide how to deal with this in a way that will benefit both parties.”

“ Oh, how fascinating, do tell .”

Logan, apparently much better equipped at dealing with smart-ass comments than Patton, ignored Janus entirely.

“Now, the two of you may have your reservations, but I request that you please hear us out before rejecting the matter entirely.”

“Now, the two of you may have your reservations, but I request that you please hear us out before rejecting the matter entirely.”

“Of Course we’ll hear you out!”

“ ...Yes, because that request didn’t raise any suspicions at all.”

“Remus and I think the best way to spin this current...situation to our advantage, would be with a relationship contract.”

There was a silence in the room for a minute as the full meaning of Logan’s words settled in. Well, a silence accompanied by Remus tapping out a rhythm on the edge of Logan’s desk with his - admittedly fabulous - acrylic nails. After what felt like a full minute he grinned at them.

“Pretty good, huh? It was my idea.”

”Yes, well, I cannot exactly deny that Remus was the one to suggest that,” Logan grumbled, “However, I do support it entirely, and am happy to proceed with your consent.”

“You want us to...date?”

“They want us to pretend to date,” Janus interjected, “A few staged photos, attend events on my arm, everyone thinks this was a sweet little lover’s outing and not a drunken fling.”

“See, I told you mine was smart!” Remus grinned proudly at Logan.

“...Indeed,” Logan nodded at Janus, “I understand you might have your compunctions, but this is the best way for us to spin this into something... close to brand-appropriate, for Patton. And as for you, Mr Lyre-”

“We’re hoping we can make it look like you’re finally setting down, starting to behave yourself, or some horseshit like that,” Remus cut in, “I gotta keep you booked somehow, Jan-Jan.”

Another long silence filled the room - and even Remus stayed quiet for this one. Patton stared at his lap. He didn’t exactly feel great about this sort of thing, but Logan had said it was the only way. And heck, this sort of stuff happened all the time in this line of work, he knew that. Right?

Janus spoke up first.

“How long would this contract be, exactly?”

“We were thinking one year,” came Logan’s reply.

A whole year?

"I assume there are rules?"

"Behave as though you're in a relationship, perform for the camera when necessary, and if you intend to have outside relations, do try to keep them private - or better yet, don't."

“...I’m amenable,” Janus said finally.

And then, Patton could feel three sets of eyes on him, waiting for a response. Logan, calm and expectant, as ever hiding his impatience behind professionalism. Remus, toothy-grinned, leaning forward as if he was watching a sports match.

And Janus. For the first time with sober eyes, Patton levelled his own gaze with Janus’. His face was as inscrutable as ever, but Patton could feel the unspoken challenge behind his mismatched eyes. Asking him whether Patton Hart could handle something like this. Or worse, outright stating that he couldn’t.

…Or maybe Janus wasn’t thinking any of that and it was just Patton’s own loopy consciousness egging him on. Either way, the words slipped out of his mouth before he even thought them.

“I’ll do it.”

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART FOUR

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

Warnings: fighting with parents and some swearing

---

The bright sunlight hit your eyes and you squinted a little as your feet hit the driveway.

Julie’s song was still playing through your head, and so was your conversation with her last night. The passion in her voice when she sang was the same as when she talked about her mom.

You wanted to run in and comfort her somehow, but Luke seemed insistent on staying outside, making Alex grumble next to you.

“Dude, why did you stop me? Julie needs a hug.”

“A ghost hug is not the feel-good moment you think it is. Trust me.” Luke said. What Julie needs is some privacy.”

“I think you poofed us out because you can’t handle when other people cry.” Alex waved his finger in Luke’s face, making you frown at his words.

It wasn’t a secret that Luke wasn’t the best with feelings, but he had always been there for you. Last night in the darkroom, and again at the diner, and countless other times.

“I should know,” Alex continued, gesturing between Luke and Reggie. “I cried in a room for 25 years, and I didn’t get a single hug from either of you.”

Reggie sighed, opening his arms. “Bring it in.”

“Don’t touch me!”

“This is why no one but (Y/n) hugs you.” Reggie mumbled as you rubbed Alex’s arm.

“Okay.” Luke interrupted. “So, once we get the courage to go in there, we should ask Julie why she lied about playing the piano.”

Alex shrugged. “And maybe tell her how amazing she is?”

You nodded and Reggie exclaimed. “She’s legit! I got ghost-bumps.”

Just then, the gate leading to the house swung open and a girl made her way down the pavement. As she got closer, you could hear her sobbing quietly.

“Oh no, was she crying too?” You asked as the girl entered the garage.

“Yes!” Luke shivered. “We definitely can’t go in there.”

“No, but we can listen.” Reggie ran towards the door, standing on his tip-toes to peek through the window.

“Guys! We can’t eavesdrop, that’s creepy!” You whispered, but the boys ignored you and crowded the door.

Seconds later, they all ducked to avoid being seen and you couldn’t help but be curious. So you ran over and squeezed yourself between Luke and Alex.

“I’m not okay!” The other girl shouted. “You got kicked out of music! I’ve been up all night thinking about what I was gonna say, and I might’ve had seven sodas but I need to get this out.”

“Flynn-” Julie started but Flynn shook her head and started ranting.

“Jules, if you leave the music program, we’ll be apart forever. Sure, we’ll see each other in the hallway sometimes but we’ll make new friends.”

“That’s not true.” Julie said.

“You’re right, I won’t make any new friends. The only time we’ll contact each other is by liking each other’s posts on Instagram. Every time I hit that little heart, mine will be breaking because my best friend left me.”

“What’s Instagram?“ Alex whispered to you. You shrugged, making a mental note to ask Julie later.

Julie sighed. “I just played piano and sang again.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was trying but then your seven sodas kicked in.” Julie laughed.

Flynn squealed. “I’m so happy for you! Look at you, looking all alive again. What made you play again?”

Julie slid her mom’s song across the piano to show Flynn and you couldn’t help but smile. You obviously hadn’t known Julie for long, but you were so happy that she reconnected with her mom and music.

“I was so scared to play it, cause everything having to do with music reminds me of her. But I woke up this morning, realizing that’s exactly why I should play it. To keep her memory alive.”

“We need to tell Mrs. Harrison that you can play so you can stay in the music program. My girl’s back! Double Trouble lives again.”

“Not our band name.” Julie laughed as the girls started walking out of the garage.

“Shit, she’s coming!” You whispered. “Act natural.”

You and Reggie sank to the floor, Luke leaned on his arm and Alex pretended to inspect the light hanging above you. Julie made eye contact with you and smiled.

“Oh, hey!”

Flynn turned around and watched Julie expectantly. Julie laughed awkwardly and started skipping down the driveway.

“Let’s hustle!” She grabbed Flynn’s arm and started walking up the stairs, waving goodbye.

“We weren’t listening!” Reggie said, earning a pinch on the arm from you and a kick to the ankle from Luke. Julie started swatting the air, trying to play it off like there was a bug, and pushed Flynn up the stairs.

As soon as she was gone, you made your way back into the garage. You sat at the piano bench, mindlessly playing the few chords you knew.

“I wonder why Julie didn’t tell us she could shred on the piano.” Reggie said.

“It probably has something to do with her mom.” You guessed, your fingers gliding across the keys.

“Yeah, that must’ve been hard.” Alex added before climbing up to the loft. “I really feel for her.”

“Yeah, but now she’s got music back in her life. Just like us.” Luke said, reaching over and hitting the note next to your finger.

“Yeah, I’m not sure you can call what we have a life.” Alex said and you snorted. “Hey, I think some of our old clothes are up here.”

He threw down a black trash bag filled with clothes and you sighed in relief. The night you died, you wore a plain pair of jeans, and your favorite old t-shirt of your dad’s. You usually wore one when you played a gig, so that a part of him could be with you in some way and of course; Luke’s jacket.

And as much as you loved your outfit, being in the same clothes for 25 years was not exactly sanitary, even by ghost standards.

“Sweet!” Luke exclaimed, taking off his shirt.

Shit!

You tried as subtly as possible to look away before anyone saw the blush on your cheeks, and you thought you had gotten away with it until Reggie laughed from across the room.

You sent him a glare, but that only made him laugh harder.

Suddenly, the studio doors opened again and Julie’s dad came in. He had a sad look on his face and a camera in his hands. It had ‘Ray Molina’ engraved on the handle so you figured that was his name.

The man walked right through Reggie, making him shudder. “That was weird. But somehow I can tell this man has a kind heart.”

“So, how have you been?” Ray asked, his voice heavy.

“Honestly, not that good.” Reggie said and you rolled your eyes. “See, we ate these hotdogs and-”

“Julie sang for the first time again this morning.” Ray took a picture of the room. “She hasn’t done that in almost a year. You would’ve loved it.”

“Yeah, we heard cause we-.” Reggie wiggled his fingers in front of Ray’s face. “Oh, I get it. He's not talking to us."

"Dude, you are so lucky you play bass." Luke said.

"I think he's talking to Julie's mom." Alex sighed.

Ray started walking towards the piano. "She's such an amazing young woman."

He started running his hands on the keys so you slid off the bench. You knew you definitely shouldn't be listening, this was definitely not something you weren't meant to hear but you couldn't help your curiosity. "Everyday she reminds me more and more of you."

"Called it!" Alex cheered.

Ray shifted the camera between his hands. "I'm taking pictures for the real estate website. I don't really wanna move, but...it's what's best for Julie."

Alex came down from the loft and you all crowded around the piano. Luke stared at Ray with wide eyes. "Move?"

Ray gently played a few notes of a ballad before he spoke again. "There's so many memories out here. Like, Julie sitting next to you and Carlos trying to sing with his missing front teeth."

Luke let out a shaky breath and you realized he was crying. It wasn’t until a tear rolled down your cheek that you realized that you were too. You frantically wiped your eyes, doing your best not to break down.

Ray was exactly what you always pictured your dad used to be like, and his love for Julie was exactly the same kind you knew he would've had for you. Thinking about your dad made you think about your mom, and that made trying to stop crying a whole lot harder.

"Come on guys, not you too." Reggie said.

"It's just...he's talking about moving but the poor guy doesn't wanna move." Luke sniffled.

Ray stood up and took a picture of right where you were all standing. "It's like they grew up out here."

Reggie fanned his face. "Now he's got me too."

Alex scoffed. "Okay, how am I the emotional one?"

"Can we go see my family? See how they're doing?" Reggie asked, his voice shaking a little.

You nodded. “Yeah, listening to this doesn’t feel right.”

Just as you go to leave, Ray laughs. "Remember when the kids were at your sisters and we came out here on our anniversary..."

"Yeah, no! " Luke cringed. "Definitely wrong.”

-

The beach was where you spent a lot of your free time when you were alive.

Usually after a long day when you just needed a place to work on new lyrics in peace. But sometimes after playing all day at the pier, the boys would drag you down to the water and you would all stay there as long as possible. Away from parents and responsibilities.

But just like everything else, it had changed so much.

"A bike shack," Reggie sighed. "Right where my house used to be."

"I'm sorry, Reg." You rested your head on Reggie’s shoulder.

"Why couldn't they at least have turned it into something cool like a pizzeria or something?"

"They tore down the whole neighborhood." Alex said.

"I guess my folks are gone."

Alex kicked his foot into the sand. "Everyone's gone. Twenty-five years, gone. Friends, family, Bobby, everyone."

That was another person you hadn't wanted to let yourself think about. Even though you and Bobby weren't super close, he was still a part of Sunset Curve. He could be a little bit of an asshole sometimes but he was still your friend.

"Bobby, that's right." Reggie said. "Guess that vegetarian lucked out. Wonder what happened to him?"

"He probably just got old like everyone else and moved on." Luke grumbled.

"Dude, how are you so chill about all of this?”

“Yeah, don’t you want to figure out what happened?” You asked.

“Let’s be real for a second.” Luke exhaled, clearly getting worked up. “It’s not like any of us were close to our families. My parents always regretted buying me that guitar. Reggie, your parents were literally a fight away from divorce.” 

Luke ran a hand through his hair as he ranted, talking with his hands the way he always did when he was upset. “Alex, I- Your parents were never cool again after you told them you were gay.”

His eyes landed on you and he seemed to ease up a little. “(Y/n), you practically raised yourself since your mom was gone all the time.”

“Yeah, okay.” You said. “None of us had it great.”

“But at least we had something! What do we have now?” Alex shouted. “And before you say cool teleportation, I’m not cool with that either. It tingles. In weird places.”

Luke sprang to his feet. “I’ll tell you what he had. It’s what we’ve had since the day we came together. Guys, we have us. We’re the only family we’re ever gonna need. You wanna know what else we got?”

“I’m gonna guess death breath?” Reggie said.

“Our music, you dork.” Luke laughed. “People can hear us play again! They can’t see us, whatever, but they can feel us. I wish I had my guitar.”

Suddenly, the air around you made a sharp ‘whoosh’ sound and Luke’s six-string appeared in his hands.

“Whoa.” You said.

“How did you do that?” Reggie asked.

“I-I don’t know. I mean I wished for it and then...” Luke played a few chords and beamed.

Reggie jumped in place with his arms open, trying to wish for random things before he eventually gave up and slumped into the sand.

“I think I know what will cheer you up.” Luke said. He played the opening of ‘This Band Is Back’ and you couldn’t help but smile. Out of all the Sunset Curve songs, this was one of your favorites.

“Come on, Reginald.” Alex said as he started hitting his legs and chest to make a beat.

You offered Reggie your hand and pulled him up as Luke started the countdown. Reggie took it and twirled you around, effectively getting sand in your shoes. You laughed and spun him around before dragging him up to the tables in front of the restaurants as he sang.

The people around you seemed confused by the sudden music, but they danced around anyway. You forgot how much you loved seeing people react to your music. Watching them dance and smile made all your worries float away, even if it was just for now.

And for the first time since the Orpheum,

It really did feel like the band was back.

August 1994

It was just after sunset when you called the Patterson house.

The sound of your mom slamming the front door was still fresh in your mind and before you could stop yourself, your fingers were flying across the buttons. Luke was the only person who knew about your relationship with your mom. 

You didn’t want to worry Cece, or Alex, or anyone else. But hiding things from Luke wasn’t easy, especially with how stubborn he was. So you told him everything, and he told you,

‘Call me next time, okay?’

The line only rang twice before someone picked up. “Hello?” 

It was Emily, Luke’s mom.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep from crying. “Hi, Mrs. Patterson.”

Emily laughed and you could practically hear her roll her eyes fondly. “(Y/n), sweetie, what did I tell you about calling me that?”

Even though you and Luke had been friends most of your lives, you had only met Emily a handful of times. Luke didn’t really like hanging out at his house, especially when he started fighting with them regularly. Still, Emily always treated you like her own kid whenever you were around.

“Sorry, Emily.” You said. “Is Luke around?”

You heard some shuffling as she called out for him and after a few minutes, Luke picked up the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi, are you busy?” 

“No, why?” He asked.

“Well, I made enough cookies to feed a small country and my mom’s gonna be gone for the night so I thought we could hang out.” You rambled. “Maybe finish ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Luke laughed excitedly. “Yeah, sure! Give me like 20 minutes.”

Luke’s laugh was so infectious that you had to fight through a giggle. “Okay, see you soon.”

As you went to hang up, you hear Emily’s voice again. She was teasing Luke about something but all you caught was the word ‘Girlfriend’, making you turn bright red.

You put the phone back on the hook just as the oven beeped to signal that it was ready to bake the cookies. You put them in the oven and turned your attention to the huge bowl of cake batter in front of you. At this point, there wasn’t anything left in the kitchen you hadn’t baked.

There was no way you would be able to eat all of it, even with Luke’s help. But you needed something to distract yourself to keep your mind from overloading.

True to his word, Luke arrived twenty minutes later, bursting through your front door and screaming the Indiana Jones theme song at the top of his lungs. He skipped his way into the kitchen, immediately sensing something was wrong when you didn’t join him or even acknowledge his presence. 

“(Y/n)?” Luke approached you slowly.

“Hey.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, not looking up from the bowl. “So, you ready to finally finish this movie?”

Luke didn’t say anything as he scanned the kitchen. There were piles of cookies and cooking utensils all over the counter, and you had flour in your hair. You could see the realization flash across his face through your eyelashes.

“Okay, you’re baking everything in the house, which can only mean one of two things,” Luke said, his voice becoming more serious as he jumped up on the counter. “You either watched Sixteen Candles unsupervised again or…”

You stayed quiet as you slowly stirred the batter. It was ready to put in the pan ten minutes ago but you needed something to do to distract yourself.

Luke’s hand gently gripped yours before taking the spoon from you and letting it fall into the bowl. You looked up at him to find him already staring at you with a furrowed brow.

Damn it.

You should’ve known he would see through your thinly veiled excuses and promise of cookies. Luke was more observant than people gave him credit for.

“C’mere,” Luke said, opening his arms. You moved between his legs and buried your head in his chest, covering his shirt in tears, flour, and batter. But he didn’t seem to mind as he rubbed circles into your arm with one hand while the other cradled your head.

“She hates me.” You said through a deep, shuddering breath.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Luke reasoned. “It’s impossible for anyone to hate you.”

One of the things you loved about Luke was his protective streak when it came to his friends, and the way that no matter what, he could only see the best in them.

And as his best friend, you were pretty much perfect in his eyes. Which meant that when you didn't immediately agree, Luke launched into a rant.

"First of all, you're like the smartest person in the world. You manage to get good grades while also working at the diner three days a week which is nuts.

Secondly, your voice is insane! And your lyrics, (Y/n), we wouldn't even have half the Sunset Curve songs without your killer songwriting skills!"

"You done, Lu?" You joked as you pulled away just enough to look up at him, trying not to blush. No matter how hard you tried to play it cool when he complimented you, it always made you melt inside.

"I'm just saying," Luke laughed softly. “You are literally the best person I know, Squeaks.”

You let out a watery laugh at the mention of your childhood nickname. It was one that Luke had given to you in 4th grade after he put a bug on your arm and you had squeaked in fear.

“And just think,” Luke whispered, his voice sounding a little wistful. “One day, we’ll get signed to a label and end up somewhere far away from here.”

“We barely started making our demo.” You said, making Luke scrunch his nose in the way that always made you giggle. "Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

“Nope.” He smirked. “Okay, I gotta ask, were you planning on baking this or is this a new look you’re going for? ‘Cause I gotta be honest, it’s not your best.” Luke said teasingly as he swiped some batter from your cheek.

“Oh, really?” You asked, dipping your finger in the bowl and smearing the batter across Luke’s face, making him gasp. Then you took a slight step back and hummed thoughtfully. “Definitely looks better on me.”

“You know what?” Luke scoffed, trying to hold back a smile and before you could blink, he reached into the bowl and flung the spoon at you, splattering your shirt. “I think you’re right.”

“Jerk!” You laughed, wiping off your shirt as Luke tried to lick the batter off his chin but he only managed to make an ever bigger mess.

“Did I get it?” He asked, making you giggle.

“Not quite.” You reached forward and carefully wiped it off, desperately trying to focus on anything other than how close your faces were. But it was impossible when you could feel Luke’s breath on the tip of your nose. “There.”

Luke’s face was unreadable as he looked down at you. The playfulness had evaporated in the air and was replaced with something else that you couldn’t really read either. Just when you thought the moment would last forever, the timer for the second batch of cookies rang through the kitchen, and you practically bolted to the oven.

You pulled them out and put them on a plate. “So, you know that we have to watch Sixteen Candles now, right?”

Luke groaned, pretending to be annoyed. Even though he would never admit it, you knew he secretly loved romance movies. “Fine, but Raiders of the Lost Ark after?”

“Deal.”

As Luke went into the living room to start the movie, you sighed to yourself. Maybe you would never have a normal relationship with your mom.

But you had your band, your friends, and even if it wasn’t exactly in the way you wanted; 

You had Luke.

-

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @nxacomposts @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13

Let me know if you wanted to be added!

[crowdedimagines]

Leaked Pt. 2 - Harry Styles

PART ONE

Harry and I follow Gemma back into the house. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the chill from outside that seems to linger in my bones now. We take a seat back at the table, everyone seems to be stressed and tired of talking, I don’t blame them. I’m thankful Harry and I got a break from it.

“Alright, so we were able to detect what they had access to and what was downloaded from the online server.” Andrew, whose name I learned, says looking at both Harry and I to explain.

“So what else did they get?” Harry questions, he sits up a little straighter in his chair.

“It looks like they also had access to some audio files.”

“Audio files?”

“What? The studio version of medicine?” I tease, assuming that whatever it was can’t be too bad. Harry’s had songs leak before, even if it’s something that ended up being scrapped it can’t be the end of the world. It can’t be as bad as a leaked image of us across twitter.

“No, it looks like they only took several files dated July 15th of 2019.”

“July 15th?” I raise my brows.

“What happened-” Harry starts to question the significance, but it instantly clicks for me. All of the humor and lightheartedness I had is knocked right out of me.

“Fuck-” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. The chill that clung to my bones is gone now, now I can feel myself break out into a sweat. Harry turns to look at me and as soon as our eyes meet I can tell that it’s clicked for him as well.

“It’s our song” Harry states, his voice so quiet that I’m sure not everyone in the room caught it. His voice is soft and low, barely registering.

“Your song?” Anne prompts, her face full of concern as she notice’s the color that’s completely drained from our faces.

“Can we clear out the room for a few minutes?” Harry asks, he takes his hand in mine and nods for Anne and Gemma to fill the seats that have now been vacated.

“Can I?” Harry looks at me for permission before continuing. I give him a soft smile and nod, at this point I’m glad they’ll know. I’d rather they know than the whole world.

“July 15th was the day Y/n and I got back from the hospital.” Harry swallows, “The day before Y/n had suffered a miscarrige.”

The silence in the room is louder than I could’ve expected. Gemma and Anne look at each other, obviously shocked before turning their attention back to us. Their expressions seem just as solemn now.

“So the audio file is?” Gemma looks between us confused.

“So together we wrote a song for our daughter.” I nod, tears slipping without being able to stop them.

“It was really therapeutic, I think we both sobbed through practically the whole thing.” He looks to me and I just nod and agree. Harry’s hand still hasn’t left mine.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to find out this way.” I pull my head up to finally make eye contact. Tears are still slowly streaming, but I’m able to blink past them, “We had been so excited to tell you guys that we were expecting and it was only a few weeks after that we had already lost her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Anne says, her eyes filling up with tears of her own at this point.

“So this was right before you guys broke up.” Gemma realizes, “Is that-?”

She doesn’t seem to be able to finish her own thought. The air in the room is a little too heavy. If I wasn’t drained before, I am now.

“Partly.” Harry nods.

“It wasn’t a lie that the stress of always being apart tore us apart, but going through something like that and then having to fly across the world. We didn’t get to heal from that together, and it ruined our relationship.”

Third Person POV

Slowly the group makes their way back in. Harry makes it very clear to all of them that they need to do everything in their power to stop that audio file from seeing the light of day. It crushed him to see the defeated look on Y/n’s face. She looks exhausted. Harry can’t pull his eyes from her saddened face every couple of seconds. The last thing he wants is for her to feel emotionally exposed as well as physically.

“Y/n, why don’t we go off to bed.” Anne gets up from her spot and places a gentle hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She only nods and lets Anne lead her up stairs. No one else at the table comments, no one dares. Harry’s eyes follow her as Anne wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk up the stairs.

Anne leads her to Harry’s room, knowing that she was bound to stay there after everything that’s happened today. No one can blame her for being so tired, it was only a few hours ago that she landed. She’s had her body exposed to the world and now there’s the potential for one of the most intimate parts of her to be exposed as well. Today has been the day from hell for Y/n.

Y/n changes into one of Harry’s shirts and tucks herself in under the covers. It’s been over a year since she’s been in this bed. Anne comes back in to check on her, noticing her eyelids are falling heavy as they talk.

Anne curls up in the sitting chair on the other side of the master bedroom. It doesn’t feel right to leave her alone right now in this state and she doesn’t exactly feel like participating in the conversations downstairs anymore. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth hearing people speak so casually over something so personal.

It’s a few hours later when Harry makes his way upstairs and he’s surprised to see either of them in his room. He looks like the definition of exhausted. His mom looks up from her book and glances over to see that Y/n is still asleep.

“Is she alright?” Harry asks, looking at the girl curled up in his bed.

“She will be.” Anne sets down the book. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and folds it up neatly.

“Did you guys get anything decided?” Anne questions, making her way over to her son by the door.

“Yeah, Jordan and Jeff both agree that it might be in our best interest to release a statement. If it gets out we’ll obviously need to address it. They want to talk it over again tomorrow morning once Y/n is feeling a bit better.”

“Sounds great, love.” Anne presses a soft kiss to his cheek before letting herself out.

Harry breaks his stare on the love of his life so he can get ready for bed himself. He brushes his teeth and does his night routine as quietly as he can. From what he remembers, it always used to wake Y/n up anyway, but she’s exhausted.

He finally finishes up and hovers over his side of the bed, unsure if he should cross that line. Sure she’s laying in his bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation for them to share the bed.

“Just get in already.” Her voice surprises Harry. Her eyes didn’t even flinch to open. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he slides in on his side.

“What are we going to tell the fans?” Her voice a soft echo in the silence.

Harry lets out a long sigh, moving to lay on his back.

“I don’t know. How much do we want them to know? Neither of us have ever let the fans in like this before.”

“But aren’t they going to figure it out anyway? We know that they’re smart, and our lyrics were hardly veiled.”

“I think I would rather tell them. If we can’t stop it from getting out there, I would want to avoid as many conspiracy theories as possible. How do you feel about it?”

Y/n reaches out her hand to connect it with Harry’s. His head snaps over to look at her and she’s staring down at where her fingers fiddle with his rings.

“I feel comfortable with that. The whole world is going to know now.”

His words fill the silence, Y/n only letting out a sigh in response.

“I should call my parents and let them know. Y/S/N too. They deserve to know before the story breaks.”

Y/n shifts back onto her side facing away from him, letting Harry’s hand drop in the process. He turns to his side, facing the same direction as her. She turns back, looking over her shoulder towards him.

“Thank you.” Her voice a soft whisper, her eyes meeting his after glancing over his bare chest.

“What for?” He clears his throat, his voice catching from speaking so softly.

“For being you Harry. For being understanding and loving in spite of everything.” She turns back to rest her head back on the pillow, “I don’t think there’s anyone else I would want to have to go through this with.”

Harry scoots closer, he hovers his arm over her waist before settling it when there weren’t any protests. Y/n places her hand on top of his, holding it securely against her.

“I will always love you, Y/n. I wish we didn’t have to go through this, but I’m glad to have you too.”

Those are the last words they exchange that night.

Y/n’s POV

The sun is rising, alerting me that I need to get up and get ready. I manage to snake my way out of Harry’s grasp before he can wake up as well. I make my way to the bathroom and take a long shower.

“Jordan brought in your suitcase last night.” Harry informs.

“Oh, great. Thank you!”

He simply nods before going into the bathroom himself to get ready for the morning. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my body and quickly make my way downstairs to grab my bag. By the time I get back to Harry’s room I can hear the water running in the shower. It gives me enough time to get dressed and escape down to the kitchen before he exits.

“Good morning!” Anne smiles from her spot at the stove.

“Morning.” I smile, I take a seat next to a sleepy Gemma.

“This coffee isn’t even helping.” Gemma groans, throwing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

“That’s because Mum made it.” Harry says as he walks in with a wet head, “Have Y/n make the next batch. That’ll surely get you wide awake.”

“Sounds like an excuse to get my world famous coffee if you ask me.” I eye him with a smile.

“You caught me, love.” He grabs plates for everyone and starts setting the table, noticing his mother is getting close to being done with all the food. I tap Gemma softly on the shoulder so I can get up and make a new pot of coffee. Harry always used to tell me my coffee was his favorite, it always packed a punch.

We all settle at the table, Harry with a large mug of the hot coffee.

“Anne, everything looks wonderful.” I smile looking over everything she’s prepared.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We all dig in, too hungry to prolong it anymore.

“What time is everyone getting here?” I ask, mainly waiting for Harry to answer.

“Within the hour.”

“Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?” Gemma sets down her fork to look at the both of us, prompting me to turn and look at Harry.

“We’re going to tell the fans. We want them to hear it from us, take away the power from the person who hacked my phone.” Harry explains.

“Yeah, that reminds me. I need to call my parents.” I dab the corners of the mouth with a napkin before excusing myself.

Harry’s POV

I watch as Y/n leaves the room to make the call privately.

“So, how is she?” Anne asks, focusing on me.

“With all things considered, I think she’s doing alright.” I take a sip of the coffee that’s still warm, “We both agreed that we’re going to tell the fans today. Clarify a few things.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Gemma nods.

“Me too. It’s nice having her here again.” My mum smiles looking at me.

“Mum, don’t go there.” I warn.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” She defends, “I just said it’s nice.”

“She’s right.” Gemma chimes in, “Y/n has always been our favorite. We all know that your story with her is far from over.”

I simply shake my head, knowing better than to argue with these two. It’s a short while later Y/n makes a reappearance, her eye’s red and puffy.

“Alright, everyone’s in the know.” She sighs.

Right on que there’s a knock on the door. I’m sure it’s just starting that our teams are showing up. Ready to start a new day.

“Alright, so Harry said that you guys agreed on putting out a statement. We can get started on that today. We need to decide how we want to do it, we have a few options.” Jordan explains, “We can type up a statement from both of you and release it on social media or if you guys wanted to say something.”

“Like a video?” Y/n asks.

“Exactly. It’s totally up to you guys, it’s a matter of preference.” Jeff cuts in, “Sometimes it's a little more comfortable to do it that way so you can say exactly what you want and people can hear your tone, but at the same time it’s a lot more personal this way.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/n suddenly turns to get my opinion.

“I’m fine with either-”

“C’mon, what’s your head saying.” She has a soft knowing smile on her face. I smile back at her because how could I not.

“I think that if we’re coming clean and trying to be honest about things, it could be good to have it actually coming from our mouths.”

“I agree.” She turns back to look at Jordan and Jeff, “So how exactly do we go about that?”

“So we’ll start by-”

Jeff stops speaking as his phone buzzes, he glances down quickly and his eyes widen for a second. Whatever it is it’s enough to have completely captured his attention.

“What is it?” I ask, I start spinning one of my rings subconsciously. It takes what feels like minutes of pure silence, but in actuality it’s only a few seconds for him to answer.

“The audio file is out.”

Fuck.

~

i’m sorry for all the switching of POVs but that’s the best way i felt I could communicate how i wanted things to go. 

PART 3?!?! how are we feeling? mini series?

[creativeashproductions]

Banjo Riff // Platonic!Reggie Peters

IN WHICH: Luke rejects Reggie’s ideas for country music one too many times leading to the friendship fracturing and putting the bands future in question. Luke, with the help of his girlfriend the reader and his friends scramble to make it up to the bassist.

Warnings: Swearing, hurt!Reggie, Luke being an ass, fighting, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.2k

A/N: This idea has been sitting in my notes for MONTHS now. Song referenced is Lay Here With Me by Maddie & Tae (featuring Dierks Bentley)

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

If there was one thing Sunset Curve, then later Julie and the Phantoms would rely on, it was the battle between Luke and Reggie. Since the conception of a band between the friends, Reggie had always wanted to play a country song. He had learned how to play the banjo in preparation, but Luke rejected both the idea and songs as always.

"You said our sound was vintage '80s and '90s rock music Luke. The band evolved into a pop-rock sound-"

"Because our band changed from Sunset Curve to Julie and the Phantoms. I love you, man, but there's no way we're going country." Luke finally snapped with a heated glare on his face. Luke didn't mean to snap so severely, but it happened.

Luke watched as Reggie's face completely dropped into the kicked puppy expression that tore everyone apart. Instead of making light of the conversation, Reggie mutely nodded in response before turning to grab his bass for the band practice. Luke's stomach dropped at the rather odd behaviour, but Luke blamed his response on his current writers' block.

"Let's start with Flying Solo." Luke proclaimed, hoping Reggie's favourite song would cheer him up. Alex's curious gaze bounced between the two other males in the band just as Julie wandered into the garage.

Before Julie could even question the tension, Reggie had started the beat on the pad stationed on the keyboard. The young female immediately jumped into the first rehearsal song with ease. Every attempt Julie was about to question Reggie's uncharacteristic quiet, the bassist started a different song.

"What's his problem?" Julie questioned as Reggie packed up his stuff and practically sprinted out of the studio. He'd rejected the offer of a pizza movie night.

"Luke here decided to be an asshole again." Alex's tone of voice was sugary sweet in comparison to the glare he sent his guitarist. 

Luke flinched at the furious expression on his bandmate's face. It wasn't a secret Julie and Reggie gravitated to each other in sibling bond. The two had been friends since infancy through their parents; Julie was there when the Peters started fighting. Reggie was there when Julie's mom passed away.

"Don't kill me!" Luke pleaded, scrambling around the piano from the intimidating Puerto Rican who had a solid punch. Julie's anger faltered at the guilt on the boy's face, "I was frustrated, and I shouldn't have taken it out on him!"

"What did Reggie do to deserve it?" Julie asked from the other side of the piano, acting as a barrier between the teenagers.

"He asked about the band doing a country song," Luke admitted with a grimace. His hazel eyes dimmed once more.

"What is your issue with country music? Your girlfriend is literally a country singer Luke!" Alex cried, stepping in between the two feuding bandmates.

Rock n' Roll Luke Patterson had been dating a well-known country singer for close to two years now. Luke had always been adamant that country wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but if you looked in the false bottom of the console in his car, you'd see a different story. Beneath the Eagles, Nirvana, AC/DC, and Gun N' Roses CDs, you'd find countless CDs of his girlfriend. He even had a playlist with a name that concealed the music in it.

Luke was a secret country fan, but he'd take that to his grave before he let anyone other than you know that.

"I don't have an issue! I don't think our band would benefit from branching into that music genre!" Luke argued with his bare arms crossing over his chest. Both Julie and Alex were about to respond when the studio gained another inhabitant.

"Would anyone like to explain why Reggie stormed into my house holding his songbook? He literally dropped it in my garage and tried to light it on fire?" You asked from the double doors with said book in your hand.

All three out of four members of Julie and the Phantoms recognized the book with a country landscape. The sight caused all their stomachs to drop at the obvious symbol of Reggie's hurt feelings.

"Funny story-"

"Luke Patterson...did you hurt his feelings about his love of country?" You asked through clenched teeth. Your response was Luke wincing at the anger blistering in your tone, "Did you ever think that country music is his comfort music? Fix this, Luke. Reggie, of all people, doesn't deserve your frustration."

You turned on your heel with Julie following in the attempt to find the forlorn bassist, most likely being hard on himself. You checked the beach house Reggie's dad had gotten in the divorce to no success. The school auditorium was empty, and so was the stable where Reggie worked part-time for the horses. You had returned back to Julie's house to sit on the porch to brainstorm.

"Isn't this the week he's with his mom?" Julie questioned with a furrowed brow. You could only shrug as Julie pulled up the calendar she shared with Flynn.

Reggie's parents had somewhat amicably divorced two years ago after attempts of reconciliation through therapy. Reggie had sat down with them to tell them how he felt with them fighting, if you recalled. They decided to do a trial separation for a few months and, in the end, had mutually agreed to divorce.

"I think Mr. Peters is taking care of his mother in a different state. She broke her hip, and now she's being moved into a retirement home." You offered the girl the encapsulated sunshine in just her smile.

"I suppose we'll try the Carter-Peters home." Julie breathed, bouncing on her feet to your car parked in front of her house. Julie's fingers tapped the screen in a chat thread she hadn't touched for months.

Your keen eyes easily read Carrie Wilson's name at the top of the thread that had been dormant since the end of their friendship. Apparently, Julie received little help in the frustrated sigh she released and the increasingly violent tapping of her screen.

"As usual, Carrie is no help," Julie announced with disgust in her voice. She squeezed the hand you placed on her knee before your hand returned to the wheel.

"One day, you'll have to tell me what happened between the two of you."

"Old news. Happened just before you moved back from Nashville." Julie once more avoided talking about the issues. 

It was the same response every time you questioned the friendship that had fractured in the few years you'd been in Nashville. Before you left, Carrie and Julie had been attached at the hip, and when you came back, they were at each other's throats. Well, mostly Carrie was because Julie had too big of a heart to stand up to her former friend.

"Well, the beat-up van is still there." Julie caught the van, more of an eyesore, to be honest, sitting in the three-car driveway. The van was shared between Reggie and Flynn as a joint gift from their parents when Reggie's mom moved in with Flynn and her father.

"We both know Reggie-"

"Would walk to work through his problems. The number of times I've found in walking downtown…" Julie trailed with a shake of her half up half down hairstyle she left uncovered by a hat. Another symbol of her finding herself outside the grief that had concealed her.

"Oh, thank god." Flynn moaned from the front porch with her headphones resting on her shoulders instead of her ears, "He's been playing his old bass that makes that odd high pitch squeak noise. I couldn't take it. Get him out!"

You opened and closed your mouth with the inability to find the words, but Flynn knew already, "Doors unlocked. He's in his room."

"Thanks." You informed the fashionable teenager before brushing passed into the house. Not much had changed since Reggie had moved part-time into the house; his parents shared custody.

Flynn was right; the sound of that screech was like a bread trail to the last bedroom in the hallway to the left. The door opened a smidge to reveal Reggie sitting in the dim room with just his bedside lamp on. He was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, Reggie." You breathed from leaning against the door jam, "I'm not sure what Luke said but don't give up on writing. Your songs mean something, Reginald."

"Then why doesn't Luke even read my lyrics? He barely read the title of my last one before tossing it aside!" Reggie whined before taking on a caricature of Luke's voice, "'Home is Where my Horse Is'? Reggie, stop putting your songs in my book!"

You couldn't help the snort at his interpretation of Luke, "That's a...uh...an accurate voice?"

Reggie didn't even crack a smile.

"Okay, maybe don't push Luke's buttons but imagine turning this hurt into songs!"

"Okay. Can I be left alone?"

"Sure." You sighed, turning to leave the room again, "But first. Don't get rid of this Reg. You have good songs." 

You left Reggie's songbook on the dresser by his door on your way through the Carter-Peters household. Flynn sighed in relief when Reggie didn't continue using his old bass and even waved as you and Julie pulled away from the curb.

Reggie's eyes had stayed on the songbook you left on his second-hand dresser as if it would get up and bite him. All he could see was Luke rolling his eyes when Reggie had opened the book to show him a new song he'd written. Reggie was tired of only being known for playing bass.

"I brought you some leftover pizza." Reggie wasn't aware he'd been staring at the songbook for hours by then. He was only aware of Luke when he offered a peace offering in the form of Reggie's favourite food.

"I-"

"I'll go grab a soda from the fridge." Luke retreated just as quick as he had entered the bedroom. Seeing Luke was like rubbing salt in the open wound, and once more, Reggie's emotions flared.

Reggie was already at the fire pit in the backyard when Luke had argued with Flynn overtaking one of her sodas. The soda that had dropped on the back porch as Luke saw Reggie's fingers about to drop the songbook in the crackling fire.

"Reggie!" Luke shouted, ignoring the cold spray of soda on his bare arms. The hazel-eyed guitarist shoved Reggie away from the fire.

"What the hell, dude?" Reggie groaned, rolling onto his stomach to push himself to his sit on his knees. His blue eyes seeing Luke stomping the ignited corner of the songbook that had caused them issues.

"What the hell were you doing, Reggie?" Luke demanded with the songbook held tight in his grip. The glare on the messy-haired teenager directly pinned on his best friend, "Why would you try to destroy the book?"

"What's the point of having something our band won't branch into?" Reggie shrugged, moving to sit with his knees pulled to chest, "I've tried to keep the peace but Luke. I'm starting to understand why Bobby left the band."

Luke's heart clenched at the honesty Reggie was revealing, "What do you mean?"

"Screw the blood pact." Reggie grumbled, recalling the oath Alex, Bobby, and he had done to keep the truth from Luke, "Bobby didn't leave because he got an early acceptance into Juilliard."

Luke's eyebrows furrowed together, "What?"

"Luke...you tend to get possessive over the music we make. You brushed off Bobby's opinions, and we all didn't want to hurt your feelings. You've had a shitty time with your parents, but like Bobby, I feel like you don't appreciate our talents."

"What? Dude, you're killer on the bass! Alex's insane on the drums!"

"We know that. Maybe Bobby should have told you the truth on why he was leaving. I don't think you noticed but 

"Luke. The songs we perform are all written by you. It was fine, but then when Julie joined, all of a sudden, you were okay with someone else writing with you. But you've never even looked at the songs I've written."

Luke silently listened as Reggie rambled on about how he, along with Bobby, felt underappreciated by the guitarist. 

"And now you've been bit by the writers' block bug, but I think the band should take a break. Get our heads back on straight. Before we destroy the band, destroy our friendships." Reggie told his best friend with tears rolling down his face, "Just a week or two."

Luke's mouth hung open as Reggie circled around him to enter the household, but the telltale sound of the lock engaging broke the teenager. But Luke wasn't one to give up, so he created a group chat with Alex, Julie, Flynn and you. A single text that had all of them meeting at the studio.

"He quit the band?" Alex demanded, taking the songbook from Luke's hand, "What the hell?"

"One second he's in his room, and the next he's about to burn that! I may not like-"

"Luke, have you even read a single song he wrote?" You asked your boyfriend with your arms resting down on your knees. The boy in question half-heartedly shrugged with his eyes on his battered shoes.

"How are we gonna fix this?" Julie asked with a frown marring her pretty face usually lit up with sunshine. Her question was left to waft in the forlorn atmosphere in her family's studio.

"Give me that." You demanded towards the band's drummer with determination lit up in your eyes. Alex hesitantly handed over the songbook to your grabby hands.

The other individuals in the room watched as you settled into a chair with a stray acoustic guitar you'd left. Your eyes focused on the notes Reggie had placed around one of the unfinished songs. The soft melody was played a few times before you noticed Alex creating a beat with his drums.

"If I just tweak the song to make this piece the verse instead of a chorus." You mumbled under your breath with a pen scratching the paper. In a different colour, you jotted down the lyrics of a song you'd been working on previously. It was a song you'd struggled with the ending.

Alex huddled around you to add his own notes for the drums, "Definitely a song with a soft backing beat."

"Perfect. I just joined what he has with a song I'd given up a while back. The two songs are the last two pieces of a puzzle." You informed the drummer. Both of you unaware as Julie, Luke, and Flynn watched your brainstorming.

Luke felt out of sorts not being included in writing a song, but he thought it was suitable to not work on it. It gave Luke insight into how Reggie felt not being included in songwriting.

"I have an idea." Luke interjected with a grin, "Reggie's always wanted to see a real ranch. Do you think your uncle would be okay with us staying at the ranch?"

Your eyes flitted up to the mischievous hazel of your boyfriend's scheming gaze, "My uncle adores having people on the ranch. He'd enjoy teaching Reggie the ways of ranch life out of a city."

"How are you gonna get Reggie out to Nashville without it being band business?" Flynn questioned from her position on the couch, "He did just ask for a break from the band."

"Uh...I could pretend to enter a music competition." You offered hesitantly as you'd never actually performed on a stage for the group. You'd kept your personal life separate from your successful career as a country musician.

So you conspired with your friends to make amends with the bassist.

One Month Later, Nashville

The beat-up van pulled into a parking spot in front of a building. The band had seen the building in pictures on your Instagram. Alex, Luke and Julie all shared a look Reggie couldn't catch with his mouth wide open at the city.

"So, where's this competition?" Reggie inquired with his steps in line with Julie. The distance between Reggie and Luke is still noticeable.

True to Reggie's word, the band had come back together after two weeks of a break, but the bassist and guitarist's friendship was still fractured. A particular cloud of awkwardness followed each attempt; Luke tried to branch it together.

"Uh, not here. Y/N invited me to tour the recording studio she uses through her label." Luke offered to the confused bassist. As usual, Reggie barely cast a glance at the guitarist.

"C'mon!" Alex called out from the open doorway with the new addition of you by his side.

Luke was quick to nearly tackle you in a hug and a lingering kiss on your lips. The band all made sounds of feigned disgust. Even Reggie joined in the usual banter within the group.

"Hey, Reggie, do you want to see how us country artists do it?" You quipped with your arm interlocking with his. The cold leather of his jacket raising goosebumps on your arm as you dragged him to the recording booth.

As soon as he was comfortable on one of the spinney chairs by the producer's side, he watched like a hawk. The band had never been in a real professional recording studio owned by a label. It was interesting to everyone, but mostly they all watched Reggie's reactions.

"I was working on this song." You spoke from inside the booth. With a nod, your producer began playing a portion of the song.

"Is...is that-" Reggie was cut off by as Luke interrupted him.

"Your song? Yeah." 

Reggie stared at his best friend, "What?"

"You were right, Reggie. I didn't appreciate what you could bring to the band, and I'm so fucking sorry about that. You have excellent songs even if I'm not a fan of country music." Luke genuinely informed his best friend with his hands clasping his, "I want you. Both you and Alex to have a bigger role because we started this band together. We all share responsibility."

"So for now. Alex and I finished one of the songs you had written. I was wondering if you'd like to make it a duet? Release it as a single with a full writing credit."

Reggie absolutely beamed in response to your question. He was in the recording booth beside you in mere seconds.

For the week the band stayed on your uncle's ranch, Reggie was in the studio with you going over the song. It is a song you released as the leading single for your upcoming studio album with Reggie and cemented his career. It wasn't the last time you did a song with Reggie. In fact, he set himself up as a sought after country songwriter.

"Holy shit!" Luke shouted as soon as Reggie told him the success of one of the songs had brought interest to Julie and the Phantoms, "I could kiss you! I'll never doubt your skills!"

Reggie and Luke's fractured friendship healed with the promise of a yearly visit to the ranch in Nashville. Plus, Reggie impressed Luke and Alex with the banjo riff in a country song the band released on their third studio album featured by you. Reggie would always be thankful he had the chance to record ‘Lay Here With Me’ with you.

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[dulce-pjm]

cheek to cheek

request for taehyung from @kidcoredreamz (thanks bae!!) 

listen to “cheek to cheek” by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong and “i get along without you very well” by chet baker for maximum effect

make your own request here using these prompts!

cheek to cheek

word count: 3.1k

genre: fluff, arrangedmarriage!au

summary: it’s night like these that you wish things were different

Taehyung is guaranteed, always has been. 

From the minute your tiny fingers could interlock with his, you were dragging each other around the mansions and garden parties, sneaking off to corners with desserts and chocolate milk and getting sugar rushes together. Time with Taehyung comes easy and passes quickly, the hours with him condensing into minutes and the few minutes without him stretching into lonesome years. 

You’ve seen him through thick and thin. Through acne flare ups and awkward conversations and never-ending games of tag. You’ve seen him pick his nose, cry over spilled milk (or, in his case, a broken remote-control race car), get caught sneaking out. You’ve comforted him while he felt broken, laughed until your sides were aching. You know his ins and outs, his rough edges and corners, his soft spots he tries to hide. 

Marrying him should be a blessing. 

To spend the rest of your life with the person who’s stuck by your side throughout everything is a future some can only dream about. To have someone understand you so perfectly, to understand them like no one else will. It should be a blessing. 

It should be. 

The digital clock reads 11:57 when he knocks on the window. 

You’ve always had a weird thing about having a room on the ground floor, when possible. It’s closest to the front door, in case of an emergency. And there’s no risk of tripping downstairs when you’re sleepily moving around in the night. And, most importantly, it’s easy to sneak out when you need to. 

While you’re a little startled, you’re nothing close to afraid. You know exactly what face to expect as you throw open the sheer curtains, silken pajama sleeves hanging over your fingers and eyes swollen from sleep. 

The moonlight makes his silvery hair seem otherworldly, a soft glow coming off of his locks. A few months ago, you’d been more than opposed to his sudden need to dye his hair, but you really shouldn’t have been surprised. The odd color just makes him more ethereal. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, opening the bay window and letting the frigid air slam you in the face. Your eyes comb over the rest of his figure, your brows furrowing at his dark hoodie and sweats, a black hoodie crumpled in one of his hands. Anyone else would have assumed he was an intruder. 

“Visiting my fiancée?” he tries, flashing a lopsided grin. “Thought we could sneak out again. For old times’ sake.” 

“We’re not kids anymore, Tae,” you huff. 

“That doesn’t mean we have to be boring.” 

You cross your arms as a chill runs down your spine from the cool breeze. “It’s midnight. I’m in my pajamas.”

“Well, then you better change.” You stare at him indignantly for a moment, wondering just how much of a doormat he thinks you are. 

“Please?” he adds, batting his lashes teasingly. “I have a surprise. You’ll like it, promise.”

“But will I like it more than I’d like crawling back into bed? Can’t it wait until morning?”

“No. Let’s be a little spontaneous, like we used to be.”

You won’t lie. The soft duvet, still warm, is calling to you strongly. You know that as soon as your head hit the pillow again, you’d be out. Sleeping like a baby. 

But it’s Taehyung’s half-assed pout and an unfortunately strong curiosity that compels you to slip on the nearest t-shirt and sweats for the designated “not-dirty-enough-for-the-basket-yet” chair and climb out the window with a sigh. 

-- 

“It’s Dad’s latest passion project. It was my suggestion, but I think he’s enjoying it more than me.”

You’re enjoying yourself more than you’d like to admit, too. You aren’t sure what urged Taehyung or his wealthy, CEO father to pour their time and effort into a run down museum, but you sure are glad they did. It’s like walking through a ghost town, dust coating the walls and old exhibits. Only some of the lights work and there’s renovation supplies littering the floors. You and Taehyung stick to each other’s sides in the poorly lit areas to avoid tripping and meeting a sorry end via paint roller. 

This certainly isn’t the first time you’ve been out late with Taehyung. When you were in high school and determined to rebel against your parents’ constricting ways, the two of you often found yourselves roaming the city and laughing much too loudly during a time when you should have been catching up on sleep or homework. 

Being with Taehyung was never too much of a risk. His parents always fell victim to your innocent smiles and mumbled apologies, while yours believed Taehyung could do no wrong. After they yelled and scolded and nearly tore their hair out, soon they were only shaking their heads and smiling at each other knowingly. It was hard to be mad for long when things were really working even better than planned. 

“What do you think it means?” Taehyung asks as the two of you stare at the large mural. It’s filled with wide strokes of color, abstract shapes littering the foreground with seemingly no pattern or reason. You really can’t even see the whole thing, when Taehyung turned on the lights for this room, only two or three managed to flicker on. 

You tap your chin, deep in thought. “Well, the red is clearly...” You tilt your head. “It’s clearly having a battle with the yellow. They represent good and evil. And the purple in the back is hope.” Taehyung tilts his head in the same direction as yours, brows knit in concentration. 

“You really got all that from... that?” You snort. 

“Nah, I just bullshitted it. I have no idea what it means.” Taehyung giggles, shoving you in the side. You stumble, yelping dramatically and nearly crashing into a probably very expensive bust of some historical figure you wouldn’t recognize. 

“I was being serious, Y/N.” You laugh at his pouty expression, resisting the urge to poke him in the side in revenge. You don’t want to start a fight you know you can’t win. 

After trying to make sense of the abstract mural for a few moments, you move out of the art exhibits on to the historical section, looking at the old skeletons and fossils and relics from years and years ago. 

It’s fun trying to guess the names of the different dinosaur skeletons, cackling obnoxiously at all the ridiculous things you can combine with “—asaurus.” You take turns reading the puns scattered on the colorful signs throughout the exhibit, groaning at the bad ones and acknowledging the okay ones with a tiny chuckle. You laugh the hardest when Taehyung spots the fake alligators and climbs onto the display, insisting you take his picture so he can look cool. 

“Tae, you can clearly tell you’re inside!” He scoffs. 

“Just take the picture!” he insists. “Don’t I look like Steve Irwin?”

The photos all come out insanely blurry, your arms shaking too much as you try to hold in your giggles. 

When you were first told of the arrangement at age sixteen, you cried. You sobbed and you wailed and you screamed and you locked yourself in your room in protest for an entire day. Your parents couldn’t understand it. You loved Taehyung. More than your own family. More than anything else. They loved him too. He was the son of a close friend and a union would benefit business, certainly. 

When you eventually came out of your bedroom, you refused to talk about it. You only mumbled that you were sorry and your parents knew better than to ask questions and so, that was the end of it. 

“Taehyung!” you shout, grabbing his wrist and dragging him across the antiques exhibit. You’d both already tried (and failed) at using the dusty typewriter and moved on to playfully arguing about who should pose with the guillotine when your eyes locked onto an item across the room. 

“What is it?” he laughed, stumbling after you, all smiles. 

“It’s a phonograph,” you explain. It appears in near-perfect condition despite the circumstances, the brass horn shiny and golden like it’d been made yesterday. “You can play records on it.” 

He nods in understanding. “We should try it.” The idea is tempting, but your hopes for it working are fairly low. “There’s already a record on it, just try to get it to play.”

You lean forward, fingers mentally crossed as you fiddling with the needle and try winding the crank. The gears squeak terribly inside the main compartment, making you cringe. But you keep winding it, stepping back and squeezing your eyes tight in anticipation. 

When you’re met with silence instead of music, you sigh in defeat. “Well, I guess that’s alright, it’s pretty old anyway, let’s—”

Suddenly, the machine fizzles to life, record slowly turning on the turntable and a jazzy tune carries through the air. Taehyung cheers, clapping on the shoulder. 

“You did it!” Your smile quickly stretches into your cheeks, exhaustion long forgotten as you relax in the nice sound, soft piano and pleasant singing filling your ears. 

You begin subconsciously swaying to song, fingers drumming to the beat absentmindedly on your thighs. Taehyung seems to know the song, quietly singing a few lyrics every one and a while. 

“Let’s dance,” he says suddenly. Your stomach tightens. 

“Let’s not,” you reply quickly, arms hugging your sides. You stare ahead, trying to focus on the song rather than the person beside you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him lean slightly closer, lolling his head to the side. 

“Why not?” 

You sigh. You don’t really have an answer. 

Your hand finds his, fingers interlocking as you let Taehyung guide you out into a relatively clearly spot, tennis-shoe clad feet shuffling lightly to the music. You’ve danced with him in other settings, with many more eyes watching. You’re normally dressed perfectly, not a hair out of place and a thick layer of makeup coating your eyes and cheeks. 

“Remember that time your mom made us take dance lessons when we were twelve?” Taehyung asks, a glint in his eye. 

You scoff. “I remember the part where you gave me laxatives right before the first lesson, yeah.” Taehyung can barely keep his grip on you, moving his other hand to your waist in an attempt to steady himself as his shoulders shake with laughter. 

“I really thought it was regular tea, I promise.”

“Sure you did.”

“I did! I thought we were being all fancy like our parents and drinking fancy tea like fancy rich people.”

“Then why didn’t you drink the laxative tea, huh?”

“I don’t like tea. I just put milk in my teacup and hoped you wouldn’t notice.” You snort, hands settled all to comfortably on his shoulders as the smooth voice croons and echoes off of the walls. 

It’s intimate. There’s nowhere else to look but his eyes as he places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer with a soft smile. The room feels warmer, his breath barely skimming across your face at the close proximity. 

It forces you to think about the things you’d much rather keep inside. 

This should be nice. It should be normal and romantic and sweet, to be slow-dancing with your fiancée. Your smile should be light and endeared and love-struck, not forced and fake. 

There’s a heavy pang in your heart as you remember. Remember how much love him. How much you care. How much you want to hold him close, press your lips on his without a single bit of hesitance. 

But you can’t do those things, knowing the things you do. To Taehyung, this marriage is a convenience. It’s a way to please his parents and strengthen his business connections and do it all with his best friend. He’s always been perfectly content with the arrangement, perfectly content to marry for everything but love. 

And how are you supposed to feel, wanting to marry him for the very thing he doesn’t feel for you?

He’s all you’ve ever wanted. You would have left this life a long time ago, but it would mean sacrificing him. You’re too selfish to do that. You want him all to yourself, every part that you can get. 

You’ve seen every side of him, the weird and the sad and sweet. You want it all. But you’ll never have it. 

You wish it were real. That this were a romantic night away, that you’d wake up in the morning all tangled in his arms. It’s this intimacy that you crave but can never enjoy, not when you know it’s all fake.

And he knows you too. Knows something is up when that little knot between your brows forms and your eyes grow just a little glassy.

“What’s wrong?” You quickly straighten your spine, blinking away any tears pricking at your eyes. 

“Nothing, I’m fine.” But Taehyung knows. He leans forward slightly, dark eyes piercing through your very soul. You gulp as you feel his body heat on your own skin, releasing your hands from his shoulders in your panic. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you breathe. Your gaze falls as you step back, the music tapering off as the phonograph finally gives out and the moment is fully broken.

But instead of letting you slip away, his grip tightens, look growing desperate.

“Wait! Just a second.” You can see him itch to run his hand through his hair, but his arms don’t leave you. “You’ve been acting so weird lately. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” You furiously shake your head. 

“No, that’s not it. I just—” You stop yourself before too many words spill out and you say something you can’t take back.

When you don’t elaborate, Taehyung’s face falls further. “Seriously, what is it? Am I really making you that upset?”

“No, I—”

“Is it because I dragged you out so late? I’m sorry, it’d just been so long since I saw you and I missed you—”

“Just shut up!” you cry, shoving him off of you for good. A few tears wet your cheeks and your face heats with embarrassment. “It’s because you pull this kind of stupid, romantic shit that makes me love you even more than I already do but I know you don’t see us that way.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, but you suppose since it’s all on the table, you’ll keep going. “I know this is all just fun and games and easy to you but it fucking hurts, Taehyung. You can’t lead people on like this. You can’t do this shit and expect me not to feel something for you.”

The phonograph crackles in the corner of the room, unable to play pretty tunes or sweet songs anymore. It sounds restless and broken and unpleasant to hear. 

“Maybe I wanted you to feel something for me.” You whip your head up, cheeks still hot from mortification and anger. 

“What?”

“You heard me. I wanted you to love me. Because I love you.” 

When you kiss him, it’s like a breath of fresh air. It’s hungry and rushed as your fingers gently tug on his hair and his palm is splayed on the small of your back, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. 

At some point, you end up pressed against the wall, euphoric as he trails pecks down your jaw and neck incessantly, like he’s trying to make up for every time he wished he’d kissed you. You whine when he parts his lips, tugging on his hair as he fastens your body against him. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he always keeps in his pocket. The habit had ruined a pair of his dress pants before when it melted all in the pocket, but he’s always been too stubborn about chapped lips to learn his lesson and carry it elsewhere. You can smell his shampoo and the faint scent of his cologne. Everything that fills your senses is him and only him. 

You feel a few tears sting at the corner of your eyes but you ignore them, gasping for breath between long kisses, a few giggles escaping you when you see you’re not the only one lightheaded. 

After what feels both like hours and seconds, Taehyung pulls away, his lips swollen and pink, but stretched into that adorable grin that hasn’t changed since you were kids. 

“Sorry I didn’t say something earlier,” he murmurs. “I never could find the right words to say it and I knew it’d make everything awkward if you didn’t feel the same way.” You laugh mirthlessly, cupping his face gently with your hands. 

“Same here.” You sigh. “Guess we’re both idiots.”

“Guess so.” 

It's a little frightening to stare at him like this. You’ve always held your guard tightly whenever you felt even close to your feelings being compromised, but that weight you’d carried for so long as suddenly detached itself from your shoulders, leaving you free floating. Yes, it’s like floating untethered through the air or being caught in the ocean with your life jacket. It’s scary and daunting and unknown. But it’s nice to know that you’ll have Taehyung’s hand tightly holding yours the whole way. 

“Since I confessed first, I think you should pose for a picture with the guillotine.” Taehyung’s intent stare breaks, his face crinkling in disgust. 

“But I kissed you first.”

“Only because I said I loved you.”

“If you really loved me, you’d pose with the guillotine and I could pose like I’m the executioner.” Now it’s your turn to be disgusted. 

“That’s so fucking morbid, Kim Taehyung.” You smack his arm, but he keeps you against the wall, thigh between your legs as he leans in again. 

“Only for you,” he murmurs, planting his lips on yours again. 

The scoff about to leave your mouth is caught in your throat as you’re enveloped in his embrace, kissing each other dizzy until you’re certain the sun must be rising soon. 

You wouldn’t mind too much if it did, though. 

As Taehyung keeps trying to convince you to take stupid photos and explain abstract art to him, you aren’t sure how much a blessing he is. All you really know is that he’s your guarantee, your anchor in this unforgiving world. You aren’t sure where he’ll take you next, what random time he’ll decide is the best for your future adventures. You can’t know what the rest of your life holds, only that he’ll be next to you as long as he can. 

And that’s enough for now.