#typing lyrics up is hard as is but then I have to type with special characters *and* translate it?

[telleroftime]

I was looking through my mum's playlist and found a song called "Czarny chleb i czarna kawa" by Strachy Na Lachy, and seeing as SatoSugu weighs heavy on my shoulders, guess who my mind went to immediately...

"Świat ma tylko cztery strony ; a w tym świecie nie ma mnie" -> The world only has four pages ; in this world I am not

"Gdy swe oczy otworzyłem ; wielki żal ogarnął mnie ; po policzkach łzy spłynęły ; zrozumiałem wtedy, że..." -> When I opened my eyes ; a great grief overwhelmed me ; tears fell against my cheeks ; I understood it then, that..."

"Czarny chleb i czarna kawa ; opętani samotnością ; myślą swą szukają szczęścia ; (które zwie się wolnością!)" -> Black bread and black coffee ; possessed with loneliness ; with their thoughts they seek happiness ; (that calls itself freedom)

I can't listen to songs in different languages without these two ruining it for me :((

[hunieday]

Momo - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Yuki: Thanks for your hard work

Yuki: Anyone here?

Okazaki Rinto: You’re early, Yuki-kun!? I’m here!

Yuki: Okarin, you’re online. Yuki here

Okazaki Rinto: Yeah, I know. There’s still time before the interview though...

Yuki: That’s true, but today’s an important interview day and I finished composing, so I thought I’d camp here early.

Okazaki Rinto: How wonderful. Momo-kun will be thrilled when he reads this!

Yuki: Yeah, who’s the star of the show today after all? Are you at the recording booth with him?

Okazaki Rinto: Actually, the recording ran longer than scheduled so Momo-kun should be back to the dressing room right around the interview time!

Yuki: Is that so. So it’s just the two of us for now.

Yuki: So what should we talk about until he’s back. Shall we have a competition to list what we find the cutest about Momo?

Okazaki Rinto: There’s no way I’m winning that. Let’s talk about what we like about you instead!

Yuki: Are you doing a bit

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun himself actually suggested it. He said "There’s a chance I’m gonna be late, you two can just talk about how super handsome Yuki is!"

Yuki: We thought the same thing.

Okazaki Rinto: I’ll start with my opinion! You used to say you weren’t good with people, but now you’re so approachable it’s amazing!

Yuki: Thanks. Do I have to say something too?

Yuki: I can write music

Okazaki Rinto: Next! I also think you’re an incredible actor. I feel so proud seeing you soar even beyond the idol world!

Yuki: Thank you. More new rivals keep popping up, so I can’t slack off anymore.

Yuki: Now’s my turn

Yuki: Now I’m out

Okazaki Rinto: That’s it!?

Yuki: That’s it

Momo: You barely scratched the surface!?!?!?

Yuki: Here comes Momo

Momo: Here comes Momo-chan!! Sorry for making you two wait 🥺🥺 I couldn’t stop smiling reading all the rabbichat notifications 🥰

Momo: But really, just three or four points don’t even compare in the sea of Yuki’s charm!?!?!?!? Like, his beauty mark is beyond handsome, the way he looks at me with such intensity makes me fall in love all over again. He’s so beautiful from the tip of his fingers to every strand of his hair?!?!?!?

Momo: And the way he calls me his “precious partner” is just too handsome…!!!

Yuki: You type really fast, Momo.

Momo: Lightning fast!!!!!

Yuki: I appreciate you saying all that, but today is all about you, Momo.

Momo: That’s trueee~

Momo: You’re gonna share,,,, what feelings you poured into producing my project right,,,,,,,,

Momo: aaaaaaaaaghhh can my heart even handle this ‼ Yuki, Okarin, please take it easy on me ‼

Yuki: I’ll be gentle.

Okazaki Rinto: Let’s get started! As requested, we’re aiming for a casual, relaxed vibe for this interview, as if you’re not even working. So we decided to do it over rabbichat!

Okazaki Rinto: First off, Momo-kun! Please tell us how you felt when you found out Yuki-kun’s gonna produce your song!

Momo: Hmm...he usually composes for Re:vale as a whole, but he did it just for me this time. To think that he created not just the song but also the lyrics, costumes, and the whole concept...I feel so lucky it’s almost too much to believe.

Momo: The person I’ve admired for so long brings me so much happiness now. I want to take that a hundred, a thousand times and deliver it back to all my fans.

Momo: Wait a sec is this real? I’m not dreaming, right?

Okazaki Rinto: Don’t pinch your cheeks so hard, Momo-kun!

Yuki: It’s real, Momo.

Momo: It is...

Momo: This is so special to me that it always felt like a dream! I mean, just singing with Yuki already makes me so happy, but I didn’t know there was even a possibility to ascend to another level of happiness.

Yuki: I’m just as grateful for the opportunity to focus on a project entirely for you, Momo.

Momo: Yukiiiiii~

Momo: Wait a sec, how come my darling is the most handsome guy in the world !?!? 😭😭😭

Yuki: I know. So what did you think when you heard the song?

Momo: It was so cool... I thought it’d be more cutesy

Momo: But it was completely different! And it has this super stylish dance number, I could picture us dancing together the moment I listened to the airy melody.

Momo: Even though we sing in a high pitch, the deep bass was so powerful, I love it soooooooo much…

Yuki: I’m happy

Yuki: I wanted to capture all your different sides

Okazaki Rinto: Interesting…! I’d love to hear more about your creative process!

Yuki: You could say it’s about Momo’s “switches”, in a way. A switch for when he’s singing, when he’s performing.

Yuki: A switch for when he’s pressing close to my side, thinking about lyrics to write. Working earnestly and wholeheartedly.

Yuki: They’re all different switches within Momo. It all shifts. The gap between them all is intriguing.

Momo: My “switches” huh... So that’s how you see me. 

Momo: You’re right though, I do change depending on the person or situation without even realizing. The gap between the melody and the high pitch reflect that.

Momo: And the electronic sounds are supposed to represent little switches, right? That’s just like you, it’s fascinating!!!!

Yuki: Thank you. It was challenging since I wasn’t allowed to compose the entire thing myself, but it was worth it.

Momo: And the lyrics moved me deeply. I could feel your message of wanting to face the future together, and to keep singing for an eternity and beyond.

Yuki: That’s right. This song is for you, who pulled me forward and shone your light upon me that day.

Momo: That’s because

Momo: Yuki’s music gave me the push I needed back then

Momo: So that’s why I

Yuki: Momo. You always say you’re thankful to me but

Yuki: "Beneath the countless stars, I can reach anywhere as long as I’m with you." Being with you lets me sing anywhere, Momo.

Yuki: Just like that day we sang together on the sandy beach of a deserted island, the place where you and I sing, the place where Re:vale is, will always be the best stage ever. (1)

Okazaki Rinto: Momo-kun’s crying.

Yuki: Don’t shed tears when I can’t be with you to wipe them.

Momo: Wh

Momo: Whoa stop stop stop stop hold up wasn’t that way too smooth?!?! That line was so hot my tears stopped on their own!?

Yuki: Hello, it’s me, the handsome Yuki.

Momo: Kyaaaa!! Please look my wayyy!! 🤩✨

Yuki: Yep. I’m looking straight at my phone.

Momo: lolololol thanks! I totally feel your eyes on me 🤩✨

Okazaki Rinto: Alright, I’m sorry but let’s get back on track. I’d love to hear about the concept behind your outfits and promo shoots!

Momo: I’m so excited to hear about it! I was hyped the moment I walked into the room for the photoshoot! It looked exactly like a gaming room 🎮

Yuki: The song doesn’t fit an outdoor setting. I felt like even indoors would still be too bright, so I went for a moody, neon-lit setup the moment I found out something like that existed.

Yuki: It was perfect for Momo since he loves gaming, but the gentle neon light reflecting in the dark felt especially very Momo-like to me

Momo: I’m so happy!!!! I really do love those kinds of lights toooo~~ I see how it is, hehe~~~~

Okazaki Rinto: Yuki-kun, your idea of what “feels Momo-like” is always very diverse.

Yuki: Is it? I think it’s normal

Momo: And don’t forget the outfits, I loved them so much >u< Yuki doesn’t usually wear clothes in that style so I snapped a ton of photos of him!

Yuki: I thought we might as well embrace the Momo vibe for this shoot too. We even took tons of pictures together.

Momo: Yup! We were dressed like Player 1 and Player 2! 🪄

Yuki: It's been fun trying a style I don’t normally wear

Momo: You looked amazing!! 😍 💚 Why don’t you start wearing clothes like that more often?!

Yuki: Then how about we try some different combinations next time? (2) 

Momo: Huh?! W-w-ww-w-ww-we don’t have to go that far!!!!!!!!!???

Yuki: Why not? Matching outfits always have a wide variety

Momo: Huh!!!!!!!!!! Okarin !!!!!!!! What do I do !!!!!!!! Work is one thing, but a private setting is totally different?!?!?!?!?!

Okazaki Rinto: I find it funny that you’re typing what you’re muttering in real life, LOL.

Yuki: How nice. I wanna be there too

Momo: You have work after this right? so Momo-chan will wait for you to finish!!

Yuki: Yeah. Thank you

Okazaki Rinto: The request was to make this a more relaxed conversation, but you might be a bit too relaxed right now, or maybe you’re just acting like you always are….

Yuki: Is that a problem? It’s fine, right, Momo?

Momo: Right, Yuki! 🫶

Okazaki Rinto: That’s right! It’s totally fine! And finally, please share a message for the fans!

Yuki: This new direction may surprise some fans, but from where I stand, Momo is strong, gentle, and full of warmth. Just like a sunrise that blends the dark and light, he’s a mix of many wonderful qualities.

Yuki: That’s why the song plays tricks with a variety of rhythms, melodies and singing tones. They reflect Momo’s ever-changing expressions. I hope you enjoy “Get in the Groove.”

Momo: I always spend every day thinking about how happy I am ever since Yuki and I became Re:vale. Sometimes so much so that I wish time could stop.

Momo: But you know, listening to “Get in the Groove” made me feel even happier! I know this project was born all thanks to our fans’ unwavering support. Thank you so much!!! I feel like the happiest person alive right now!

Momo: And that’s why I want everyone who supports us to feel as happy as I do, always and forever! I hope that you never get your feelings hurt! And if sadness ever comes your way, I hope our songs will be able to heal you!

Momo: Re:vale will always be a warm light, shining on everyone like the sun that rises each morning. Now and forever, with Yuki by my side!

Momo: That’s all I got!

Okazaki Rinto: Thank you both! This was Re:vale in full force!

Momo: Yup! I feel Yuki’s love overflowing more than usual 🥹❤

Yuki: Really? I’m not really good with words

Momo: Well no, you’ve gotten dangerously much better at that recently!!??!!!

Okazaki Rinto: It’s hard to believe you once had to practice saying stuff like this.

Yuki: Yeah, that sure did happen.

Yuki: Momo, promise me you’ll keep smiling by my side now and forever

Momo: Yeah. I promise!!

For those who are confused, the sandy beach of a deserted island refers to a specific plot point in part 5 of the main story.

I. am frankly not entirely sure how to interpret this. Because judging by Momo’s reaction I believe Yuki was Most Definitely Not insinuating an actual change of color combinations but. A Different Kind of “combinations”. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

hobie brown (spider-punk!!) is giving me severe brain rot, i love him sm 😭

if you ever decide to write for him, could you do some relationship hcs??

ty ^^

Not sure wether this is what you wanted but I hope it was worth it.

Music from the heart:

One of the most obvious ones is that Hobie would have a plethora of songs about you, it’s fucking adorable and so sweet, and so he would play them for you within the comfort of your room because where else would you rather be serenaded?

If anything it makes the moment more special and memorable for the both of you as something you can look back on with fondness.

Though you probably try teasing him one day by asking how many more songs of you he had in the works and Hobie would either say ‘too many to count.’ Or ‘a whole albums worth.’ He’s not going to hide the fact that he’s got notebook after notebook filled with song lyrics dedicated to you.

Pda though not quite:

Hobie isn’t the type to heavily involve himself in PDA but isn’t against the likes of:

holding hands.

his hand being placed on the small of your back when guiding you somewhere else.

the classic arm over the shoulder.

Thigh holding

His/ your head resting on each others shoulders and or laps.

Guitar pick:

This one came to my head out of the blue but I’m gonna add it here even though I’m not too certain but here it is anyway:

if Hobie uses guitar picks to play his guitar -which he probs doesn’t but idk- I’d like to think he’d make you a guitar pick necklace from one of his old picks.

Sure he hates gifts and such but this is the sole expectation alongside any and all handcrafted jewellery you may give him because he wears that shit with pride.

Terms of endearment:

Love

Darling

Sweetheart

Impromptu sleepovers:

Hobie crashes at your place more often then not to the point he might as well be living with you in regards of how often he leaves something of his at yours, so much so you’ve begun to wonder if he was doing it intentionally or accidentally.

Either way you made sure that his stay was comfortable by having a makeshift bed set up for him so he didn’t have to constantly sleep on the uncomfortable couch and wake up with a crooked neck.

Hobie appreciates all that you do for him but would often tell you it’s not necessary but you weren’t about to get into a discussion about whether or not he was deserving of help because the answer was obvious and that answer would always and forever will be; yes.

Also he’s a bit of a cuddle bug but only with you but that’s your little secrete.

Date nights:

Most, if not all of your dates are either just the pair of you being your natural selves in the comfort of your own home where’d you would talk about anything and everything that came to your mind, free of judgment.

or

showing Hobie your undying love and support by showing up to his gigs and scream the loudest because he is talented as shit and deserves a lot more in your eyes.

Either way as long as you were within each others company, anywhere you both went could be considered a date.

Spidey business:

Now this is all dependant on wether or not you know he’s Spider-Man:

If you did then you’d probably would help him patch up his wounds after every fight he had

Or

If you weren’t due to Hobie wanting nothing more then to keep you and that life as far from each other as possible, you’d most definitely would be concerned when you see him with any sustained injuries he tried patching up himself.

No matter how hard you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, Hobie would just tell you it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

Meeting his friends/ Bragging rights:

Before introducing you to the likes of Pavitr, Miles and Gwen(if you haven’t already met her), it’s almost an 100% guarantee that he brags about you anyway he knows how which only intrigues them more and more to the point they’re just pleading with Hobie to introduce his cool, kickass partner to them.

So when he does, the three are practically hounding you about your relationship with Hobie and when you looked back at him for help in wrangling in his over excited friends, the little shit merely smirks and shrugs his shoulders as though he had no idea they’d react like this, all the while leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest; happy to see all his favourite people he cares about a lot interacting with one another to the point that by the end of the day you’re very good friends with each of them.

[anika-ann]

Precious Night, Holy Night - S.R.

Type: one-shot, establishished relationship, Christmas-themed

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 3,8k

Summary: The space is drowned in shadows, the night having fallen longs hours ago, the only source of glow being the Christmas lights and you, somewhere in the depths of Steve’s sanctuary. At least, that is what he hopes for.

His watch buzzes lightly, reporting that yet another hour he spent away has blended into the next one; and without checking, he knows it’s even worse. Not another hour – another day. Christmas Day.

He left you alone for one of the most special nights of the year.

Warnings: : light angst with hurt and comfort, light issues of self-worth (hello Stevie my dear), mentions of blood and injuries and injury-related pain (not reader), a bit of swearing, Steve being an angsty sap in love (totally a warning)

A/N: Inspired by a lovely song by Janek Ledecký – loosely translated lyrics through the text can be skipped of course. (If you’d like a listen, it’s here; what I adore most about it is the simplicity. No serenades, no extraordinary notes to hit, nothing, he doesn’t even pronounce properly at times – just an ordinary man professing his love, much like I feel Steve would). Divider by @saradika-graphics Enjoy and belated Happy Holidays 💕

Stepping into the apartment feels like the strangest dream; a dream that despite the soft warmth of his home feels fragile to touch, exposed to the cold coil of anxiety.

The space is drowned in shadows, the night having fallen longs hours ago, the only source of glow being the Christmas lights and you, somewhere in the depths of Steve’s sanctuary. At least, that is what he hopes for.

Hope always is a fragile thing, an antithesis to the solidity of fear; and as he closes the door as quietly as he can with one arm in a sling, he wonders whose fear is more suffocating. Yours, that one day, he won’t walk through that door after one of his many missions; or his, that one day, the figurative goblet of patience of yours will overflow and he will come back here only to find the space screaming with emptiness.

He knows the answer, objectively. But the heart and the head are not always in agreement; and he’s a lot more selfish that people seem to think.

His watch buzzes lightly, reporting that yet another hour he spent away has blended into the next one; and without checking, he knows it’s even worse. Not another hour – another day. Christmas Day.

He left you alone for one of the most special nights of the year.

You sleep, the clocks strike a late hour midnight is creeping step by step and behind it, Christmas

The clocks strike, like a cry for help as I await the longest night so that I could turn and look back

The pendulum cuts heavy through the air the vicious circle slowly closing – an anxious feeling drawing claws

There are moments like these when guilt bites heavy and sharp into his gut, his chest full of an ice-cold selfish fear. And he might know that you, staying behind and hoping he comes back alive, have it so much harder than him; but how could he ignore the obvious fact that you are a blessing that his own actions might chase away eventually? A blessing he never wants to let go and guards it with his life?

It is just that the very life sometimes gets in his way. The world does too; the goddamn world he too swore to protect and cannot ignore, because it is a world he lives in and so do you, and he’s saving it for its own sake, as well as his and yours.

And he cannot stay back, cannot merely bear witness from afar. He never could.

That was how he got into the whole mess of waking up seventy years into the future in the first place; that is how he was taken by the all-consuming storm of loving you so much the feeling alone makes it hard to breathe.

Sliding the strap of is shield casing off his shoulder, shrugging off the coat half-draped over his back, he cranes his neck a bit, feeling the stiffness; he nearly dozed off in the car, the heavy coil of dread as well as the giddy excitement of coming home barely keeping him awake. For once, he was grateful for Tony’s flare of dramatics and luxury and private drivers – driving in his state would not be wise, even as Steve would probably handle it despite his exhaustion. The problem was the snowstorm. And yet, even for that, he was grateful; as he walked home, the wind and the sharp snowflakes cut into his cheeks, prickling in his eyes, the sensation jolting him awake.

A little punishment for needing to be a hero; a little punishment for leaving you to be exactly that.

He shakes the melting snowflakes from his hair, ignoring the waves of ache in his left arm crashing down his forearm, then runs his unharmed hand through the wet locks. A few tips almost frosted over, now already giving way to the warmth of the space.

Taking off his boots too, Steve sighs, gulping against the lump that has grown in his throat, and steps further into the apartment, an anxious hope thrumming in his bruised ribcage.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – you dream, and on your lips a whisper: my love

Listening intently over the thunderous pulse in his temples, his shoulders slump suddenly, another tug of pain in his flesh; but by god, he is happy to have the pain ground him in the moment of reality, for it truly feels like a dream.

Your slow, regular breaths.

For the smell of Christmas and all the visual clues – from the decorations, the lights, the plate of gingerbreads you had baked together just before he left, down to your shoes and coats – it was the sounds of your peaceful sleep that undeniably proved your presence with finality. And soothed him.

He truly was coming home. And despite the mission not being a light one, despite his arm being broken in two places, despite the mission lasting way too long to his liking and happening with the worst possible timing – this is the thing that makes his eyes sting with tears.

This and the awfully sharp memory of him leaving, having got the call between decorating gingerbreads of the most ridiculous work-related shapes and preparing dough for Christmas cookies.

It’s so vivid in his mind, the image etched into his brain and bones. Your bright smile slipped, the gorgeous light in your eyes dimming, giving way to resignation and bravery. The mirage of joy dissipated in front of Steve like the steam from above the cups of hot chocolate he had prepared for you two to enjoy, his hands as if reaching out to hold onto it and only grasping air.

“Sweetheart-“

“I know, Steve,” you said, already moving to the sink to wash your hands, hiding your face away from him and tearing his heart in half not with the crack of emotion in your voice, but with the clear effort to mask it.

How he wished you’d screamed at him instead, mad and teary; because a wild emotion like anger meant people cared.

And that was his greatest fear, wasn’t it? That one of those days, you wouldn’t even care anymore.

You wouldn’t care whether he was with you; you wouldn’t care if he came back, because you’d be long gone. How many times had he cancelled dates, called off trips? How many times had he broken promises, only just a little, because he tries not to promise the impossible?

How he did wish he was capable of impossible, just for you. But he couldn’t.

How many times would finally be too many…?

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I-“

“Steve. It’s okay. I get it,” you said, turning to him at last. The glimmer of tears in your eyes – waking sensation in his chest awfully reminding him of the one time he had had a punctured lung – showed him just how wrong he had been.

No, he’d rather you didn’t care at all, that you didn’t hurt like this for him. Or did he? He was not quite sure.

But he sure knew that being the reason for your tears, even if kept at bay, was like an eagle’s claws sinking into his chest and pullingand pulling until it seemed it couldn’t even hurt anymore, but it did. Every damn second.

But you held your head so high, gaze shakingly latched onto his to prove he did not have to worry, because you understood his sense of duty; he did not have to worry, because that was what you agreed to deal with when letting him put an engagement ring on your finger with happy tears and a string of the sweetest yes, yes, yes-- that he did not have to worry at all, or not much at least; and that worried him all the more.

He’d pull a miracle if he could, he would, just to see you smile again, just to--- anything. But he could not ignore this, he could not ignore people needing his help, that was what he was born and made into to do, after all; but so was loving you. He wasn’t sure if he believed in fate, but there had to be a special kind of higher purpose in finding you after all the years of loneliness and yearning for someone just like you; you were made for each other, star-crossed lovers battling odds of being born seven decades apart. He must have been destined to meet you; destined to love you.

And now he was disappointing you, again.

How long until you’d stop believing that this was love?

How long until you’d move on to someone was here, always, because that was what your tender heart deserved?

No. Steve would pull a miracle, he had to, just to keep you smiling; just to keep you. A week had to be enough. No, to hell with a week, he’d be done in three days just to make it home in time-

“I’ll try my damnest to be home for Christmas, I promise-“

You shook your head gingerly, eyes turning warmer despite its wet glimmer, your smile a little wobbly – but oh so brave – as you reached out to cradle his face in your palms.

They smelled like gingerbreads and sugar and gentleness he wasn’t quite worthy of.

“Don’t, Steve…” you whispered, his heart dropping to his feet, an icy shiver cutting through his spine. “I… I don’t need you to promise that.”

“What can I do, then? What do you need?” he pleaded, the desperation at missing your Christmas, again, creeping into his voice so acutely he felt he might have shrunk several inches, all the way back to the times before the serum, a too little man, a fierce fighter who’d throw fists with determination much greater than his actual power.

Fighting; but oh so vainly.

Please, just let me fix this--- for you, for us. I have to go, I really do, but I’ll do anything to make up for not being here-

Your smile was a little broken by the edges, like one of those sculptures of angels, weeping for humanity and loving it all the same.

“What I always do, love. For you to come home in one piece and try your damnest to do so,” you echoed his words, your slightly hoarse voice growing stronger at the curse; and so did the steel of determination in his gaze in response.

Because he’d be damned before disappointing you that profoundly. He was always going to tear the world apart to get back to you.

“That I promise.”

That I can do. Always.

“Good,” you breathed.

You stood up on your tiptoes then, bringing your lips to his, pouring love and courage and fears he was too aware of into the kiss, much like wordlessly speaking your plea.

Come home. Come home to me in one piece.

And he would. Oh he would.

‘If we can’t cancel the stream of time,’ you said ‘then I only wish for one thing – for you to never leave me’ ‘alone, I’m a sailboat without wind’ And your lower lip wobbled, soft so I held you, with a vow to try my best

Following the sound of your breathing on instinct, Steve’s own hitches in his lungs, his steps ceasing far away from the bedroom. Instead, his gaze finds you laid on the couch with a view of the tree, sleeping soundly, a fluffy blanket draped over your form; and Steve’s heart aches, along with his neck, as if with sympathy for yours.

You admitted it before, under soft duress, that you sometimes struggled to sleep in the empty bed; you even joked that with how large Steve was, it truly was practically empty, your laugh a little shaky. As shaky as Steve’s legs now felt, the weakness having little to do with the exhaustion of the mission draping over him and everything to do with finding you home, losing sleep without him.

Bucky joked that maybe they should just lie under the tree once they get home, for their dolls to find them in the morning, like the greatest gift to unwrap at Christmas: because they made it home and made it in time.

Steve would argue with the latter; and about the former too. With how the couch was situated, made so you and Steve could rest, bodies half-tangled and your head on his chest, it is that you are now positioned like the greatest gift there could ever be.

And you are.

With your profile illuminated by the soft glow of Christmas lights, Steve is drawn to you like a believer witnessing an icon come to life; a miracle. You, still home, still awaiting him. As your hand fists the comforter, hands almost to your lips, your neck is exposed and so is the hem of Steve’s old shirt you chose as your attire along with a pair of too-long sweats peeking from under the blanket; his again.

Not just awaiting then; missing him. Caring.

His heart swells, the suffocating anxiety slowly giving way to something much more tender.

He steps closer, crouching in front of the couch, eyes feasting on the holy image, tempting to his touch. He does not want to rouse your sleep and yet, he swears he might die if he didn’t touch you this very second, didn’t see your smile upon seeing him home again – and as late as he is, still in somewhat in time.

Home for Christmas – hasn’t he said so?

He’d have run barefoot through the streets of Manhattan and Brooklyn had the traffic frozen on the frozen streets, just to make it home to you. He’s glad he didn’t have to do that – but he would. After all, what is a little frostbite if you’d kiss him once he got home? Your lips could melt away the Arctic itself, your embrace a safe haven on the raging seas; he’d take another decade in ice if it meant meeting you. It if meant being loved by you.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – you dream, and on your lips a whisper: my love

As his gaze roams, he notices the light salty traces on your cheeks; ribcage rattled all over again, guilt gnaws at his stomach. You aren’t crying in your sleep, but at some point, you have cried. And it could have just been a sad song, or one of those cheesy but still touching Christmas movies, but his conscience knows better.

You have cried for him.

Worse yet, maybe you have cried because of him.

Hand twitching to sooth the pain already gone, he closes it into a fist instead; he would only be soothing himself, easing his guilt. You have cried and he hasn’t been there – whether that was correlation or causality didn’t matter. It was done. He shouldn’t disturb you. He’ll grab a little snack and sleep off the mission and start making up for his sins in the morning.

Glancing towards the kitchen area, he sighs quietly, gritting his teeth to stand without a hiss of pain.

“Steve…”

He freezes mid-motion, eyes snapping to your face again; a faint smile on your lips, your fingers flex around the comforter again.

In an instant, Steve snaps into preparing for explanations, apologies, his mind a whirlwind of whats and whys and sorries—

And then he realizes you are still asleep.

The soft waves of affection washing over him as he hears his name fall from your lips again nearly suffocate him all over again, the most pleasant weight settling in his heart.

And an uncontrollable urge. You have cried for him; but now, you are dreaming of him and there are no fresh tears; not in your eyes anyway. His fingers twitch again; no more worthy or justified than before, but with painful numbness which can only be erased by finally touching you.

He reaches out carefully, the pads of his fingers laid tenderly over your knuckles.

Due to all my missteps and fails should’ve been long out of the door

So now I whisper into your hair that you won’t get rid of me that easy

You all but stir minutely, a sweet frown to your brow, your breath remaining steady; Steve’s inner turmoil might not be resolved, but is eased enough as not to disturb you further. This is just enough; just enough to keep him sated and exactly as much as he deserves, not more, he thinks, mind set.

His fingers have a mind of their own however, guided by his heart.

The lightest brush over your hair, over the arche of your eyebrow, over the slope of your nose, over your soft cheek and the gentle line of your jaw, his fingers stopping but a breath from your parted lips. He commits your features to memory, revisiting a piece of art he knew by heart but would always reveal something new to him in its timeless beauty.

The brief discontent rumbling from within your throat and your body curling onto itself brings a smile to Steve’s lips as the memory of many mornings – those where he got to wake you up softly, himself already an hour or two ahead for the day – flashing through his mind, his fingers inching further, your breath tickling his skin before he dares to touch your lips.

And then, slow blinks, a sleepy gaze and pursed lips, curling up in a breathtaking smile.

Steve’s heart skips a startled beat, caught red-handed; but he’d commit the crime all over again, because you’re smiling.

The first time, the second time, every time he sees it; his breath hitches again, his ribs crying out; but he could die a happy man right there – maybe only if you kissed him.

You cover his hand resting on your cheek with yours, pressing a quick kiss to his palm, melting all his doubt away.

This. This spark of joy and relief, scrambling to sit up even as you slightly sway because he’s woken you up from a deep slumber, your eyes roaming his figure, taking count of his injuries, checking if he is indeed home in one piece.

And Steve is counting too; his blessings. You are every single one of them, even as you sigh at the sight of the splint and the no doubt still spectacular bruise the shape of a fist over his right eye.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers before you can scold him, or say anything at all, his voice shaky, a traitorous tear escaping his eye at the all-consuming emotion etched into your gaze, your sweet features.

Your free hand moves to cradle his cheek carefully, so tenderly for the fear of pressing too hard and making it hurt that it does hurt him – in all the best ways. His eyes slip shut at the sensation, his aching ribcage so blissfully full of affection he might burst.

And it might as well, when he feels your warm breath fanning over his face, before your lips press gently to his forehead.

Halfway through the strangest of nights you sleep, on your lips an absent smile – and I’m so afraid I don’t deserve to be so lucky – and you dream

“Sweetheart,” he echoes, a creak in his voice he is not proud of – but he feels some of your hot tears join his and his hand slips to your waist, guiding you to slide down the couch to join him on the floor, to hold you close and he could weep forever – not because you brushed over his broken arm despite your best efforts, but because it feels like he can finally breathe again, your body pressed to his, bruised ribs or not.

“Did I not tell you to come home in one piece?” you scold him without malice, a wet laugh escaping his throat as he nuzzles your hair, his lips brushing over your temple, your cheek, breathing you in to overwhelm his senses with you until his lips finally, finally find yours, careful but just as eager as his.

And the kiss tastes so much sweeter than the retort forming in the back of his head about how he is in one piece; his bones might not be, but the soft tissues are and the serum and the fast intervention of the talented Avengers Initiative doctors made sure that even his bones are already mending.

Judging by the look in your eye when you retreat to gulp in some air, you heard that train of thought anyway, despite being but an ordinary, extraordinary human. You convey so much emotion in a single glance, let alone with such lingering look.

You look like you want to call him two halves of an idiot and maybe smack him for whatever stunt you knew he pulled, even if you don’t; you look grateful he is your whole idiot and he is still here for you to smack him. Or kiss him again. He’ll take either; as long as you care.

As long as you love him, just as he loves you.

“I got home for Christmas at least?” he offers, earning an exasperated grimace, once again displaying your dilemma.

You choose to kiss him again, softly, a silent involuntary whine escaping him as you let him angle your head to kiss you deeper and consume you whole, and this, if this isn’t heaven, if this isn’t the best Christmas gift ever, you curled around him in a ridiculous shape less than three feet from a Christmas tree, he’ll be doesn’t know what is.

He doesn’t care. He only cares that he has you.

Later, he’ll marvel at how you automatically move to take a turkey out of the freezer to prepare for a Christmas lunch instead of dinner, how you saved him a sandwich just in case, and how his gifts, so thoughtful, are wrapped for whenever he’d come home; how you give him a certain kind of look and caress his cheek and peck his lips when he weakly suggests that you don’t and didn’t have to do any of that, but you never listen.

How your every action is a testimony to how you do not care about when you celebrate Christmas, only that it’s with him.

But for now, he has everything he wants and needs and could ever wish for. It still feels like he wished for too much, more than he’d deserve; but today, he can. It is Christmas, after all, and you are his everyday miracle, his greatest gift.

And for all the greatest gift he gets, he will work for hard every day – and he will cherish it and protect and adore no matter the time of year, keeping the most important promise he ever gave you.

He will always come home; and he will always, always love you.

I swear to you, I don’t always make it easy I swear to you, you won’t get rid of me that easy I swear to you, I’m never gonna leave you I swear to you – and you sleep, unaware my love

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Thank you if you gave this a read, even post the main Christmas time ✨ If you find a minute, feedback is life 💕

May the end of the year be kind to you ✨

[artists-ally]

I think Harvey would be thw type of person who makes love specially when he’s feeling sad. Like he needs comfort and to be as close to his s/o as possible, fingers intertwined and all that nice shit. How do you think reader would comfort him after he had a discussion with someone of his family?

{Oh, My Human Heart} Reader x Harvey Specter

So my mind went to [SEASON 8 EPISODE 5 SPOILER WARNING] where Harvey went up to Boston to defend his brother against his wife's divorce. That shit crushed my soul man, so this is based on that! Enjoy!! Title is a lyric from this song.

Word Count: 3,191

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, smut, Season 8 Episode 5 Spoilers

Summary: When Harvey returned home from visiting his brother unexpectedly, there is an obvious weight to his shoulders as he slumps inside. And it’s your mission to find out what it is and wipe it from his memory.

Tagging: @kjbg-fantasymoon (your request is next babes <3)

~~~~~~~

The door slammed. Hard. Concerningly hard. 

“Harvey?” You shouted out into the kitchen, taking off the towel from your shoulder and set it on the counter. No one responded. Worry coursed through you, and you grabbed the knife from the cutting board. Just in case. 

Your husband rounded the corner and you jumped, but let the fear drain from your held breath and set the knife down. “Jesus Harvy, you could’ve… hey, what are you doing back here?”

Harvey looked indecipherably pissed. He had hard creases in his face and his lips pressed in that flat line that meant someone was about to see that side of him that meant he was gonna raise hell. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he let his hands fall to his sides. 

“Okay, okay come sit, love,” You reached for him and guided him to the island. “Do you want to talk about it? A distraction? To be left the hell alone?”

That communication strategy had worked wonders when Harvey came home from a lethal case. All the details you knew about this one involved his brother and a divorce from his wife. It had already shattered Harvey’s heart to hear they were splitting up, but this was… this was rage. Raw fury. 

“I am going to open my mouth and let the floodgates go with it, and I just need you to try and make sense of it. Because for reasons only known by Jesus-fucking-Christ himself can this be possible.”

You just nodded, letting Harvey take some deep breaths. You noticed his hands were shaking. He was shaking. What the fuck happened in Boston?

“Marcus called me up there to represent him for his divorce,” Harvey started, thumbs in his eyes. “He told me that it was because she had an affair. I was ready to go kick down her door and take their kids away myself. Turns out, he lied to me. She was divorcing him because he started gambling again and he told Haley not to tell Katie.”

Your blood ran cold, all remorse leaving your body for Marcus. How could he fucking do that? 

“So, tell me this Yn. Why would my own god damn brother, who I spent my money on to build him a dream restaurant, lie to my fucking face? Not once. Not twice. Four times. Four opportunities he had to tell me and he waited till the last fucking second. I-I can’t even begin to describe how sick it makes me feel to have Haley be put in that position.”

“It is wildly unfair for her, and for their son,” you felt awful for them. They were the sweetest kids and didn’t deserve to have that weight on their shoulders. 

“I mean, was he not apart of the fucking family when mom did that to me? Did he suddenly just show up on our doorstep one night looking for a place to sleep like a stray cat? No, he didn’t. He’s my fucking brother. He was there when mom did it to me. And he saw what it did to our family. What it did to me. He was the one trying to fix our fucking fucked up family. To piece it together after the fall out and he expects me to do the same when he did the one thing worse than practically fucking cheating on her.”

“Harvey I think that's a little-”

“Now he’s destroying his own life. No, not even destroying, destroyed. He has ruined all chances of working things out between him and Katie and honestly, I can’t be fucking bothered to watch it crumble to the ground. And the worst part of it is he had the audacity to ask me to win this case. He doesn’t deserve to win let alone ask me. What a selfish, lying son of a bitch-”

“Harvey,” you placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from walking away. He had been moving around animatedly, now up out of his seat and waving around. “Take a deep breath. Please.”

He did.

“Good,” You smiled softly. 

He took another. And another. “Sorry… just- sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You came and stood in front of him, hands flat on his chest. “Let’s go and get you changed and we can keep talking through it. If you’d like.”

Though Harvey’s eyes were harsh, that anger wasn’t directed at you. You’ve dealt with him like this on more than one occasion, and you’ve learned to recognize the difference. He didn’t dare look at you the way he is now.

After taking his hand and leading him up stairs, you took your time undressing him so he could be more comfortable. Once upon a time he had told you that the feeling of your hands on him could make him forget anything and everything. It was only in your best interest to do that for him now. To calm him so he could see the full picture.

Starting with his tie, you walked to the closet and hung it up in the empty space from where you picked it out this morning. Much the same with the jacket, tossing his still crisp white-shirt in the laundry. He handed you his belt and shoes, and while you put them away, he took off his dress pants and put on sweats by the time you came back. 

“Better?” You asked, placing his hands across your middle. 

He smiled, “Better.” 

Harvey was still sitting, but he rested his forehead against your stomach, just breathing. With calm hands you massaged his scalp and neck, his shoulders and arms. It was important to give Harvey his space at times like this, letting him speak when he wanted. Otherwise he’d just get defensive and shut down. That was not beneficial to either of you.

“I’m so fucking mad at Marcus, Yn.”

“I know, my love. I know,” You spoke softly, kissing the top of his head. “So am I.”

“I just don’t understand how he could do that after what mom did to me. I thought- I thought we were brothers again.” 

His voice cracked, and you could feel the first tear drops soak through your shirt and cool your skin. Your stomach clenched and dropped. You know Harvey and Marcus have been rocky for decades, but since he forgave his mom and started rebuilding their relationship, things naturally got better with Marcus. 

So much for all that hard work. And you had been so proud of him for taking those steps. And you knew the toll it took on him. Now it was all back at square one. 

“I am so sorry, Harvey.”

“What the fuck do I do?”

You paused for a long while. “I don’t know.”

When he looked up at you, eyes all red and bleary, you wanted to fly to Boston and smack Marcus yourself for putting Harvey right back where he was when he was sixteen. He may not have been the one asked to keep a secret this time, but he knows what it’s like to be in that situation. To feel so pinned and powerless. The looming decision of whether he should betray his mom or dad, a constant threat, and either outcome will ruin the family. 

“Are you up for listening to my ideas or do you still need to get things off your chest?” All you got was a shrug and a few spilled tears. “Okay, there’s no rush.”

“I just don’t know what to do, Yn. I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do. I want to beat him into the dirt the most. I want to hold Haley and tell her that none of this was ever her fault and she is not the one to blame. Goddamn do I want to hug Haley right now…”

You had to close your eyes. You didn’t want to see Harvey in this position, especially because you knew what this did to him. It stirred up all those memories and emotions from decades ago. Now they were all at the surface, controlling every one of his thoughts. And there isn’t a whole lot that you can do to get them to stop.

“I think you’re angry.”

“You’re goddamn right I’m angry,” Harvey huffed, making you let out a weak chuckle. 

“And I also think that I know you when you’re angry. And that you don’t think clearly when you are. So, how about we distract you for a while and then we get some sleep. Then, maybe in the morning, we lay it all out again and go over what we know. Look at all the facts and whatnot. Because, despite your very much warranted anger towards Marcus, he is still your brother. And family means more than anything to you, Harvey. I can’t let you spend the next thirty years in regret for not trying. You owe that to yourself. Not anyone else.”

“I don’t even know where to start with all this bullshit.”

“That’s where I come in,” You smiled, sitting in his lap with one leg on each side of his. “Look Harvey, you have every single right to be upset. I am pissed at Marcus for doing that to Haley. But I will not let this drive another cavern between you and him. The two of you have been through enough. He fucked up, and he knows it because you’re Harvey goddamn Specter and you told him he did. But you forgave him once. And you forgave your mom. It is worth a shot to hear him out, and I’m not saying it has to be right away either. Just eventually.”

Harvey’s brown eyes darted around your face, that tight line still on his lips. When you tilted your head and batted your lashes, he sighed out, nodding. “Okay, okay fine you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” your smile made him finally unclench the space between his brows. “It’s because I’m really good at knowing who you are, and knowing how to approach a situation. You’re good at being a kick-ass lawyer and I’m good at taming that kick-ass lawyer.” “You love it when I let that animal out of the cage,” he smirked, hands stroking down your thighs. 

“If you refer to yourself as an animal in a cage again I will walk out that door and spend the night at Donna’s.”

“Okay okay,” he grinned ear to ear, pressing kisses on your cheek, then down your neck. “I’m sorry for being so… hostile. Thank you, Yn. For calming me down.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“I don’t know what it is that you do, but you make it all disappear.”

“It’s my secret,” you whispered, kissing his lips. “And I won’t ever tell.”

“I bet I could make you tell me,” Harvey winked and grabbed around your waist, taking you with him when he leaned back. 

“Oh, is that a fact?” “No, but it is a challenge.” 

He tangled his hand in your hair, bringing your mouth to his. He tasted like whatever cheap whiskey he had on the plane and mint. You let your body form to his and didn’t mind the way his tongue found yours. Harvey’s hands were gentle as they peeled away the cardigan on your shoulders, tossing it away to be picked up later. 

He took his time, slowly stripping you and easing you on your back. You wrapped your legs around his waist and needed to have his mouth on yours again. He was such a good kisser. So thorough and precise with what he wanted to do to you. 

And he was always very thorough. 

Harvey placed kisses down your chest, down your stomach and to each hip.

“Babe-”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Just let me do what I want. You just lay back and look pretty. Fuck do you look pretty, my love.”

Your heart melted. Normally he had a wicked, dirty tongue but tonight was obviously different. He wanted something to focus on, and if that was going to be you, then so be it. You surely weren’t going to stop him from spreading your knees and tucking his head to your core. 

If Harvey could do one thing for the rest of his life, he’d sure have a hard time picking between you and the law. While he loved his work, your mind and body were two things even the high of winning couldn’t compare to. Harvey loved you. Ferociously. With every part of his body he loved you. 

His tongue circled your clit, and your hand went in his hair to keep him there. The laugh that tumbled from him was nothing short of star-seeing. One thing about Harvey is if you weren’t satisfied and thensome, neither was he. He loved making you cum on his tongue, loved how you tasted. 

It wasn’t long before you warned him you were close, and he just hummed into you, vibrations making you arch up off the bed, tugging equally as hard on his hair as you did the sheets beside you. 

“I will never get sick of making you feel good, Yn. I love that I am the one who gets to spend these moments with you.”

“Harvey,” you swooned, cupping his face to bring him back up so you could kiss him. Your scent was strong on his lips and made you only need him that much more. All it took was a few impatient grabs at his shirt to make him take it off so you could finally get your hands on that body of his. 

All that time in the boxing gym surely paid off. 

Harvey brough your knee up and pushed it flat on the bed, pulling the other one around his hip. He pushed in, chest to chest with you as he sat still for a few moments. 

“I love you so much, Yn,” Harvey whispered, thumb training down your cheek, your neck. He slid it all the way down your arm and laced your fingers together, kissing them as he pulled back. He wouldn’t leave your lips alone, not that you wanted that in the slightest. He was all soft words and pleas of desperation. Telling you how good you felt.

It was like your wedding night all over again. When the two of you met, it had been in a fury of hands and tongues. All fast because there wasn’t a second to waste when it finally happened. But on your big day, he laid you down, just like this, and worshiped you all night long. 

Every word from his mouth was just him telling you how much you meant to him, his body seconding that omission. He was so dedicated to you, to making you feel good. It was all long, smooth strokes of his body inside yours, the warmth of your combined breaths. Swallowing each other's noises of pleasure.

“I am so in love with you,” Harvey smiled. “I am so fucking in love with you.”

You couldn’t hide your smile if you tried. It wasn’t rare that Harvey was affectionate– per say– but this was an illusive moment. He wine and dined you whenever you asked, you were always his plus one anywhere in the world. But it was these small, yet enormous moments of intimacy that you cherished the most. This was a side of Harvey that took a very long time to bring to the surface. And he too realized the weight of just taking his time and being soft with you. 

“I love you too, Harvey,” you whispered against his face, his mouth now busy with the side of your neck. Harvey couldn’t keep his hips slow for long, and they snapped to yours. Air pushed out of your mouth and right into his ear, right where it drove him crazy to hear what he did to you. 

“Fuck, my love, if you keep making those sounds this isn’t exactly going to be how I-”

“Now it’s my turn to take care of you,” you responded, locking your ankles together behind his back.

A shiver ran through his shoulders and he dropped to his elbows, hips driving into you faster and faster. Harder. It didn’t take him long to reach his high, fucking you through it. His heart pounded underneath his skin so hard you could feel it. A slight sweat at the back of his head where hair met skin. 

When he lifted his head, his eyes looked less… weighted. He looked much more himself. Muc more like Harvey and a little less like Mr. Specter. 

You mentally patted yourself on the back. 

There wasn’t anything you could do to convince him to not drag you into the shower down the hall. The warmth of the water, the heaviness in your body only made his fingers on your scalp that much better. He kissed all over, giving your ass a loving smack when getting out before wrapping a big towel around the both of you. 

“Promise in the morning that we can do this all again and then I can make you a big breakfast?”

“Only if you promise that there will be sausage and bacon,” your eyes were droopy, but the smile reached them anyway. 

“Good thing Postmates will go to the grocery store nowadays,” Harvey slipped one of his shirts over your head, straightening it out over your body. “You look so adorable in my clothes.”

“I know, why do you think I wear them when you’re gone?” “You wear my clothes when I’m gone?” You pff’ed out some air, “Don’t act like you don’t notice the suspiciously large pile of your laundry in the hamper when you come back.”

“I don’t think you know how happy that makes me, Yn,” Harvey’s smile was nothing short of pure adoration. He was never short on pure adoration when it came to you. 

“Yes I do,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why do you think I do it?”

“Because you know me. Really really well.”

“That I do.”

Harvey breathed out, shaking his head. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for something anyone would do for their husband.”

“Well, in my experience, most wives aren’t nearly as observant or as dedicated as you are, Yn. And I want you to know how much I appreciate you and everything you help me through when I don’t know how to help myself.”

Your eyes melted, much like your heart when he hugged you. Nice and tight and just how you liked them. You always felt impossibly safe with him, and his hugs were impossibly your favorite thing in the world. 

Harvey would listen better in the morning. Especially after a good night's sleep. You just hope that all your efforts will lead him in the right direction. And that direction isn’t the clearest right now, and that’s okay. Both of you know it’s okay to not make a decision as big as something like this.

But you know Harvey will try. And that is all you can ask of him.

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 8: Obvious

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 4.7k

Chapter 8/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Another week of y'all reading my mediocre song lyrics. Let's wrap this up by the new year.

18+ Minors DNI (mature)

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Saturdays were for tennis. Every weekend, if your dad were in town, he’d send a message inviting you and Isabella for your weekly tennis match, followed by tea on the patio with your mom. It had been this way ever since Isabella was a tiny girl, a tradition that had endured through the years.

You’d grown up watching your father maintain his high-profile career—managing bands, launching artists, orchestrating deals—but when he was home, he always made time for this simple ritual. Tennis and tea. Just the four of you. You smiled as you stepped onto the courts, the early morning sun casting a soft golden glow over everything. He was already on the court, wearing his usual pair of black sunglasses and his signature calm, calculating demeanor. His presence alone was enough to put most people on edge. But not you. You knew your father better than anyone. He had always been a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes.

The sound of the tennis ball bouncing off the court snapped you back to the present. Isabella was sitting off to the side with your mother and a cup of tea, chatting away like a little grown-up. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them together. Isabella was growing into her own person, and you felt lucky to have witnessed all of it. Especially now, when she would listen to your conversations, paying half attention but always absorbing every detail. Then she'd offer her advice as if you weren't the parent.

“So,” Nick said, casually hitting the ball back over the net. “How’s this Natasha girl?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. You had expected it, sure. Your father had been strangely quiet about your dating life up until now. He’d asked about Sam before, mostly because he liked the guy, and you were married to him, but Natasha? That was a different story.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your tone light. “She’s good, Dad. Really good. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

Nick nodded, but you could see the gears turning in his head. The intensity in his eyes never wavered, and he returned the ball with more force than usual, almost like he was using tennis as an excuse to let out his frustration.

“You’re serious about her?” he asked, his voice more guarded than you were used to.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “She’s someone special.”

Nick didn’t say anything at first. He just watched you for a moment as if waiting for more. His next words came slowly, weighed down with skepticism. “I still don’t know about this whole rockstar thing. Are you sure about her? Where did you meet her?"

You knew this would come up. The idea of you dating someone in that world—especially Natasha—wasn’t exactly sitting well with him.

"Harley's birthday party," You glanced at Isabella, who was pretending to sip her tea but clearly eavesdropping. You softened your tone, mindful of her presence. “Dad, Natasha’s not just a rockstar. She’s more than that. We connect in ways that I haven’t felt before. She’s not like the others.”

Nick’s gaze didn’t soften. “I know the type. They can be... unpredictable.”

You let out a small sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “She’s different. I promise. She makes me happy.”

His expression remained neutral, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He jogged to the other side of the court, sending the ball flying back toward you. “I’m sure she’s got her charms. But you're my daughter. I need to know you're with someone who will treat you right. Someone who can handle all this,” he gestured to the life he'd essentially built for you.

You caught the ball and paused momentarily, considering your father’s words. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but this is my decision. And I really think Natasha’s someone worth taking a chance on.”

Nick set his racket down, his arms crossing in a familiar stance. “Alright, I’ll meet her.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You hadn’t expected that so soon.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “If she’s serious about you, I want to see it myself. I’ve got to meet this Natasha.”

You felt a sense of relief, but that underlying tension was still over you. It wasn’t just about Natasha proving herself to your father; it was about you figuring out where your relationship was headed. You hadn’t even begun to put all the pieces together in your mind, but now, with your dad’s approval, it felt like things were moving faster than you could keep up with.

“Well, looks like you’re going to have to start warming up to the idea,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Nick just grunted, grabbing his racket again. “We’ll see how this plays out.”

"She's really nice, Papa Nick," Isabella joined in. "We went to the movies last week, and she bought me the biggest-sized popcorn."

"Is that so?" Nick raised a brow. "Have you met her, Jen?" He looked to your mom for her answer.

"I have not,"

"Hmm," Nick hummed. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see. When is she free?"

"Tomorrow," You replied.

"Perfect. Tomorrow then," He decided.

Good luck to both of you.

***

To say that this brunch was awkward was an understatement. Your father, ever the master of subtle intimidation, had given Natasha the cold shoulder despite your repeated pleas for him to ease up. He wasn’t outright rude or cruel—Nick Fury didn’t operate that way—but his protective instincts were dialed up to eleven. A quiet comment here, a lingering stare there—it was enough to make even you, a mid-twenties divorcee with a sharp tongue, squirm.

Natasha, for her part, seemed unfazed. She sat next to you at the long dining table, her posture relaxed, her green eyes scanning the room with genuine interest. She’d earlier complimented the house’s mid-century charm, admiring the collection of vinyl records your dad kept in pristine condition. Now, she was nursing her coffee, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the cup, looking every bit the calm rockstar you’d come to admire.

“So, Natasha,” your dad’s voice broke the silence, his tone casual but carrying an edge, you knew all too well. He leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was one of his clients sitting across the negotiation table. “Did you go to college?”

Natasha glanced at you briefly, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips before she turned to your dad. “I didn’t,” she admitted, her voice steady. “I was already touring in small venues with the band by the time I finished high school. It was a different path, but one I’m proud of.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “No regrets about that?”

Natasha shook her head, her eyes meeting your dad's. She didn't shy away from the challenge.

"I'm not a person who regrets. Not if it means I'm doing what I love."

Your dad hummed, seeming to consider her words. You held your breath, watching the exchange closely. For a moment, it was silent, save for the clinging of your mom's fork against her plate.

"Do you value education?" He questioned.

"I do,"

"Good. Then you'll understand when I say I want the best for my daughter and granddaughter. They deserve nothing less than that."

Natasha nodded, her gaze unwavering. "With all due respect, sir, I believe the same."

"Hmm." Your dad hummed. "You're very direct." Your father nodded slowly, clearly weighing her words. “The music industry’s not exactly a walk in the park. A lot of people get chewed up and spit out.”

Natasha met his gaze without flinching. “That’s true. But I’ve got good people around me and learned how to stay grounded. I’ve also learned how to be better as an artist and person.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Natasha had a way of handling the pressure that you envied, and seeing her hold her own with your father was impressive.

Your dad didn't look away, but you could tell he was contemplating her words.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" He asked bluntly.

Natasha didn't even flinch. "I care deeply about your daughter, sir. She's one of the most genuine people I've met, and I value her input. Her opinion matters to me. I enjoy spending time with her."

Nick's face softened, but only slightly. "I'm glad to hear that. So you understand my hesitation."

Natasha nodded. "Of course. And I'd never disrespect or disregard your family."

"Daddy, do you have to ask her so many questions?" You sighed.

"I'm just trying to get to know the person who's going to spend a lot of time with my grandbaby," He shrugged. "You understand."

"Yes," Natasha responded.

"What are your parents like?" Your father inquired, changing the topic.

"My mother is a science teacher," Natasha said. "She lives in Jersey. I call her twice a week."

"And your father?"

Natasha's jaw tightened. "I haven't spoken to my father since I was sixteen,"

"Why is that?" Your father asked.

Natasha shifted slightly in her chair, her gaze lowering for the first time. "He and my mom got divorced when I was younger. After the divorce, he didn't want anything to do with me."

"Oh," Nick's brow furrowed.

"He wasn't the best man," Natasha's tone was firm, her gaze returning to meet your dad's. "But my mom did a great job raising my sister and me. She always made sure I had a roof over our heads and food in the fridge, and she instilled good morals in us. She taught me how to be a strong woman, and I'm thankful for her every day."

Natasha’s words seemed to strike a chord with Nick. He leaned back in his chair, his expression softening slightly as he considered her answer. You could tell he wasn’t expecting that level of candor or the quiet pride with which Natasha spoke about her mom.

“Sounds like your mom did right by you,” he finally said, a hint of approval in his tone.

“She did,” Natasha replied with a small, genuine smile. “She’s one of the strongest people I know.”

The room seemed to settle momentarily, the tension loosening just enough for your mom to jump in. She had been quietly observing up to this point, sipping her tea with a soft smile. Now, her curiosity sparked.

“You mentioned you have a sister?” Jen asked, her tone warm and inviting.

Natasha turned her attention to her, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yelena. She’s studying at the University of Cambridge right now. International Relations major. She’s brilliant, honestly. Way smarter than I ever was at her age.”

��Cambridge,” Jen echoed, clearly impressed. “That’s no small accomplishment. You must be proud.”

“I am,” Natasha said with a nod. “She worked really hard to get there. We’re close, so I always cheer her on from here.”

Jen smiled, clearly charmed, and even Nick seemed to appreciate the answer. He tapped his fingers on the edge of his coffee cup before leveling his gaze at Natasha again.

“So, you’ve got a smart sister, a strong mom,” he said. “What about you? You know good music?”

You groaned inwardly, recognizing the shift in his tone. Nick Fury’s “test” voice was unmistakable, and you braced yourself for the next question.

Natasha, however, didn’t miss a beat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I’d like to think so. Music’s kind of my whole life.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Alright then. Who’s your favorite artist?”

It was a direct, deceptively simple Nick Fury question designed to put someone on the spot.

Natasha didn’t flinch. She smiled, considering her answer momentarily before replying, “It depends on the day. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours is one of my all-time favorites, but I also love modern stuff. Brandi Carlile, Hozier... sometimes even Billie Eilish when I’m in the right mood.”

Nick nodded slowly, clearly evaluating her response. "What about people that look like me?"

"Dad," you warned, feeling your temper flare.

Natasha's smile didn't fade; she took his question in stride.

"Muddy Waters," Natasha replied, her voice filled with confidence. "Aretha Franklin. Nina Simone."

"Ahh," Nick nodded approvingly, a hint of surprise registering on his face. "I like that. When's your next album coming out?"

"Well, we have a few tracks in the worse. Should be done in the next few months," Natasha wiped her mouth. Discussing music put her at ease. This was her territory. "We have a couple of songs we're still debating about. Actually, we're looking at y/n for the vocals. I was going to mention it to you when we had a moment alone."

"Wanda already did," You nodded.

"You talked to Wanda?" She looked at you.

"Yes, we exchanged numbers at the party," You shrugged. "We talk all the time."

"Of course you do," She muttered.

"Well, how do you feel about the song y/n? "Jen asked.

"I'm a little nervous," You admitted.

"She's got a great voice," Natasha praised. "She's a natural. The song's a perfect fit."

"That's not the issue," You sighed.

"Oh?" Nick perked up.

You sighed, glancing at your parents, who were waiting expectantly. Natasha’s praise was sweet but didn’t erase the knot of hesitation tightening in your chest.

“It’s not that I don’t like the song,” you started, fiddling with your napkin. “Or that I don’t think it’s a great opportunity.”

“Then what is it?” Natasha asked, her voice soft but curious.

“It’s...” You hesitated, glancing at your dad, who was watching you closely now. “I’ve put singing behind me for a reason. I worked hard to separate myself from that world, to build something on my own. And I don’t want anyone thinking—”

“Thinking what?” Natasha leaned in, her tone patient but firm.

“That we’re together because I want to boost my career,” you admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’ve seen those kinds of PR stunts a million times. They’re transparent and cheap, and I don’t want to look like... that.”

"That's completely understandable," Natasha said. She was content to leave it there. She knew firsthand how to handle this topic for you.

"Well, let's hear the song." Your dad suggested.

"Dad..." You began.

"Before you say no to it, at least hear it," He shrugged. "I have a studio in the guest house. Surely Natasha has her music loaded and ready." You knew what this was. He was testing the both of you. He was mostly trying to push you but also gauge Natasha's knowledge of music. This would be interesting.

****

An hour later, Natasha sat at the mixing board, her fingers flipping switches and turning knobs. A laptop propped up nearby displayed Wanda’s face over FaceTime, her expression focused as she listened intently. Nick sat off to the side, arms crossed but intrigued as Natasha played the first track. He didn’t say much, but the way his brows furrowed in thought spoke volumes.

You sat on a low couch a few feet away, curled up with a notebook. Mostly, you’d stayed quiet, content to watch the interplay between your dad and Natasha. It was rare to see him this interested in someone else’s craft—rarer still for him to keep his opinions to himself for more than five minutes.

As the song wound down, Natasha leaned back in her chair and glanced at Wanda on the screen. “What do you think? Too much reverb on the bridge?”

Wanda shook her head. “No, I like it. It gives the vocals more weight. What about layering the guitar riff in the second verse, though? Feels like it could use a little more punch there.”

“Good call,” Natasha nodded, making a note on a pad beside her.

Nick leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “You’re not a producer, are you?”

Natasha chuckled. “Not officially, no. But I’ve spent enough time in studios to pick up a thing or two.”

Nick didn't look impressed.

"I'm the creative force," She smirked. "If we want it, I can do it."

He grunted.

You glanced at your dad, wondering if he would bring up the song you were supposed to record. The question was evident on his face, but he hesitated to voice it.

Wanda, however, didn't have the same reservations. She was always the one to ask the hard questions, especially if the answers mattered.

"Are you going to record the song, or what?"

You let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"I might have written down a few lyrics that fit me better," You acknowledged. You stood to be given the camera. "I'm not saying no, but I want the song to represent me as well. That's all."

"That's fair," Wanda nodded.

"We can try it out right now if you want?" Nick suggested. "Let's see how good your pen actually is."

"It's certainly improved since you last heard it, old man." You jested. Natasha began to play the music and offered you the floor to give constructive criticism. "Well, if you're going to lean into the whole crossover thing, it should feel more R&B. Subtle."

Natasha immediately adjusted the track, tweaking the tempo and softening the guitar riff. The harder punk elements faded into a smoother, almost sensual melody aligned more with an R&B vibe. She glanced at you as she worked, her expression open and eager for feedback.

“Like this?” she asked, her fingers moving expertly across the board.

“Closer,” you said, stepping further into the room. “The drumline should be heavier but not overpowering. Something you feel in your chest, you know?”

Nick raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You’ve got an ear for this.”

“She does,” Natasha agreed, her voice carrying a note of pride. “She hears music differently. It’s why I wanted her on this track.”

Your cheeks warmed at the compliment, but you focused on the task. “And the bridge—it needs to soar. It's like a release before the last chorus. Build up, then let it break down smooth.”

Natasha adjusted the track again, layering in a subtle drumbeat and tweaking the synths to give the bridge the lift you described. She played it back, and the room filled with the revised sound.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you said, nodding. “That feels more like it.”

“Damn,” Wanda said through the camera, a grin spreading across her face. “She’s good.”

You opened your notebook to the page you'd scribbled on. You sat next to Natasha, showing her the lyrics. "I think we should be more of a duet. Obviously, Wanda will be there, but..."

Natasha looked at the lyrics, then at you.

"We're already a duo,"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me," She winked.

"Perfect," Wanda chimed in.

"This is the new bridge," You hummed along with the music, letting Natasha play the music.

"I don't want to make it obvious,

Caught in the midst and can't lie.

Every touch, you make it harder for me, baby,

Go ahead and look me in my eyes."

Your voice laced each line with a hint of vulnerability, and Natasha watched intently, her fingers lightly tapping against her chair to the beat as she mouthed the lyrics along with you.

The pre-chorus was next, soft but building:

"I can admit when I'm hiding from you,

But you see right through my disguise."

The music swelled, and your voice dropped to a raspy, sultry whisper.

"Baby, when I'm with you, I can't hide."

You glanced up at Natasha, meeting her gaze. Her green eyes were intense, and there was a familiar intensity in the way her jaw flexed. She seemed lost, but her lips parted ever so slightly.

"I think that's great," Wanda's voice boomed through your reverie as the music faded.

"It's certainly something," Your dad smirked from his spot in the corner.

"Natasha, what do you think?" You asked. "Does it seem too r&b for you guys?"

"Are you kidding me? You nailed it. It's perfect." Natasha gave you a thumbs-up. "We need to record this, babe. That was really great."

Natasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees, still tapping a rhythm on her thigh. "So, are you in?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying her anticipation.

You hesitated for a beat, not because you doubted the song but because of what it represented—a step into the spotlight you'd carefully avoided for years. Of course, this could all go the opposite way. You could fade back into oblivion, and the song wouldn't even chart. Somehow, you knew you had a hit on your hands. Your gaze flickered to your dad, sitting back in his chair with a knowing smirk.

"You knew this would happen, didn’t you?" you asked him, crossing your arms playfully.

Nick shrugged, his grin widening. "I knew the moment you heard the track, you couldn’t walk away. You’ve got the itch, kid. It’s in your blood."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips. Turning back to Natasha, you said, "Yeah, I’m in. Let’s do it."

Natasha’s face lit up with a grin, and she stood. "You won’t regret it," she said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"I better not," you teased, though your excitement started to bubble beneath the surface.

From the corner of the room, Wanda’s voice came through the speaker. "Finally! This is going to be amazing."

Natasha chuckled, sliding an arm around your waist. "She’s right. This is just the beginning."

Nick clapped his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. "Well, now that we’re all on the same page, let’s record this before you second-guess yourself."

You rolled your eyes again but nodded. "Fine. But if this blows up and I’m on the cover of People next month, I’m blaming all of you."

"Deal," Natasha said, her arm still around you as she leaned in close. Her voice dropped to a murmur, just for you. "But something tells me you’ll love every second of it." 

*****

Later that evening, after the studio session and brunch with your parents, you invited Natasha back to your place. You weren't ready to let her go, reveling in her presence and warmth. You and Natasha found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. The air was still charged with the session's energy, and you couldn't shake your feelings.

Natasha handed you a cup of tea, her fingers brushing yours briefly. "For the nerves," she said with a small smile.

You laughed softly, taking the mug and curling up on the plush couch. "I’m not nervous. Just... processing."

She sat beside you, close but not too close, her arm draped casually along the back of the couch. "Processing what?"

"Everything. I don’t know," you said, sighing. "I thought I was done with all this, you know? But, here I am."

Natasha nodded, sipping her tea and letting the silence hang.

You continued, "I mean, I have a good life. I have a good job, friends, my own place."

"And now a kick-ass duet," Natasha added.

"Yeah, it is really great," You nodded. "Without me. You and Wanda are great songwriters."

"You're not so bad yourself." She grinned. "You have to meet our new manager. Mitch Lester."

"Mitch Lester," You tried it on your tongue. You narrowed your eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," You shook your head. "She manages a couple of my clients."

"Is that good or bad for us?" Natasha tilted her head.

"It's great. She's great," You nodded.

You smiled softly, leaning back into the couch, letting the warmth of Natasha’s presence settle around you. The way she talked to you and never hesitated to share or ask questions were things you didn’t take for granted. In the past, you had been with people who avoided the deeper conversations and let things fester instead of speaking up. But Natasha was different. She didn’t shy away from the difficult topics. In fact, it seemed like she embraced them.

"I’m glad you came to meet my parents," you said, quiet but sincere. "I know it wasn’t easy, but you didn’t flinch."

Natasha’s gaze softened, and she leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her fingers intertwined as she considered your words. "You mean a lot to me, Y/N. Your family means something to me because you mean something to me."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in her voice. The fact that Natasha didn’t just show up out of obligation but because she wanted to connect with you on a deeper level was something you hadn’t expected but needed. You never thought that kind of honesty would feel so right.

"I think that’s why I like us," you said, your voice a little more confident now. "You always let me in. You communicate with me. You never make me guess or wonder what you're thinking."

Her lips twitched into a smile, a small chuckle escaping her. "I try to keep it simple," she said with a wink. "No games."

You laughed, feeling your nerves ease even more. How she looked at you and made you feel seen was a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

"You really don’t hold back, do you?" you teased, feeling lighter and more at ease than you had in weeks.

"No reason to," Natasha replied. She moved a little closer, her knee brushing against yours. "I’ve always been more straightforward. With you... it’s easy."

It was easy. That was the truth of it. You didn’t have to question Natasha’s intentions, and that made everything feel smoother and more natural than you could’ve anticipated.

"You know, I’m happy," you said, your voice softening. "Like, genuinely happy. I don’t think I’ve felt this way in a while."

Natasha’s expression softened, her hand subtly brushing against yours. "I’m happy too, Y/N. It’s just... easy, isn’t it?"

You nodded, eyes meeting hers. "Yeah. It is."

A comfortable silence stretched between you both, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that came from mutual understanding, from a connection that didn’t need words. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself just feel—letting the moment unfold, enjoying the simplicity of being with someone who saw you, truly saw you, and accepted you as you were.

"I love you," Natasha said smoothly. Your eyes widened as you tried to process what she'd said. She leaned closer to you, her lips ghosting over yours, the tension palpable.

"I...I love you too." You said with such sincerity Natasha almost swooned. This felt right. You didn't want to think about how long you'd been dating or whether or not things would go bad. Here, in this moment, you were comfortable with each other. You loved her.

Natasha captured your lips with her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close. The kiss was passionate and fierce, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. Her hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She was fire, and you were drawn to her like a moth.

"You said it back," Natasha said her voice husky. She pushed you to lie gently on the couch.

"I said it back," You giggled. "I do love you."

Natasha groaned softly, her lips trailing a path down your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arched into her touch, feeling your body responding to her. You were two magnets drawn to each other and couldn't resist the pull.

Natasha's hand slid beneath your shirt, her fingertips tracing patterns on your skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

"This is real for me," She whispered. "You and me. It's real."

"I know," You murmured, your eyes locked on hers. You could feel her emotions in how her hands roamed your body, how her lips sought yours, and how her breath hitched when your fingertips brushed her skin.

She kissed you again, this time with an intensity that left you breathless.

"It's real for me too." 

This is the part where we gear up for some real rockstar Hollywood shit to go on in the next chapters. ---> next part

[bellasprettywords]

Hey, I love your writing! I was wondering if you’d do a little something based off of the lyrics “Well, every once in awhile, she'll find my number in her phone and we'll talk for hours She'll tell me things I would have never known about when we were together She's saying, "Sorry, it's just such a long walk home" So she's coming over cause it's better than being alone” Spencer Reid x female reader. I was thinking more like a Midwest emo alt type of character, totally not someone you’d expect Spencer to go for?

I think your nose is bleeding (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Thank you very very much for the request!! I hope you like this little one shot, because I didn't know the song, but I hope I could meet your expectations🩷✨

My masterlist

Requests are always open🥰

Warnings: Mmm apart of it being a little messy, I think there's nothing, but it fluff

Word count: 1,232

y/n – your name

Spencer and you were kind of an odd couple, excuse me, a couple of friends for the untrained eye. While he’s a trained scholar with a collection of PhDs on Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering; with an impressive job as a profiler at the FBI, which most of the time had him travelling all around the country, and a shy personality with socially awkward tints, and a genius brain. You are a tattoo artist with a free spirit, a soft spot for poetry, love for sassy comebacks, and a special love for midwest emo music. Once upon a time, almost a year ago, Spencer and you were a couple, but the two of you decided to leave things as friends, because your lifestyles were quite different, which made a relationship considerably difficult for you. However, the two of you decided to stay friends, which seemed kind of easier as you established a set of rules to make sure everything between the two of you could flow naturally.

Even if it was as friends, you knew that the two of you seemed like polar opposites, but the love you shared always made you be better for each other, growing up, learning about the other’s point of view, and becoming empathetic, even if you didn’t see eye to eye under certain circumstances. After your break-up, Spencer and you learned to compromise and commit to make sure the friendship could work, sure, sometimes it was hard considering his packed schedule, and your love for spontaneous adventures.

It was a little later than you would usually close the tattoo studio, so you decided to call Spencer to see what he was up to; you hadn’t talked in a while, so you weren’t even sure if he was in the city, but it was worth it to take the shot.

“Hey, y/n, it’s nice to hear from you” you heard Spencer’s voice through the phone

“How are you, mighty Doctor Reid?” you asked excited because, deep down, you were really longing to hear Spencer’s voice

“I’m… I’m alright, you know, just doing my thing; how are you? It’s been ages” he said trying to hide his own excitement to hear from you. Sure, you were friends, but deep down Spencer hoped that with time and more organization, maybe someday the two of you could rekindle your previous relationship

“It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I know what you mean! I’ve missed you Spence, I hope I’m not interrupting you at work or anything” you said, walking to your car

“No, I’m just home solving a puzzle, and deciding what to order for dinner” he said

“Uh, that’s nice, I was actually thinking about going to Little India to get take out. I’m really craving chicken curry, want anything?” you said jokingly, pretty sure Spencer wouldn’t catch the subtext

“Uh… sure, some chicken tikka masala and flatbread would be pretty amazing, thank you for asking” Spencer said, ensuring you he didn’t catch the joke

“An order or chicken tikka masala, white rice, and flatbread, coming right up” you said getting ready to hang up the call, when Spencer interrupted

“Wait, don’t hang up” he said as you turned on your car engine “I want to go with you, if that’s okay, I mean, if it’s not an imposition” he stuttered this time

“It would be delightful, sure, I love talking to you” you said with a shy smile forming on your lips, “What have you been up to? Any cool cases I can know about?” you asked Spencer

“I flew in today from Atlanta, we went to solve a case there” Spencer stared telling you all about the case, the unsub and how the team managed to save the victims that were abducted, when a car cut you off and honcked at you

“Jerk” you said under your breath

“y/n! are you okay? what was that?” Spencer asked frantically

“I’m okay, I’m okay, it was just some jerk” you said hoping to soothe Spencer’s concern “Did you know I hate driving?” you asked the young doctor

“I didn’t know that” he said sounding quite surprised at your revelation

“I really do! That’s why I’d always ask you if we could carpool when we were together” you confessed

“Hu… That would’ve been useful information back then” he said, making sure of making a mental note about that, to ensure to drive you whenever he could do it

The two of you kept talking, and the 40-minute drive that you needed to get to your favorite Indian restaurant, suddenly felt like a 5-minute stroll with the one you loved. Talking to Spencer like this felt amazing, it was peaceful, it almost felt natural like breathing, he always had the right words for you and even when you paused the conversation for a little while, the silence between the two of you was incredibly comfortable. You arrived at your destination and while you were ordering the food, Spencer stayed on the line with you, speaking about an impressive number of folkloric Indian stories, and facts about the country. You picked up the food and drove to Spencer’s apartment, this time, the drive was quite short, but that didn’t mean it was least pleasant with Spence’s rambling

When you arrived to the apartment building, Spencer was already downstairs waiting for you

“Hey boy-genious, I was at least hoping I could separate the orders before giving them to you” you said, a little butt hurt that apparently, Spencer didn’t even want you on his apartment

“What are you talking about? I’m here to help you carry the bags upstairs” he said a little confused by your comment

“Oh, I thought… Never mind” you said brushing off the butterflies that starter fluttering inside your stomach

“I’m really glad you called, you had no idea how much I missed you” Spencer said as you were entering the apartment building

“I missed you too Spence” you said

The night went amazingly, and the damn butterflies wouldn’t go anywhere. The two of you eat dinner together, and it almost felt as you have never broken up, the conversation flowed, and you could feel how this was one of those moments you’d always treasure in your heart

“I should get going, it’s a really long drive home” you said as soon as the clock struck 12:00 am

“Don’t go, please, just… stay the night” Spencer pleaded with his puppy eyes

“I really shouldn’t” you replied, avoiding eye contact with Spencer. Sure, one would argue that a friend can stay over at another friend’s apartment, but you knew that with Spencer it would be complicated, especially as you weren’t over him yet

“I’m begging you, I may seem alright, but as soon as I go to bed without you I feel so… empty and alone. This apartment is not the same without you, as a matter of fact, my life is not the same without you” Spencer said taking your chin so you could look at him in the eye

“If I stay the night, I may never leave” you said, gifting Spencer a side smile

“Maybe I just don’t want you to leave” Spencer said, leaning forward and starring intensively into your eyes, so you did what any normal person who has the object of his or her desire would’ve done: you leaned forward, and kissed Spencer

[ladyelissarose]

‘Me & My Broken Heart’

Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider-Woman Reader

Spider-Woman goes by - ‘Dulce’ means ‘sweet�� in Spanish.

Summary: Miguel finds a daughter in you.

Warnings: FLUFF. period. It’s very short but it’s cute

“All I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a little love in the daaaaaark... A little but I'm hoping it might kick start... Me and my broken heart... nah nuh nah nuh na na na..”

Miguel typed away on his numerous screens, trying to ignore the way you sounded from afar off... as you sang this song ‘Me & My Broken Heart’ for the 1 millionth time. It was a sweet melody to his ears, you sounded almost angelic and carried the chords and lines perfectly... but it was the lyrics that shot him to his soul and made his heart squeeze painfully.

He hadn’t let himself feel love for a very long time now.. and he desperately craved it. Especially when he had you around, yes you were a teenager, but he felt a special care for you, ever sense you saved his life when he first came to your universe. He hadn’t seen anyone do such for him in a long time. And it made him feel in a way he hadn’t felt in a while.. a fatherly love submerge him.

Now he always has an eye on you, making sure you were safe and sound, he guarded you like a father would. If he couldn’t get being a father to Gabriella right, then he’d be your guardian as best as he could.. back in your home you didn’t have a family anyways, you fended for yourself and worked hard in between your two lives. Being Spider-woman sacrificed your family.

So Miguel went as far as providing a home for you in your universe and paying for your early college classes, when you admitted to him you wanted to be a chemist. You told him it wasn’t necessary but he swore by his decision that it was, and that you deserved it after all you’ve done for your city.

You two ended up being around one another a lot, on missions and even in your civil lives, he’d come to see you and make sure no one was bothering you or just hang out around your favorite places.

Miguel would be quiet most of the time, but he was genuinely happy and invested in you as he watched you be care-free around him, with your talk about teenage drama from school to your silly pranks on him.

And when you were a little quiet he spoke to cheer you up or teach you something new, like making a mess with empanadas or a cool swinging trick.

At the end of the day he either had a new bruise from try skateboarding with you or a sharpie drawn heart or cheesy joke on his arm. But nonetheless he was a listening ear and wise voice to you too, and he protected you with his life.

Everyone knew Miguel had a special place for you, and they left it at that, not wanting to take away what he found peace in- even if he hardly showed it or ever admitted it. Ever so often they’d push you to be around him when he was the grumpiest, and you gladly stuck to his side like glue, even if he told you he didn’t want to hear your voice at all or tell you to sit where he couldn’t see you.

But that was only because he wanted to control himself from hurting you with words or actions, like when he tosses things out of anger or frustration. He knew he’d kill himself if he ever hurt you, you were his best little buddy, his ‘little me’ and shadow.

Although he kept you around for he found a sense of comfort at knowing your peaceful and sweet soul was around to calm his raging feelings. Even when seen and not heard- or vice versa.

And today he wasn’t feeling his best… today was Gabriella’s birthday. The anger and guilt he felt towards himself weighed heavier than anything he had ever carried. So he asked Lyla to nicely ask you to go on a mission check with Gwen, and to come back later.

Soon when he didn’t hear your sweet voice singing anymore, he broke out and tossed his stuff everywhere, shouting curses and blaming himself for screwing up, regretting what he did.

Amongst everything he tossed around, a sticky note got stuck to his arm, and seeing he bright pink paper on him caught his attention and he ripped it off, but his curiosity had his honey eyes reading it intently, not remembering if he had ever used such papers.

Miguel’s emotions swirled around like a angry hurricane in him, it was ready to swallow him while as he let himself drown, refusing to crawl out again. But.. the simple words he read off the note in your messy teenage handwriting, caught his heart in your grip before he went under.

‘All is not lost, hold onto what still yours.’

He released the breath he was clinging onto, believing it’d be his last, and he clutched the paper tightly against his chest, over his heart. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he choked them away when he heard Lyla claim,

“She’s on her way in here Miggy, she finished her mission.”

He cleared his throat and huffed to himself, his heart wanting to see you again,

“Ok.. that’s fine.”

Not even a minute passed when he heard you skipping and humming the toon from earlier… and he couldn’t help but sing it himself, even if he didn’t remember all the words,

“all I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a little love in the mmm mmm... a lil’ but I hope it might kick start.. mm hmm mm hmm.”

———-

You had just walked in, when you heard the soft words being spoken with a rhythm, it was pretty good and calming.

Like a warm breeze on a cool day, it made a warm feeling seep into your chest as you embraced the peaceful atmosphere of it. You thought that it was perhaps one of the Spiderlings that was always singing around, for the voice was pretty smooth and came out like a low rumble, but it rocked your soul in a warm embrace.

You searched as you walked deeper into the lair, but it made you realized no one was around- not even Hobie Brown. It made you frown in confusion as to where it came from as you continued to hear the voice of what was deciphered to belong to a man, it made your heart swoon like when you danced in the rain or saw it puppy... it made you feel nice as it was your favorite song.

‘Sounds so beautiful...’

“all I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a lil’ mmmhm in the mmm mmm... a lil’ but I hope it might kick start.. mm hmm mm hmm.”

The last hum was a deep rumble from the heart out, it was like a sweet groan of a perfect motor that drove the perfect night drives. You've heard this comforting tone, though he never used it in a way to comfort others.. it was usually given when he was tired of someone or arguing. So it had clicked for you who it was, though it surprised you,

'Miguel.'

Quietly to not disturb him you swung up to his liar that was lifted high (which was usually like that when he didn't want to be bothered) but you just wanted to listen closely, not bother, so you were good right?

Once your feet touched the ground, you got a clear visual of him as you looked up to him, and your heart sunk. He was hunched over his desk, and in his hand he held onto the pink sticky not, holding on to it very tightly. The note appeared tiny in his hold, as his hands were larger than normal- not that it was bad of course ;)

His other hand delicately swiped the screens around as he looked at them all attentively. His face reflected off the screen, and you could see the most endearing, hearts took over the size of his pupils and he didn't look so dark as usual... pink practically covered his cheeks... even a soft smile made it on to his lips. A photo of him and you on a polaroid, the one you snapped while hanging off the Statue of Liberty that one evening.

You had on rare occasions seen Miguel’s sweet side, but that was only when he had a full tummy and was not being bothered by Hobie. But either way you cherished every part of him, he had become your father figure, with the harsh scoldings and comfortable silences. With the pat on the head or smacking your shoulder when the most ridiculous things came out of your mouth or actions- he meant the world to you.

As you drew closer, you remembered he didn’t have strong spider-senses, so you went with your gut, and let your intrusive thoughts win the best of you. Regardless of what he could do- it was Miguel.

Letting your hand extend towards him, you pushed on your wrists and webbed his back, hearing the web smack his brick-wall looking back, giggling when you heard him scowl nicely,

“What are you doing? I know it’s you Dulc- oh!”

You smiled to yourself and closed you eyes, sighing,

“I love you Miguel..”

You had pulled yourself against him, squeezing his waist tightly and leaning your head on his broad back- well like on his lower back, he was a giant compared to you. You could feel the way his muscles tensed as he sucked in a breath. It was like if he was afraid of touch- a strong, loving embrace, but slowly he let the air out from his lungs, and relaxed into you.. allowing himself to be loved and feel loved. His large hand rested on your little one, patting it gently, he then squeezed your hand and replied softly,

“I know you do Dulce... I know.”

His arm then came around behind him and grabbed onto the back of the collar of your suit, bringing you in front of him. You looked up to him right away, wanting to read him before he spoke, but you could hear his heart beat.. it was calm and steady, as he radiated peace and wore a small smile. Hope surged you as you mirrored his expression, a small ‘oof’ left your lips when he pressed the sticky note to your forehead, then pulled you in for a hug.

He cradled you close with his hands while you wrapped your arms around him once again, your head against his stomach this time, feeling his calm breathing an hearing his heart more clearly. It was the sound of home and undeniable peace. Miguel rested his hand on your head and the other reached your shoulders, where he pressed you closer to him.

You took in a deep breath and sighed happily, feeling safe and sound in him, knowing he was your safe haven and that he’d never let you go to be alone.

And Miguel smiled to himself, knowing he had you, confident that he would never let you slip away ever, and that you wouldn’t go either.. so with a tight squeeze he admitted,

“I love you too mija.” (Darling)

[pinkhoodi]

pop princess !

✎ᝰ — spider boys with a gf who’s a popstar !

♡⃕ — tasm!peter parker, ffh!peter parker x popstar!fem!reader

♡⃕ — genre + warning: fluff + peter is a major fan girl, mention of anxiety, failure, insecurity. lemme know if i missed anything !

♡⃕ — a/n: this includes andrew garfield and tom holland’s spiderman !

꒰ TASM!PETER PARKER ꒱

Ꮺ at first peter was doubtful of dating a pop star, especially being a simple nobody in his high school. just a boy with his camera but now he’s in front of the camera. don’t get me wrong, peter is more than thrilled to be dating you but he’s dating you. thee famous y/n, everyone’s favorite pop girl, star girl that has little girls dreaming

Ꮺ but also the lights, camera, the attention can be quite overwhelming and he will take a minute to adjust from all this. though, you won't always ask him to attend every event and he doesn’t mind attending attending every event so there

Ꮺ cause of his lowkey nature, you try to keep the relationship discreet. you would rather not have your fans swarm at peter’s door or harass him constantly at school

Ꮺ out in the public, you two would wear some type of covering so paparazzi or fans cannot tell who you both are

Ꮺ he’s try very very very hard to be your supportive boyfriend and attend every concert, every showing, every fan meet, any and everything. but being spiderman, and a high school student, he won’t always be at your hip at all times. If he can’t, he’ll send you a text that he won’t be there and send words of encouragement

Ꮺ during his duties as spiderman, if he’s not too busy, he’ll swing through the city until he reaches the venue of your concert. he’ll take a seating on the roof of it and sing along to your words, it’s not the best view but hey, it beats missing your girlfriend’s concert

Ꮺ on the roof, peter snaps some pictures of your concert and prints them off at home. he’ll hang them up on the wall above his desk, along with the many other cute pictures of just you

Ꮺ strangely enough, when you two are out on the red carpets, reporters ask about your views on spiderman. some even ship you with the masked vigilante and you just laugh it off

Ꮺ when you’re not around, he’ll sing some of your songs but definitely won’t tell you. he knows how much of a tease you can be and jokingly calls him your number one fan. of course, that title he won’t deny

Ꮺ whenever you’re at peter’s home, you play a cd of your unreleased songs or demos. you two would just sit and listen to them in peace or he’ll learn the lyrics to sing along. you always give him a copy of the cd before you go home

Ꮺ of course peter has backstage pass to your concerts so he’s usually chilling there until the show starts. he’s there to compliment your outfits, help you go over your setlist, and of course take many pictures of his beautiful pop princess

Ꮺ when things get overwhelming, you go to his home and just rant. you lay on his bed and just talk until you can’t no more, while peter sits and listens to you rant, he’ll rub your back or the top of your head. he would study how your body fluctuates as you vent, for future reference. he would silence sit in for a while than talk you through what is bothering you. whether it would be the lack of privacy, the expectations from fans, fear of failure, insecurities, etc., peter will advise well on how to handle them all. well, at least most of them

Ꮺ if the both of you are not too busy, you would bring him to your studio and show him your song-making process. it’s a very special and private place for you and why not show your loving, supportive boyfriend ?

Ꮺ he would ask questions here and there but for the rest of the time being, he’s quiet. peter would watch you write the lyrics and create a melody, he would watch you scribble and scratch in your journal as he sat across from you

Ꮺ if you appear to become frustrated, he silently hug you and asks if you want a break. he would take you on a walk, and ask more about the song to help you piece it together. sometimes you guys would stop for food, talk more about the song, and figure out what direction you wanted to go for

Ꮺ though, you don’t always have the energy to talk about songs so you would rather chat about your daily life. peter would update you on aunt may and you would tell him about your latest crazy fan experience

Ꮺ if he doesn’t have any advice, he will tell you words of encouragement. he would tell you how proud he is, how far you came, that you’re in control of who you are and not the public. he would remind you of the real you, the raw, organic y/n that he knows and loves. but also reminds me of how happy you look to be on stage or shooting in magazines as the world’s pop princess

Ꮺ speaking of, every shoot that you do for magazines, best believe peter would have every collection. sometime he’ll try to read it in class and some people speculated that he was a fan girl cause there’s no way that every issue always includes you on the front. that’s odd parker, very odd

꒰ PETER PARKER ꒱

Ꮺ your biggest, BIGGEST fan. he’s got all your merch, your cds, you’re his wallpaper. literally he couldn’t be more proud to the boyfriend of everyone’s pop girl, y/n l/n

Ꮺ peter is singing your songs, loudly and bad, posting your new song on his socials, the whole nine yards. I wouldn’t say he’s staying up to listen to your new song but he does learn the lyrics to impress you

Ꮺ I would say your relationship is discreet but not too lowkey ?? like ned and mj knows about the two of you but also you post peter from time to time. If not, then you two would usually hint about the relationship but not give too much information

Ꮺ on red carpet events, peter is recording you from the first step ‘til you hit inside the venue. he’s complimenting and hyping you up, fixing any small details like a loose lash or a small wrinkle on your dress

Ꮺ as bad of a fangirl he is for you, he might be even worse for other celebrities he meets. listen, he is a teenage boy from queens, did he expect to meet gwen stefani or rihanna ? rihannna ? he’s passed out on the floor at this point. if you see one of his favorite musicians, drag him the other way….

Ꮺ now, not all the time he can attend due to his school and his duties as spiderman. but he is sending words of encouragement to fulfill his presence

Ꮺ peter would be starstruck every time he’s out with you. no he’s still not used to being in your dressing room filled with priceless jewelry, clothes that must cost hundreds, and accessories that are so unique and made just for you to wear. it’s like he’s stepped into a popstar’s bubble and very scared to touch

Ꮺ I feel like peter would refuse to believe he’s dating thee pop girl, y/n. like he knows he’s dating you but has he accepted it? let’s just say he still pinches himself every time you text him, ya know, to make sure he’s not dreaming

Ꮺ whenever you’re at peter’s home, you play a cd of your unreleased songs or demos. you two would just sit and listen to them in peace or he’ll learn the lyrics to sing along. you always give him a copy of the cd before you go home

Ꮺ secretly peter has a playlist of just your songs and only your songs. he wouldn’t allow you to see since he would feel embarrassed but ned and mj are for sure teasing him about it

Ꮺ like the other peter, he would have every single issue of your magazine covers. he doesn’t care if they’re small articles of your latest look, he is reading it !

Ꮺ between class times, he would try to watch clips of your interview and blush over how cute you look. certain questions would have him a tad bit concerned but he knows you can handle it well

Ꮺ throughout the day, peter would ask if you’re doing okay, mentally and physically. he understands how draining it is to be well-known in the public eye, especially in the age of social media. If you say no, he’ll stop by your place and comfort you with what is bothering you. also, please don’t lie to him about how you’re feeling cause his spider senses will tell him

♡⃕ lately I’ve been listening to music from the 2000s and it makes me wish to be a pop girl in the 2000s saurrrrr bad. omg-

♡⃕ it doesn’t help that one of my fave shows was hannah montana. the pop princess FRRRR

♡⃕ ngl, tasm peter was VERYYYYY hannah montana coded. I’m sawry she’s like my pop girl inspo 😞

♡⃕ I felt like I kinda didn’t do my best with tom holland peter parker ngl 😭

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: romans 8:26

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟥 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

Finally! Meet my spidersona, SPIDERBEAT!

Here's Omari without the skirt

(Click for better quality)

Moodboard:

As always, feel free to ask questions about him. Likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated! And yes, you can draw them if you wish

Special thanks to @cherryvampiro for the tutorial and for giving me anough inspiration/confidence to finally draw her!

P.S Omari was originally going to be a girl, but then I wanted her to be a boy, then I thought...why not both?

I'll be adding more to this post (or I might do separate posts) so stay tuned!

Text (In case it was hard to see):

Omari Jewel Octavious is from earth 222A is Spiderbeats - A beat dropping, bars spitting, melodic singing, dress making, y2k sensation.

She's super optimistic and friendly, maybe a little sassy and snarky. Just think Poppy from trolls, Charlotte from princess and the frog, Veruca from Willy Wonka, Darla Dimple from "Cat's don't dance", and Bugs bunny. 

 Omari also has the ability to sing in two different tones, masculine and feminine. He started practicing at nine just for fun and now he uses his two different voices for singing and rapping. She also uses these tones whenever he is feeling masc or fem. 

Omari's parents are Olivia Octavious and Maxwell Dillon. Olivia is a scientist and Maxwell own's an Electric company. Omari also has an older brother named Marcus (19) who is studying to be a lawyer, and two younger twin siblings, Olivia (girl) and Micha (boy), who are both eight.

Right before omari was about to perform on stage he got bitten by a radioactive Orb Weaver Spider. (A CIA experiment lab was training spiders to act based on certain sounds. Over time, with a little biological adjusting, they started making webs that created music. Each strand had a different note attached to it and the spider would make sounds similar to songs they would hear the scientists play.) 

What makes him different?

The spider venom caused his brain  to change how he hears things. Giving him a version of MES “Musical ear syndrome” if you will. His brain now creates music in various ways and types.

When it comes to people he knows like family or friends she’ll hear their “theme song”. Basically just sounds/beats his mind makes up corresponding to the person's vibe. But the theme songs are always the same when it comes to a specific person, never changing. 

The theme songs are at a low velocity in the back of her mind like how we hear music in our brains but just a smidge louder. Villains also have a theme song of their own in her brain. But they are very loud, almost overwhelming (it works as a constant spidey-sense until the battle is over). The reason for this is because he’s going through an intense and frustrating moment so the music will be intense and frustrating in his mind. 

He can still hear regular music and even change it to her liking. She can add lyrics, switch lyrics to different songs, switch beats as well as even add and control different instruments. He can even speed it up or slow it down. 

She can make it stop but only if he manages to calm down and focus. Or if that doesn't work she'll use her headset. 

Why the headset?

Sometimes the noise becomes too much for him so the headphones are just noise cancellers. But they can also be used to drown out other noise so his spidey senses are the only thing she can hear/focus on. 

[datlokibumtho]

EDIT: I said I'd add more, and so I shall. I swear, the more I rewatch it, the more abserdity crosses my mind. I forgot some, so I'll add those when I remember them.

Rewatching the Mugen Train Arc, and there are a few things I noticed that I shall now share with you. I will add more as I think of them.

▪︎Rengoku's mom is hot

▪︎You will never be able to convince me we didn't see Akaza's O Face during that final attack.

▪︎Why didn't Akaza just drag Rengoku along with him to escape? All that oomf he has, and you're telling me one dude is too heavy? Nezuko can carry someone easily while in baby mode and was strong enough to curbstomp Daki, and you're telling me Akaza, Upper Three, the fourth most powerful demon in existence can't drag one guy along for the ride while bailing? I'm calling that shit hard.

▪︎Tanjirou's VA knocked this shit out of the park.

▪︎I call bullshit that Rengoku didn't activate his Demon Slayer Mark during all that.

¤ Edit: I now know why that didn't happen, so nevermind this one.

▪︎While we're on the topic of Rengoku, can I just briefly express my confusion as to his dream of choice when Enmu put him to sleep? Out of everything he could have dreamed, all the scenarios his mind could have conjured up, he chose "that one time I did something extraordinary and my dad didn't give a shit" followed by any given day of the week. Tanjirou got his family back, Zenitsu got to spend time with the girl he loved, Inosuke got to do whatever the fuck that was...and Rengoku's got an alcoholic father who doesn't give a hair on a witch's tit if his kids live or die, a mom that's still dead from illness, and last Tuesday, the Tuesday before that, and the Tuesday before that, also known as his everyday life. Why? He could have had a father that was a presentable human being again, a mother that wasn't dead or ill, a happy life...and he bypassed all of that. Just. Fucking. Why.

¤Edit: upon further thought and some amateur analysis of his psyche, the dream probably revolved more around time with his brother, or his boundless optimism making him think every day is a gift or worth celebrating or special somehow. Or maybe he just has a really bad imagination.

▪︎Rengoku just gave Enmu his first brush with heartburn.

▪︎Look up the lyrics to Homura by LiSA, and I believe you will join me in saying fuck whoever chose the music. Why they gotta do that? Why?

▪︎Get you a man that's an absolute goober, a total badass, a complete and utter derp, a major sweetheart, and a super serious hot mess all at once. Get you a Flame Hashira. Get you Rengoku Kyoujurou.

▪︎"I'm a box lunch vendor" wasn't suspicious until he said it wasn't suspicious. Then it became suspicious.

▪︎Rengoku moving his ass like "Total Consentrstion Fuck You I'm A Hashira" speed mode activated. "Ecceleration Mode", for anyone that's up on older anine.

▪︎Pigtails runnin' her way through Rengokus dream world like the edge isn't invisible and she was at zero risk of slamming face first into it.

▪︎God damn, Tanjirou, right between the man-titties. Rude as fuck.

▪︎Tanjirou: smells blood in a snow storm, Muzan in the middle of Tokyo, identifies people by their scents after only meeting them once, can smell character traits

Rengoku: two cars down from them, chowing away at bento, unnoticed

Zenitsu: hears thing down to a celluar level and can figure out what something's species and intent are based solely of of their sounds of existsnce

Rengoku: two cars down from them, practically yelling "tasty" repeatedly, unnoticed

Inosuke: has super insane instincts and the ability to lock onto things miles away

Renkgoku: STILL just two cars down from them, living his best life with a crapton of bento, unnoticed

Tanjirou/Zenitsu/Inosuke: "Wonder where the Flame Hashira is."

▪︎Slasher demon: "No one's faster than me!"

The Other Speedy Stripy Boi Of The Mugrn Train Arc: "Destructive Death: Kick-Your-Ass-Faster-Than-The-Speed-Of-Sound-You-Scrub Type."

▪︎Rengoku's Dream World: sunshine, daisies, and fatherly rejection

Rengoku's Subconscious: flaming hellscape

Enmu's Lackey: "What the flip flap fuck is going on with this man?"

▪︎Enmu: shocked Zenitsu did anything while under his spell

The rest of us: "Yeah, it was always gonna go that way, chief."

BONUS: ORIGINAL WATCHTHROUGH THOUGHTS

▪︎My thought process through my original watchthrough eons ago: "Rengoku is a silly mans. Rengoku is kinda cool. Rengoku is utterly endearing. Rengoku is awesome. Rengoku is one BAMF. RENGOKU IS DEAD."

▪︎My almost simultaneous thought process through my original watchthrough eons ago: "I can't believe he dies, he's so amazing and wonderful and i love him. Ok, he dies in this fight, and now that i know the man, i instantly hate whoever did it. Oh no, he's HOT! My emotions are very mixed right now. My emotions are completely decided in their stance, and I am getting teary-eyed over yet another ficticious character."

▪︎My afterthoughts of my original watchthrough eons ago: "Akaza is the absolute worst, that pretty face, hot body and smooth af voice cannot change that. Wow, Muzan was mean to him after he did his damndest. My opinion can not change now that I have seen Senjurou, he is a wonderful little cinnamonroll, and Akaza must remain the worst. He can be terrible and still look good. I mean, are he and his utterly whorish waist and very lovely, somewhat delicately featured face really to blame or is Muzan or psychosis of some kind? Wow, that's a nice hourglass physique and horribly tragic backstory."

▪︎End conclusion from my original watchthrough eons ago: "My opinion of Rengoku has done a 180. I would die for Senjurou. I will probably never truly like Rengoku Shinjurou despite understanding that grief and disillusionment do strange things to people. Akaza is too hot, broken, and in a weird way endearing and lovable to hate. I loves me a tragic backstory and damaged man. I DO NOT HAVE A NEW SHIP I DO NOT HAVE A NEW SHIP I DO NOT HAVE A NEW SHIP"

▪︎I had a new ship

[mrsshabana]

if you’ve already done this you can go ahead and delete this! could you do a fic where the reader doesn’t celebrate their birthday?

love your work btw! 💚

𝐆𝐲𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Today is actually the birthday of one of my very close friends! So I thought it'd be fitting to answer this request today. I hope you had an awesome birthday @chibi-absol ♡

Gyutaro never celebrates his birthday, but he is not going to let you get away with not celebrating yours. You are much too important for that.

He won't ask why you don't celebrate your birthday, he will just make the day special for you no matter how much you protest. It will be an intimate celebration though, with just the two of you and maybe his sister. He doesn't want anyone else to be there because he'll get jealous. He wants to be the only person making your day special.

He doesn't know a lot about birthday celebrations because quite frankly he never really cared for them, but he's going to try to make sure you have a memorable birthday.

This day is going to be all about you.

He won't let you lift a finger on your birthday, you will be treated like royalty.

And for your gift, he'll probably give you something handmade. He's not very crafty but he is going to work on your birthday gift for months in advance, making sure that it's absolutely perfect. And when he presents it to you you'll see all of the little flaws in it, but that just makes it all the more special. When you tell him that you love the gift he will feel genuinely proud of himself for the first time.

He's even going to sing happy birthday to you. His voice will be shaky as he does so, and his face will be red, but he tries his best. He's going to get some of the lyrics messed up because he's never sung it before.

He puts a ridiculous amount of effort into making your day special. It's actually quite surprising because he's not the type of person to care very much about sentimental things like this. But the fact that he tries so hard makes it obvious how much he loves you.

[yuzurujenn]

[2024.12.02] ESSE January 2025 Edition

New Year Special Interview Yuzuru Hanyu

The person who graces the cover of the New Year issue is figure skater Yuzuru Hanyu, who continues to challenge himself with new expressions even after turning professional. He shares a message to welcome a fulfilling year ahead.

“Entering his third year as a professional, he has become able to rely on those around him.”

Yuzuru Hanyu, heading towards the crimson-themed photo shoot set, picked up his smartphone and chose the background music for the shoot: the songs "Ryakudatsu" and "Last Ambient" by his close friend, Taisei Miyagawa, with whom he had previously collaborated in an ice show. The staff cheered as he moved his body gracefully, just as if he were performing in a real show.

Since starting his career as a professional in 2022, Hanyu has continued to take on unprecedented challenges, including becoming the first-ever skater to hold a solo show at Tokyo Dome and successfully completing a national tour. Now entering his third year as a professional, he shared, "I've become able to rely on the people around me."

"During my competitive days, there was pressure to carry the expectations of everyone and deliver results. But after getting involved in directing and planning shows as a professional, I’ve been able to expand my world by leveraging the expertise of professionals in various fields. I guess that’s a sign I’ve grown up (laughs). Because I’ve learned to cherish the people around me, I feel like I’m also able to take better care of myself."

"I believe that an athlete is someone who pushes themselves to their limits."

His current challenge is how to create the world of his national tour "Echoes of Life," which will take place from the end of this year into next year.

"I’m nervous about how the upcoming show will be received, but right now, I just want to get better at skating (laughs). Depending on the program, the way I use my stamina changes, so I need to figure out how to manage it this time, and I also need to create the choreography... Right now, I’m in the most intense, tight situation."

The ice shows Hanyu has been involved with since turning professional have all been physically and technically demanding.

"The structure is such that after the show, I’m often so exhausted I can’t stand, so it's hard every time. Actually, I saw something on SNS today that said: 'Even if you can run 10 meters per second, you shouldn’t think you can run a full marathon at the same speed.' I thought that’s true... but I’m the type who tries to run a full marathon at 9.5 meters per second (laughs). But I believe that pushing yourself to the limit is what makes an athlete, and if you compromise, it can't be called art."

 "It's important to acknowledge your own hard work."

Yuzuru Hanyu, who is pursuing his potential even more stoically than during his competitive years, has put in an unimaginable amount of effort behind the scenes.

"But I don't think it's just me; everyone is doing their best in their own places. I have dreams to pursue and a stage to perform on in front of people, so I'm giving it my all, using up all my lung capacity... But even if someone's way of using energy is more subtle or long-lasting, I believe that’s their own form of giving their all. We live in a world where it’s hard to understand the meaning of our existence right now. That’s why, rather than comparing themselves to others, I want everyone to recognize the efforts they've put in and acknowledge their own hard work."

In his 25 years of skating, Hanyu has sometimes felt discouraged, but he has always managed to pick himself up and move forward. One of the keys to maintaining a positive mindset is "falling into despair to the fullest."

"I believe that if you don't half-heartedly suppress your feelings and just let yourself hit rock bottom, a chance to find hope will eventually come. That could be a phrase from a podcast you happened to hear or lyrics from a song playing on the street. I’d be happy if it came from my performance too. But that kind of opportunity doesn’t come just by waiting for it. No matter how down I feel, I make sure not to stop reaching out so I can grab the chance when it comes."

“Nabe and ozoni with ponzu sauce are wintertime delights.”

The performance of "Echoes of Life" is coming up early in 2025, but will there be time to enjoy New Year's food?

"I love ozoni. Ours is soy sauce-based, with chicken, seri (Japanese parsley), and shredded daikon radish and carrots called 'ohikina,' topped with ikura (salmon roe). In the winter, we often eat nabe (hot pot) as well. I'm not good at eating a lot of raw vegetables, so nabe is perfect because I can get plenty of cooked vegetables. It's also easy to make. I like to eat it with a refreshing ponzu sauce."

The first day of the tour, December 7, is also Hanyu’s 30th birthday. When he was a teenager, he thought, "People in their 30s are old," but does he have any habits that help him stay youthful, contrary to those words?

"Keep seeking freshness in both hobbies and work. This is something I've been conscious of since my competitive days, as there is data showing that people are more likely to focus better on new things. For example, in beauty, instead of applying lotion out of habit, I believe that if you learn new knowledge about the right temperature or method of application, it can motivate you. I think accumulating such experiences helps you stay youthful."

Hanyu is constantly evolving. We can't wait to see what new frontiers he will show in 2025.

Source: ESSE January 2025 Special Edition, pg 71-73 https://esse-online.jp/articles/-/30880 Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B0DG5GJCC7

[jonathantaylorthomas]

ED: People are saying they're inspired to shoot their shot with their crush because of Travis. Recently, you said you’re happy he shot for the stars. How do you feel about him having this impact?

DK: It’s awesome. You’re never going to achieve your dreams, do what you want, or find that person that you really care about unless you open up and you’re vulnerable. And it’s so important to try to find that person or find that career that you really want. You’re not going to get it if you never ask for it.

When I was at work, women would come up to me and ask me, “What’s the one piece of advice you could give me to become a vice president in a bank?” And I said, “If you want something, ask for it. Don’t expect anyone to ever give it to you. You have to let them know that that’s what you want.” And that’s what he basically does.

ED: Do you have any advice for shooting your shot?

DK: If you truly believe that you can be who you want to be in life, I think it’s important that you persevere because perseverance and hard work trumps talent any day.

ED: Similarly, Drew Barrymore said she was re-inspired by how much Travis and Taylor are putting their romance out there in public — like Taylor changing her song lyrics to “Karma” to reference him. What do you think about that?

DK: They’re telling their story how they want to, and I think that’s important to let them do that.

ED: What’s your advice for dealing with being in the public eye?

DK: Be yourself. Don’t try to put on any airs. Just be who you are, and I think people can relate to you.

ED: You previously said you loved the Eras tour movie. What did you love about it?

DK: I’ve listened to a different genre my whole life. So I went to the movie to find out what it was all about and how important it was for me to understand the type of music that she sang. What inspired me was that it was very artistic. She’s just amazing. As an entertainer, she can command an entire stadium, and she can reach out and make them feel like they’re special. And I think that’s a special person that can do that.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Love Changed the Minds of Pretenders

Pairing ▹ Bucky Barnes x gn. reader

Word Count ▹ 1k

This fic contains ▹ angst, fluff, songfic, unestablished relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of Joaquin x reader, mutual ending of relationship, light beta reading (even though there are no explicit mentions of adult themes, I do not want minors or blank blogs interacting with this fic)

Summary ▹ Do you remember | The 21st night of September?

Notes ▹ I should be asleep right now because I have work at 7am but I just had a random burst of creativity and I needed to let it out. Anyways, this is my submission for @bucks-and-noble Summer Send Off. Thank you @buckets-and-trees and @sgt-seabass for creating this challenge and refueling my love for Bucky. And a special shoutout to the book club! I am so happy I met y'all and I am beyond grateful for the bond we have created 💖 Fun fact: This is my first ever Bucky fic woop woop!! Remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed! 😊

Prompt ▹ use a lyric [from September by Earth Wind and Fire] as direct inspiration for a theme/idea

September 21, 2022. 10:02 pm.

The night you met Bucky Barnes. 

Of all places, you met Bucky at a bar. The same bar where your friend performed their first live show and they invited you to watch. You weren’t expecting to meet anyone that night. Your heart had been broken only a few weeks prior. 

Everyone thought: Was he a rebound? A distraction?

No. He was so much more than that. It could have been easy to feel that way fresh out of heartbreak. Even more so when outsiders were constantly questioning what you and Bucky really were. But there was clearly a reason Bucky showed up in your life after this period of hurting. 

Bucky gave you love and security. He made you feel safe when he took you to the movies, when he made love to you, when you slept peacefully in his strong arms. You always thanked him for the things he did to make you feel secure and loved. He’d reply with his typical phrase, “I’m glad I make you feel that way.” 

He welcomed you into his home, his life, and his heart after many years of keeping the door locked and the key tucked away. Waking up and stroking your face before pressing a kiss to your dry lips was something that made your love for him stronger. Then after an hour or so of getting tangled between the sheets, you both would jump in the shower, gently caressing one another with soapy hands. Breakfast with Bucky was another tender ritual that you cherished. Whether it was at 10 in the morning or 1 in the afternoon, you never skipped breakfast with him.

He challenged your negative thoughts and beliefs. You and Bucky would stay on the phone until 3 in the morning talking about the universe, aliens, and other conspiracy theories. The two of you would ponder on the purpose of your lives and the ways of the universe. One thing you both were certain about was that you wanted your lives to be fulfilling and meaningful. Your world expanded and bloomed with beauty and wonder because of him. You wanted to be better and so did he.

Bucky made you believe in love again. And you made Bucky believe in love again.

As the months passed, everything was splendid. Perfect, even. But with perfection, there’s always something lacking. Of course, you wouldn’t have seen what was lacking if it slapped you in the face.

After 10 months of dating Bucky, you finally revealed your love for him. Now, Bucky wasn’t the type to say it. Heck, he didn’t even say “I love you” to his sister unless she said it first. Yet that wasn’t a deal breaker because he expressed his love in other ways. 

“I love you, too. I know your feelings for me are strong, but I don’t know if I can give you what you want.” 

It was understandable. He did mention in the beginning that he wanted to casually date. You forgot that you wanted the same thing. Man that felt like such a long time ago. Time really does fly when you start to fall in love. And hard you fell.

You hid your disappointment by making more excuses as to why being committed to Bucky would not be in the cards. First, there was the long distance. Then, there was the uncertainty about both of your futures. For a couple that talked a lot about your ambitions, you both lacked the confidence in where you would go in life. As the list of reasons piled up, there was one that made your brain fuzzy and your heart swell.

That reason was Joaquin Torres.

You met Joaquin through your cousin. There was an instant attraction between the two of you yet neither of you pursued each other. If you had gone for Joaquin, you would not have created the world you had with Bucky. So when your feelings for Joaquin grew stronger than your feelings for Bucky, you knew you had to take action before someone got hurt. 

Contrary to your belief, no one got hurt. You were transparent with Joaquin about your status with Bucky, and he understood. When you revealed to Bucky your feelings for Joaquin, he too understood. 

“Listen, angel, I know you. You know what you want in your life and you don’t let anything get in the way of that. I do love you, but who am I to stand in the way of living the life you want. You’ve let people tell you how to live your life for so long and now it’s my turn to stop that cycle. If this is what you want, don’t let me stop you.”

You and Bucky shared beautiful memories over the 10 months of being together, but the words he said to you on August 8, 2023 will always be ingrained in your brain for the rest of your life. That night was the last time you spoke to him and saw his face, even though it was over a video call.

“I’m grateful for having you in my life,” you confessed to him, trying not to cry. You couldn’t figure out if it was because you were surprised this conversation went way better than you thought or because you were saying goodbye.

Bucky grinned, “No need to get all sappy on me, angel.” You shared a final laugh together. “Well, if you ever find yourself in the city, you know where to find me.”

Part of you wanted to make a joke about how you’d run into him at the bar where you met, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you replied:

“You got it, Buck.”

And that marked the end of you and Bucky. 

You and Bucky’s love was never meant to fail. Yet it was never meant to succeed. Perhaps it was just meant to simply exist. 

But who knows, maybe that fateful night in August was not the end. Only time could tell. That was the beauty of time and the universe. You can plan and make certain choices, but ultimately, the universe will lead you to where you’re meant to be.

Now, it’s September 21, 2023. No, Bucky is not in the picture, but your thoughts are with him. 

Do you remember? Yes, you remember. You always will.

Navigation | Fanfic Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[chelledoggo]

My Analysis of "Lazarus Drug" by Meg Washington, and how it pertains to Bluey's "The Sign" [MASSIVE BLUEY SPOILERS]

(This post is going to deviate from my typical "all lowercase" typing style because I kinda want it to be taken seriously lol.)

So, I was doing some dishes earlier, and I started thinking about the song "Lazarus Drug" by Meg Washington. I started mulling over the lyrics and thinking about how it was used at the ending of the Bluey special "The Sign." The wheels kinda started turning and I felt compelled to attempt to present my interpretation and the thoughts I have about it.

Now, I'm not a music theorist or a seasoned philosopher or TV critic. I'm just about as much of a layperson as one can be. I'm just kinda calling things as I see them.

Although only the final portion of the song was used in The Sign, I wanna go over the full version of the song to give a better understanding of what all the pieces mean put together.

This probably won't be a play-by-play of every lyric (because I'm not that smart lol), but I'll do my best to get the point across.

Let's begin!

[MASSIVE BLUEY SPOILERS BEGIN BELOW THE CUT]

I am asleep, I am a slug I am a thief, I am a thug

The first lines of the song give the impression that the singer perceives herself as an impure person. She seems to bring attention to her vices of focusing too much on the self to the point where it could potentially hurt others.

You are grace, you are belief You are a Lazarus drug

This is where the song title comes in, and this section in particular is clearly very heavy on Biblical imagery.

Lazarus was a figure in the Bible, specifically the Gospel of John (John 11:1-45). He died of illness and had been in the tomb for four days. Jesus loved Lazarus so much, that he had wept upon the confirmation of his death. He then went to the tomb where Lazarus lie and resurrected him.

Note how the singer refers to the subject as a "Lazarus drug." When you think of a drug, you think either of something meant to treat an illness, or something meant to give someone a high. However, in this case, I think it's both.

Meg Washington said the following in an interview with ABC's (Australia) Double J radio station:

"'Lazarus Drug' is a song about love and euphoria and revival. It's really just an ode to whatever it is in your life – or my life – that makes you feel like rising up and floating in the middle of the air and splitting into light beams of happiness. "Writing this song was really special for me, because every time I sing it I feel the same way that I felt when I wrote it. I really wanted to make something that sounded like how we can make each other feel if we try very hard to share love."

The subject of the song is a loving, caring figure. You could even argue that they are a Christlike figure. The love and compassion that they extend to the singer not only heals their pain, but makes them feel high, as illustrated in these lyrics a few lines later.

And when you make A perfect circle in the sky I get so high I get so high I'm like a planet And I can't come down Oh, I can't come down

The next verse begins like this:

You are an angel And when you weep, the heavens rain I am a mermaid, eating at the sushi train

The "mermaid at the sushi train" metaphor is kind of up in the air, but I believe it might once again be highlighting the singer's selfishness.

Like, why would a mermaid be eating sushi? Why would she be eating her little fishy friends? Like imagine if Ariel was advertising frozen fishsticks... Oh wait...

It seems like a metaphor for thinking more about your own hunger rather than the needs of those you're meant to care for.

We sort of see this in both Bandit and Rad's subplots in "The Sign."

Bandit gets this high-paying new job in another city. He's going to have to uproot his family's life and take them away from the people they love and care about in Brisbane. However, Bandit doesn't really seem to consider too much how this might emotionally affect Bluey and Bingo. The way he sees it, he's doing the right thing. He believes he's guaranteeing a bright and comfy future for the Heeler family. He means well, of course. But in this case he's being so short-sighted that he doesn't seem to really take his family's feelings into account.

Likewise, Rad plans to move himself and Frisky out west after their wedding... Except that he didn't bother bringing this up to Frisky herself. His motives were arguably even more self-centered and short-sighted. He didn't bother asking Frisky how uprooting her own life would affect her. He just... assumed he could just smooth it over after the wedding. (I love you Rad, but... dick move, man. Dick move.)

But when you look in me With language in your eyes I get so high I get so high I'm like a planet And I can't come down

When the singer stops and looks at the subject, gazing into her eyes without needing to say a word, that "Lazarus drug high" comes back. She realizes that she's not in it alone. That there's people around her that love her and care for her, and they matter just as much as she does.

When Rad finally catches up to Frisky at the Lookout, they have this moment:

Now at surface level "I know you like it here" could just be referring to the Lookout, since it's one of Frisky's favorite places. But on a deeper level, I think we can tell what this really means. It's referring to Brisbane. You can even see the city in the background here.

Rad finally wakes up and realizes how much Frisky's home means to her. Neither one of them has to say a word about Brisbane for us to know that Rad's had a change of heart about moving. The way they look at each other during this scene speaks volumes.

Likewise, there's... the moment.

Moving day.

I feel it in the morning I feel how low it lies And then I hear you calling And then I start to rise I feel it in the morning I feel how low it lies And then I hear you call my name And then I start to rise

The Heeler house is all packed up in boxes, and the family is getting into the car to leave their driveway for the final time.

But just as Bandit's about to get in the driver's seat, he stops to answer a call from Bucky, letting him know that the Sheepdogs decided at the last minute not to buy the Heeler house.

After the call ends, Bandit walks over to peel the "SOLD" sticker off the "For Sale" sign.

He then gazes back at his family waiting in the car. No words are exchanged. He just takes a moment to look into their eyes. He's reflecting on what this move will mean for them. He remembers all the sorrow Bluey and Bingo endured over the revelation.

And suddenly his eyes are opened to what really matters...

And when I hear you calling Like you were always there I rise until I'm hanging In the middle of the air

He grabs hold of the sign, pulling it with the strength of two Bandits.

And when I hear you calling I split like I'm a snake With golden light like fingers And then I start to break Into a billion pieces

And...

...YEET.

Oh, I shatter into constellations Like I've never been more here Like I completely disappear

The ego shatters. Bandit foregoes the self and realizes his oneness with his family. That they all matter. That what they have in Brisbane is beautiful.

Sure, he could assure himself a cushy high-paying job and ensure a "comfy" life for his family.

But his family was already comfortable. More than comfortable, even.

His preconceived notions of what a "good life" could be disappear, because he knows they already have a good life.

I'm nothingness, but shining And everywhere at once I'm everything and everyone who is or ever was

Now this line is particularly interesting to me.

In eastern spirituality, especially Buddhism, there's a concept of "emptiness." Basically nothing and no one exists purely in and of itself. "Everything and everyone who is or ever was" exists because of interconnections through other factors. There's no inherent "thing" or "self." We're all one.

The words "emptiness" and "nothingness" in our western mindset seems to denote a feeling of despair and sadness. I think this is why Meg chose to word it as "nothingness, but shining." In the eastern mindset, "nothingness" is something that is shining and beautiful. It's not a sense of loneliness, rather a sense that you are not alone.

Bluey isn't a stranger to incorporating eastern spiritual thought into its episodes. Probably the most famous example is the episode "Bumpy and the Wise Old Wolfhound," which is loosely based off the Buddhist story of Kisa Gotami. The episode "Hide and Seek" alludes to the practice of mindfulness meditation, which is a practice rooted in eastern traditions. You could even argue that the episode "Slide" has themes of Ahimsa, the eastern principle of nonviolence and not causing harm to other living things.

Even "The Sign" incorporates the Taoist parable of the Farmer, which teaches about accepting the unexpected of life, and not labelling anything as "fortunate" or "unfortunate."

I also personally see themes of the aforementioned principle of interconnectedness. The whole episode is basically a literal "butterfly effect." Every little thing, from Frisky leaving the wedding and the Heelers going to look for her, to Flappy (who originally appeared in "Slide." Oh wow, this goes deep!) flying into the Heelers' car, to Bluey finding a lucky coin, only for it to get stuck in the binoculars that the Sheepdogs later use to spot their new dream house... it all leads up to the ending.

The ending in and of itself can't really be labelled as a perfect happy ending, either. Bandit can no longer accept his new job, and will probably need to find new work in Brisbane. How will it go?

"We'll see."

And You're nothingness, but shining And everywhere at once You're everything, we're everyone who is or ever was, forever

The final lines are just a pronoun switch of the ones before them. This could be interpreted in multiple ways. The singer could be addressing the subject of the song, but she could also be addressing the listener.

The song ends on a reminder that we're all connected. We're affected by the circumstances we face, including the love we're shown by others. Likewise, the love we show others affects them and those around them.

Isn't that kind of one of the overarching messages of Bluey as a whole? How we treat others - our friends, our families, our children - goes a long, long way.

...

WHOO. That ended up being more of a ramble than I thought.

Anyway, I'm just calling this as I personally see it from my silly overthinking layperson perspective. You shouldn't by any means take what I say as gospel, but I do hope I've at least given you something to think about.

And, of course, feel free to share your own interpretations!

If you've made it to the end of this massive skyscraper of text, thank you so, so much. I love you. 💖