#although actually the core memory that made me want to write that song is my dad calling me a monster when i was like ten | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oonajaeadira · 3 years

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If You Will Let My Heaven Touch Your Stars (Ezra x f!reader)

Rating: Mature.

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFY SMUT. INSPIRED BY THIS. Non-explicit oral (m and f receiving). Formatting may be strange in certain Tumblr themes due to paragraph spacing with the poetry.

A/N: Okay, y’all. I was looking for another reason to write some Ezra. I got inspired by this naughty confessional post and felt the need to rise to the challenge, but make it a bit soft. You know I’m allergic to writing physical doings without some emotional yearnings. So it has come to this. And I’m not sorry.

Summary: Ezra runs his mouth over some poetry. You run your mouth over some Ezra.

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MASTERLIST

_______________________________

You know that sigh. It will be shortly followed by a gravelly, dissatisfied “hm.”

“Hm.”

Next will come the impatient flipping of pages as Ezra learns that the book he’s chosen from the stack he got in trade on the Pug is…”less than literary and more than malignant.”

“What’cha reading, Ez.” The main node on the electropulse generator blew during the last harvest and you’ve been doing your best to repair it for the better part of the scaling period. Better to keep eyes on the electrics than let them wander over to his bedroll where he’s stripped to his skivvies, propped up against a crate, reading.

The rotation of Ranakh-4 is almost sixty hours, and in the north hemisphere there’s always light. Should be perfect for prospectors to take shifts and get things done, but instead, it creates a scaling period--a good fifteen-hour window of intense heat and sunlight that’s too dangerous to be exposed to for long, causing lots of nasty side effects. Including skin scaling. Hence the name. So during that period you and Ezra hide in the cooled tent, sleeping, polishing gems, maintaining equipment, wasting time, and generally trying not to annoy each other too much.

That’s a joke between you. In the years you’ve known him, Ez has yet to get under your skin. Ezra’s usually up for a game of dice or five-stand during scaling period, and if you’ve got gear to clean or inventory to count, he’s good for a story. Or ten.

But after the third rotation he stopped playing games of chance with you and his stories got gradually less... crusty. He still had a lot to say, but he stuck mostly to mining anecdotes, weaving around salacious details and editing himself in the moment.

And you’re pretty sure you know why.

This isn’t the first posting you’ve had with Ezra.

There was the assignment on Phintreas. The job on TG-19. The second assignment on Phintreas--that one it was just the two of you. Just like this one.

There was a moment near the end of that run when you took a break from digging to stretch, arching your back in the dappled sunlight and pulling your arms up and back toward the thick foliage tops. There were singing insectoid creatures on Phintreas and you’d dropped your wrists to your head to listen to their song a little, closing your eyes and hearing in their hum the chords of a song you used to love.

It was just a few seconds, the warm air on your bare shoulders, the long thin trees--actually large grass--rising and swaying above. A pleasant stretch in your lower back. But there was something off. Your ears were full of insect song but there was something missing.

The sound of Ezra’s digging had stopped.

You turned to find him taking a break, leaning on his shovel, jumpsuit open and pulled down to a knot at his waist like yours. Dirt-streaked arms and undershirt, looking at you, staring with sad eyes, the long slopes of his mustache running into his patchy beard making him look like he was pouting more than he was. Probably. Totally lost in thought, his eyes slid down your torso. When he woke to the fact that you caught him using you as a backdrop for reverie, he didn’t even have the balls to be embarrassed. Just realigned his focus on his shovel and went back to digging, the veins straining out on his big hands.

“You okay, Ez?”

“As well as one can be, sweetheart. I feel we’re close. It is a fine day full of wonderments.”

You’d thought about that look in the days afterward. Didn’t really know what it meant for you. Until the final sleep cycle on that grass planet, the wind traveling through the fields making the grasses sing hollow and low in the night.

“What’cha reading, Ez?” You’d come to learn that it was a magic question, one that not only got you an explanation, but perhaps a chapter or two in his baritone twang.

And that night, as you packed your final bag, he swung the spine around to read out, “Papas Cordel, Love Verses.”

He didn’t ask you if you wanted to hear any. He just started to read.

Softly. Slowly. The words were innocuous on their own but their combination was sinful, his voice melting at the back of your brain, lifting the fine hairs of your neck, slithering down your spine before making an orbit to press upon your core and vibrate there.

He never said goodnight. Just read you a few poems full of worship and yearning in that sonorous voice of his, then rolled over and went to sleep. It left you in a panic, trying to control your breathing, in full understanding of what that look from a few days ago had really meant.

And for the duration of your next couple of jobs you spent some time in regret, wishing you’d decoded your feelings sooner or that he’d made his own clearer. You’d vowed that if you ever had the chance to go back and live that night again you wouldn’t hesitate to….what? To do what? You never got that far. Didn’t matter. Time doesn’t go backwards. After a while, it was easy enough to convince yourself that you’d just read too much into it, that you didn’t really feel anything and neither did Ez. He had just been tired and staring into space that day. And he’d just been aesthetically moved by the song of the grasses in the night wind. It was a trick of the light, and the more you rationalized it, the further the memory slipped into the realm of silly fantasy.

So when this assignment came, you’d had time enough to leave the fantasy behind and met Ezra as you always had--as a friend and a damn talented prospector you were happy to dig with. The man always got his haul and getting paired with him always meant profit.

It only took one scaling period to make you realize you were lying to yourself.

Scaling period means getting somewhere shaded and cooled and making yourself as comfortable as possible. Which means stripping down to essentials. All those dice games trying not to look at Ezra’s broad, bared chest, looking up from a hand of cards to find his eyes quickly darting away from you…. By the third rotation you’d noticed that neither of you could make eye contact with the other anymore and after that, Ezra generally spent his downtime during scaling periods laying on his bedroll in his skivvs, reading one of the dozen books he’d scavenged back on the station.

You weren’t sure if you were flattered or embarrassed or even injured that he wouldn’t move on whatever he was tense about. But, ultimately, this arrangement was easier.

Or so you lied to yourself.

A “what’cha reading, Ez” got you a few chapters of an old time-travel adventure or a philosophical treatise on the life of some forgotten pioneer while you mended a garment or recounted the supply of viable drill bits or tried to fix the damn faulty electropulse generator for the millionth time. Something rollicking and full of resonance to keep your ears busy and your mind distracted while you focused your eyes on anything but Ezra’s bronze skin and sable eyes and full lips and big hands and thick thighs and--

This time he clicks his tongue and runs a hand through his hair, humming a high note in a kind of frustrated laugh. “I won’t devastate your ears on this one, sweetheart. Not much of interest here but some poor soul ruttin’ and scraping for talent that eludes them. How this found its way into a thing to be bought and sold I will never understand.”

And yet, he keeps reading. Silently.

After a few minutes and another wire successfully cleaned and reconnected, you repeat yourself, taunting him.

“What’cha reading, Ez.”

“Mm.” He just flips through a few more pages, refusing to answer.

“Hey.” You chuckle into your work. “What’cha reading.”

You hear a huge intake of breath before a hold and a forced release.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Fine. Don’t waste breath on it. Just tell me which one it is so I can avoid it later.”

“Love and other Stars by Aeon Aido Raja.”

“I see. What’s it about?”

“Sadly, it is about a poet who cannot seem to make the match between words and sentiment; a volume of supposed amorous verse.”

“Amorous verse,” your hands stop working on their own. “Love...poetry?” There’s a sudden flashback to the sound of hollow reeds and soothing verses in the night. The words are a program in your brain, overwriting your inhibition and professionalism, pushing you to a deeply-coded goal to calm the flutter in your chest.

“So it claims. Although I fear it lacks full understanding of both--” His voice cuts out as he realizes you’ve stood and you’re moving toward him and his wide eyes lock to yours as you sit beside him on the bedroll. “Now what has gotten into you, sweetheart?”

You know exactly what’s gotten into you. The triggered wish of returning to that night, the built-up tension of dancing around each other in your underwear, trying to deny what’s going on, watching him purposefully respect you when you know he feels something, when he knows you do too--

What was it you were going to do if you had a chance to go back to that last night on the grass planet? Time to find out.

“Read to me.”

Ezra hesitates, unsure. “This?”

“Read it.”

His eyes flick down to follow the quick fold of your lips as you wet them with your tongue, unconsciously mimicking you, before fumbling his gaze back to the book and, with a regretful sigh, begins.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

When he looks for your reaction, you’re not sure if he’s pleading with you for permission to stop or continue.

Shit. He’s right. It isn’t great. But you’re here now, you’re going to make the most of it.

“That’s not...so bad.” And then you find out what you would have done that night--or at least how you’d start--by showing him your raised palm, lowering it slowly toward him. “Tell me if you want me to stop.” Your hand travels down through the air, just to the inch above his skivvs, waiting a moment in the aura of radiated heat there, before settling lightly over him. He never says no, never takes his eyes from yours, the only reaction coming from a small lift in his chest, the corner of his mouth curling just a fraction, and the fabric beneath your hand quickly becoming the only thing there to qualify as soft.

“Sweetheart, what you’re beginning here--”

“The only words I want from you are that poem. I want to hear you read. You stop, I stop.”

The heat hangs heavy between you, burns beneath your hand. And with a huffed exhale, Ezra starts again.

“I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--

“Walking through the light of a moon in decline-- Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

Supporting him from underneath, you’ve begun running your thumb up and down him, and his breath hitches, bringing him to a stop. So you stop.

“You stop, I stop, Ez.”

“Believe me, gentle one, I do not wish the impediment of your affections--”

“Then don’t stop.”

In a beautiful panic, Ezra looks back to the poem. “You sure you want this one?”

You nod. “I don’t care how good it is. That’s the poem I want. Keep going. I've always liked your voice. I know you can make it pretty.”

He stares at the page a moment, and you push him--literally--gasping into a start.

“If ever I could tell you When my heaven touched your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

You stop palming him when he stops to breathe, and it’s only when you trace his waistband with your fingertips that he swallows and continues, willing you to keep going--

“Waking in the night to the aching void of your embrace-- Can you forgive me if I plead your name? If I summon you to my body from wherever you are?”

Whether it’s the want in his voice or just getting further into the words, the poem is already getting better. His eyebrows begin to push together and arch, as you stretch the top of his underwear down, wrapping your hand around him. His words start riding the occasional groan which just resonate with you more and you rock yourself against the bedroll in time with your gentle, yearning pulls--

“You hold me adroitly With accurate proximity To keep your breath and my breath Two founts and one pool. To swim a in star-reflective stream of our holy recreation--”

He’s doing so well, the words wandering out deep and breathy, so beautifully controlled...until you lower your mouth to him.

Then there’s a strangled staccato grunt as he adjusts, takes a couple of quick breaths and continues--

“But your body is a.....wildfire Your lips a destruction And I give my everything over to your….cleansing devastation.”

Oh, his struggle is glorious. You can feel him trying not to buck, needing to blow out a breath between pursed lips here and there to concentrate on the print. He reads with intent, leaning into context and feeling, making a gift to you of every word.

“I have yearned for you to find me worthy of a spark An ignition... The rebirth of your combustible attentions.”

He pauses again to breathe, and while you allow him a small reprieve, he’s stopped a little too long and you abruptly halt. When you pull back to look up in reprimand, he gives you a soft smile through his panting, shaking his head in wonder. You know he’ll have plenty of praises when this is over, but he doesn’t seem to want to break the spell to say them now. When you return his little smile, he looks back to the page and continues, prompting you to return to your own administrations.

“How you draw from me each sweet effusion-- Every secret vein untapped-- Now yours in expert execution, Now open to your burning maw.”

He pushes through the poetry rather than into you, allowing you to hear him and match him. Your body begins to counter-react as you feel him brimming, turning on more need in you than you’ve felt in a while, and you show him just how well he’s doing by doing well by him.

There’s a shift in his voice as more breath enters in and nonverbal noises begin to punctuate the words; a shift in his body as his fingers tangle in your hair and grip tightly, suggesting a final rhythm--

“But within the fire An aperture of...divine precipitation Where those of us who live untouched Can go to drown To die To howl…..! To see the blessed face of eternity Or the….busting open….of a thousand….wretched….stars-- You-call-me-to-sinful-prayer You-invoke-my-abject-soul I find myself in debt…!...and thrall…!... to your superior…!...divinity--”

When he stops reading this round, you show mercy as he pounds his fist into the bedroll and makes his own additions to the poem, exclamations made up of your name and curses and calls to higher powers. You can only expect a man to expel from himself wondrously one method at a time, and Ezra’s earned his reward so beautifully.

Damn his opinion. The poem was perfect. You chose correctly. Either that, or Ez’s tongue really can spin any old refuse into gold.

But the book is still held high, and as you lift from him and guide him through his aftershocks with your hand, he breathes heavy though the final verse--

“This is how I love you from afar With agony and forlorn words While you hover forever in my purview A shaft of dazzling incandescence Shining down from your sun/star Through the glass of my desire Starts and restarts an everlasting blaze”

Then, setting the book reverently on the bedroll, he takes your face in his hands, dragging his thumbs across your lips, no longer needing the page for the last lines.

“If ever I could tell you And if you will let my heaven touch your stars If ever I could tell you Beloved--”

Ezra’s kiss is achingly grateful. He tries to put into one kiss the loving equivalent of everything you’ve just done for him.

When he pulls back, he gives you the tiniest rough shake, a punctuation of his playful consternation. “Mmm,” he grunts. “While I am glad to know you find my recitals pleasing, you’re about to find out that my talent for oral ministrations do not stop at mere recitation.” With a miner’s strong arms he flips you over him onto the bedroll, making short work of your underwear and pinning your legs around his shoulders in a matter of seconds. “Now, I will not be so cruel as to make you put words to my reciprocation, unless you’d like to fill the silence to direct me to your will. Or say what you please. I will not be able to add to the conversation as I will be otherwise occupied.”

You don’t know if it’s years of running his mouth or wagging his tongue or yapping his jaw, but he’s well practiced in using allllll the muscles therein to help finish what poetry couldn’t quite accomplish.

At one point you think of surprising him and trying your own hand at reading while being entertained. But when you fumble for the book, it opens to the same poem.

But not the same poem.

The opening lines are there: “I have never told you When your lips found my own I have never told you My dearest--Walking through the light of a moon in decline--Can you blame me if I steal your kiss? If I call you to my side before it collides with the ground?”

And that’s it.

That’s where it ends. The whole published poem--a mere seven lines.

Oh, Kevva. That’s...that means….

Damn, Ezra. The mouth on you.

The book drops to the bedroll.

And you break into pieces as his heaven masterfully consumes your stars.

________________

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Taglist: @melobee @extraterrestrialdork @14mcmd1122 @grogusmum @cannedsoupsucks

#soft ezra #soft!ezra #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #fluffy smut #pedro pascal #ezra prospect smut

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bukojuiice · 3 years

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— the kinds of movies they'd watch with you.

ೃ chars: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, and shoto todoroki x gn! reader

ೃ tags: headcanons, fluff

ೃ warnings: none!

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr!

ೃ if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask! ♡

BAKUGO KATSUKI: when you asked katsuki what the two of you were going to be watching for your movie night, he refused to say anything. in fact, he was grumpier and snappier than usual. “don’t ask me any more shitty and useless questions. just hand me the damn remote later and i’ll click on the new marvel movie!” but, with a bit of cute probing and puppy eyes from you, he finally confessed: he wanted to binge-watch romantic movies! it wasn’t for you or because he wanted to impress you. he just wanted to. you remembered that he used to read shoujo manga out of boredom. then and there, you realized: your boyfriend was secretly a hopeless romantic and big softie hidden behind his explosive and pompous façade. the two of you start with one of the most iconic romantic movies, which was the notebook. katsuki almost shed a tear whilst you were a bawling mess. he tried his best to act brave for you all throughout the marathon. the next movie was the fault in our stars... and tears were shed too. for the third, you opted for a more light-hearted rom-com so you played 10 Things I Hate About You on the projector. and your last movie for the night was Crazy Rich Asians so that your movie night would end on a high note. when the two of you were getting ready to tune in for the night, katsuki turns to you, his arms wrapped around lovingly around your waist and whispers: “i’m going to be a better boyfriend than those shitty losers.”

“suki-kun... could you please elaborate on that? does that mean you want to be the best one out there?”

“of course! i’d be there for you always, take care of you til we’re old and wrinkly-ass, be there for you through every step of the fucking way, and... love you forever. you got that (y/n)?”

IZUKU MIDORIYA: it wasn’t a particularly planned date night with izuku so the two of you opted to watch some movies and... you decided upon your go-to genre with him which were marvel movies! Or rather, superhero movies in general. Izuku could literally be a part of the spider verse and could actually be an alternate universe peter parker simply because of their similarities. It was something you noticed recently and would tease your verdant-haired and freckled boyfriend about it. To which he would react very shyly but he loved the compliment and the cute observation you’ve made. Even calling you his Mary Jane (although he was fumbling and could barely even say the words when he tried to tell you) The MCU was very dear to Izuku and he could watch it again and again for days on end. You were there to accompany him and binge it with him of course! Starting from the very first Iron Man, then ending your marathon by watching Spiderman Far From Home. But, not before he cried his heart out to Endgame first and you were there to comfort him. Supplying him with endless hugs and tissues. It was such an adorable view to see Izuku so invested and so immersed into the world of superheroes. You would hear him mumble to himself about the theories surrounding the next marvel movies, and you’d ask him “what are you talking about izu-kun?” and he would start babbling and you loved to hear every second of it. Izuku was in his element and you were just elated over the fact that a series of movies could bring him this much happiness.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yup? What’s up Izu-kun?”

“I love you 3000.”

TODOROKI SHOTO: Shoto barely had the time to live like a kid when he was young. One of those missing core childhood memories was being able to watch animated movies. Those of disney and dreamworks. And so, you took the opportunity of introducing to him the wide and magical array of said movies. To revive the kid inside of him so that he can finally watch and experience the wondrous feelings these same films made you feel as a child. It was gonna be a long marathon and what better way to start with a movie that was closely related to Shoto in some way shape or form- Frozen! Your boyfriend’s eyes were glued to the screen when the Let It Go scene began to play. “I wonder if I can make that with my ice…” He mumbles to himself in awe, tapping his finger to his lips. He turns to you, eyes ever so innocent. “Do you think that’s possible, (Y/N)?” “Ooh! Would you want to try it, Sho-kun?”

It didn’t take long till you finally started hearing Shoto humming to your favorite disney songs absentmindedly whenever he was doing work at home. and, once he notices you fondly staring at him and giggling to yourself, he takes you by the hand and twirls you around. the both of you singing along to the non-existent beat and getting all the lyrics wrong. he would be very curious of said movies and sometimes he would ask the weirdest questions out of the blue. like why was winnie the pooh color yellow or why could no one stop aurora from pricking her finger? there were also times when shoto would ask very interesting ones like why didn’t peter end up with wendy or did boo ever see sully and mike again? and, you were always there to answer his questions and share your own opinions. you had never seen him this inquisitive and curious about the most trivial things in disney movies. and so, after a long marathon of pixar movies and calling it a day, the two of you were cleaning up the living room til shoto stops for a second to speak.

“(Y/N).” He began calmly. “Do you remember that one famous quote from Winnie the Pooh?”

“I don’t think I can recall that. What is it?”

“If you live to be 100, I want to live to 100 minus one day so I never have to live without you.”

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34 @lovelytarou @ramunegoddess, @serossimpy @laudthingcat @f0leysgurl

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the-blue-fairie · 3 years

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On pitting characters against each other and bad media criticism in the Frozen fandom:

So, I made a post a few days ago about undue negativity towards Elsa in the fandom where I criticized a comment someone made on one of my posts The comment said that Anna deserved to know that she was loved and the deleted scene where Elsa shows Anna the memory of her parents should have been left in the finished film (something I agree with), but also said that, “Outside of Kristoff, Anna can count on everyone else using her, leaving her, and manipulating her” (something I do not agree with and I feel throws not only Elsa but Olaf, Mattias, and the Northuldra under the bus.)

But today this same commenter reblogged one of my analysis posts and praised it, so I thought, “Hey, maybe I was too harsh on this person. We seem to agree on certain things.” So I looked over at their blog to see if I misjudged them and...

Oh dear, where to begin? First of all, I don’t believe Lee and Buck “hate” Anna. I think they love Anna very much, just like they love Elsa very much. People in this fandom, when talking about flaws in the writing of F2, always want to claim that the writers/directors/actors are conspiring against their favorite character. You see it with certain people claiming that the filmmakers “hate” Elsa and you see it with certain people (like this individual here) claiming that the writers “hate” Anna.

Writing doesn’t work like that. Making a film is a long and difficult process and sometimes the filmmakers make mistakes or make bad choices or end up creating a scene with negative ramifications all while having the best intentions. It’s not malice, it’s just an unfortunate circumstance or, at worst, poor writing. And I’m not saying we can’t talk about flaws in F2 or scenes that are badly written and might undermine certain characters’ arcs. I do that all the time myself. But saying that those flaws are because the filmmakers hate one of their characters is... That’s not a valid way to go about film criticism.

I also don’t think that Lee and Buck “destroyed [Anna] to promote Elsa.” Now, I do feel that there are flaws in the writing of F2 and that has negative consequences sometimes for both of the sisters’ arcs. And I do have conflicting feelings about the fact that so much of Anna’s arc is about suffering, about watching her world crumble about her while she tries to keep it intact; whereas Elsa’s arc is so much bout validation. As someone who connects deeply with Anna’s pain in F2, Anna’s arc hurts to watch. And sometimes, on an instinctive level, I feel that Anna’s arc is cruel to her and that I can’t watch this character that I see myself in go through pain after pain after pain even when she is going to pick herself back up - and I do feel that the film should have given her more validation at points.

But even with my misgivings about Anna’s arc, I don’t think the filmmakers “destroyed her.” In fact, I think Anna’s arc is far more cohesive than Elsa’s in F2. (When I say this, everyone, I am NOT saying that “the filmmakers hate Elsa and that’s why Anna’s arc is stronger” and I’m NOT saying “something something conspiracy about KBell” - but I do feel the writers weren’t quite sure what to do with Elsa because she means so much to so many people and she’s kind of “too much for Disney: too powerful, too traumatized, too independent, too gay,” as a writer put it recently, and the writers are trapped having to write Elsa within the confines of the stifling Disney system - just as they are trapped in the same way when writing Anna.) But anyway, I feel this person is completely wrong when they say Lee and Buck “destroyed” Anna. Anna is still Anna. She’s still brave, fearless, resourceful, struggling with her trauma day by day and striving forward to do the Next Right Thing. In my personal opinion, The Next Right Thing is the true spiritual successor of Let it Go and one of my favorite songs in the franchise - even if it hurts me so much to watch the scene that I hardly do... because it feels too real. But the fact it feels too real only goes to show the love that was put into it. The filmmakers didn’t destroy Anna.

Also... “Elsa should have been killed off and not brought back”? WHAT? That’s just... deliberately incendiary, trying to push people’s buttons. And I know Elsa is just a fictional character so you might say I should calm down but... that’s the thing. Elsa is a fictional character, so this person should calm down about her. How can you expend such hate for a character who has a good heart, who tries over and over to do the right thing and who, like Anna, has suffered trauma? Elsa isn’t a deliberately cruel character. Elsa is an incredibly loving and empathetic character. And while, yes, I’d argue that there are aspects of Elsa’s arc in F2 that are poorly written, that isn’t Elsa’s fault because Elsa isn’t real. As hb-pickle put it recently, if you have issues with the way Elsa is written, focus your energy on saying something like, “These and these aspects of the writing fell short and although it seems like the filmmakers wanted to convey [x], they actually ended up conveying [y] and [z] because of these and these flaws.”

As I’ve mentioned previously, it’s interesting to me how much this person’s attitude parallels someone like Isa’s attitude in key ways, in spite of the fact that one person ships KA and the other EA. It’s actually really interesting how much extreme KA shippers and extreme EA shippers have in common sometimes even when neither side will admit it because they hate each other’s ships and see themselves as utterly opposed.

And sometimes, it’s not even commonality in negative behaviors but in critiques that actually show a positive common ground between these two groups, if anyone paused to consider that common ground. I’m not saying we should be trying to find common ground with someone like Isa who behaves so corrosively though - just that there’s sometimes commonality in critiques from opposite ends of the fandom that I find surprising. Like, the post that this person praised in the tag was a post where I talked about Elsa’s conclusion in F2 feeling unearned because the film focuses more on Elsa’s connection to Ahtohallan than to human beings. I was saying that, although we have no evidence that Elsa literally lives on the glacier (something BEH proponents sometimes suggest), we DO have evidence that the film cares more about Elsa’s connection to the glacier than to people.

So my argument, this person’s agreement with my argument, and the BEH argument all align in strong ways, actually. We’re all trying to make an argument about flaws or frustrating issues with the way Elsa was written. We all agree about core aspects of what we are discussing.

But where I try to say, “This is a flaw in the text that I feel distances Elsa from her humanity and, as an Elsa fan, I have mixed feelings about that,” this person feels, “This is a flaw in the text that means Elsa is bad and emotionally distant and the filmmakers don’t criticize this emotional distance because the filmmakers are bad and don’t care as much about Anna’s pain as they do Elsa’s validation and the filmmakers... love Elsa and hate Anna.” And then someone like Isa feels, “This is a flaw in the text that distances Elsa from her humanity and that proves the filmmakers hate Elsa.” And also, knowing Isa, she’d probably blame it all on the malice of Kristen Bell in a similar way as this person blames things on the malice of Lee and Buck.

But again, it’s not malice. At worst, it’s bad writing emerging from good intentions.

For years now, people in the Frozen fandom have had a bad habit of tearing certain characters down to prop their favorite characters up. But it doesn’t have to be that way. You don’t have to tear Elsa down to prop up Anna up. You don’t have to pit the sisters against each other. You don’t have to tear Anna down to prop Elsa up. You don’t have to tear Kristoff down to prop Elsa up. You don’t have to tear Elsa down to prop Kristoff up. You don’t have to tear Olaf down to prop Kristoff up. And you don’t have to tear the Northuldra down to prop up your “vision” of Elsa.

You don’t need to tear characters down to celebrate those you love.

And, if you read this and think I’m trying to order you to like certain characters or trying to stop valid criticism of characters or of the franchise, recognize that you’re approaching this post in bad faith. Because I value valid criticism and I engage in it myself... but extremist takes like these undermine valid criticism. They don’t help it.

(Also, I’m not equating people with Isa. Isa’s racist rhetoric sets her apart and makes her worse than other extreme people within the fandom, but that doesn’t mean other extreme people don’t have similarities to her behavior in other ways. And people should pause to check the extremes of their own biases.)

#frozen #frozen 2 #elsa #anna

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jalapeno-princess · 3 years

Text

What if I Never Get Over You?

(He’s so pretty ugh God really does have his favorites)

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst (A lot of curse words) (Angry Mark) (God bless)

Word Count: 8.9K

Summary: Mark was just seconds away from falling asleep after a long, exhausting day of work until Jackson comes over to his place, angry with the fact that Mark has been avoiding all of their many attempts to get him to move on. However, Mark has come to the realization even in the beginning of your break up that there is simply no getting over you.

A/N: Hey guys! So, this imagine is based off of the song “What if I never get over you” by Lady A and honestly it is one of my favorite songs ever and I’ve been listening to it on repeat for the last couple of weeks so I highly recommend that you listen to it while reading the lyrics hit me so hard for someone who has never been in a relationship once in the 22 years of my existence and I just found myself unable to stop typing this specific story. I’m currently in the middle of finals so I will be able to focus more on writing (If I’m being honest, I focus more on writing than I do on my education who am I even kidding LOL). This one is a little more on the sad side but the ending (I don’t know how I feel about it) but I consider it happy I guess? Please enjoy!

It's supposed to hurt, it's a broken heart But to movin' on is the hardest part It comes in waves, the letting go But the memory fades, everybody knows Everybody knows

What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye? And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you?

“Mark Yi-En Tuan—open the damn door. I have a bone to pick with you.”

The word exhaustion couldn’t even describe half of what Mark was currently feeling. He had just finished work less than half an hour ago and against his friend’s pleas to grab a drink with them at the bar they normally frequented, he made a beeline back to his apartment. All he wanted to do was change out of his scrubs and sleep for the next twelve hours.

Being a registered nurse was actually the last occupation Mark would’ve thought he’d ever get in to. As a young boy, all the way up until his senior year in high school, he never cared about anything other than playing baseball, video games, hanging out with his friends and eating junk food. He desired to “live in the moment” as much as he possibly could while he was still young and he decided he would worry about his future once he graduated from high school. Even when he did move on to college, he had no idea what his plans were.

Like a lot of his friends, he was attending university in order to please his parents and to get a degree. In what—he didn’t care. Honestly, he thought about studying many different majors—engineering, kinesiology, biology, criminal justice and at one point—culinary. But he could never see himself settling in to any of those careers. His younger brother Joey knew that he wanted to be a pharmacist and unlike Mark; his soul purpose was to be successful in his education.

At the time, Mark considered the younger boy to be a loser. He wasn’t living his high school life to his fullest potential—or at least that’s what Mark thought. On the day of his graduation, his principal began announcing each and every one of his classmates; what college they were attending, whether or not they received any honors and what they planned on majoring in. When it was his turn and the principal called his name, he was excited to finally be over with that chapter in his life.

He expected to take the diploma and walk back to the bleachers like everyone else was. However, he felt exceptionally stupid when it was made aware that he had no idea what he was going to do after high school. Even his good friend BamBam—the class clown and the student with the lowest gpa in his graduating class had plans to go to college and major in hospitality. It made him feel pathetic and although the audience clapped right after he shook hands with his principal, he couldn’t help but feel as though some people were probably laughing at him.

Hell, if he were to be sitting in the crowd and someone were to be in the same situation he was in, he would’ve laughed too. How could someone who was eighteen years old have no clue what he wanted to do for the rest of his life? That made him realize that Joey wasn’t the loser—Joey was extremely intelligent and planned for his future before he even realized what a future was. He was also the reason why Mark ended up going in to the medical field seeing as how his goal was to become a pharmacist and open up his own pharmacy one day.

The younger boy; along with his parents and his friend Jinyoung coerced him in to attending med school because they witnessed how much of a people person Mark was and they felt like he would be very successful in whatever career he were to obtain. It wasn’t an easy road to success—in fact, he found himself wanting to give up more times than he could count on his fingers.

College was already frustrating as it is, but majoring in nursing was one of the more difficult fields and a lot of the students who started off in nursing did not end up graduating with a nursing degree. Mark had no idea how he ended up getting his bachelor’s—let alone his master’s degree; especially because he felt there were so many students who were smarter than him and had more knowledge than him when it came to nursing who ended up getting kicked out of the program.

Whenever he felt like giving up; when the multiple all-nighters he would pull in order to study for exams that he never seemed to be able to pass no matter how hard he tried, or the numerous amount of nights he found himself crying because he was afraid he wouldn’t make it and become the successful nurse everyone was expecting him to be—he remembered why he was going through all of that pain and suffering in the first place and it only gave him the motivation to continue until he finally achieved his goal.

It took him almost six years, but it was worth it. He loved his job; although it could get very hectic almost every single day, he would get yelled at by patients for things out of his control, he got thrown up on, urinated on and even had families of patients threaten to get him fired, he also witnessed many miracles throughout the walls of the hospital and he got to meet a lot of people who would change his life. One person in particular that was the sole reason why his younger friend was currently pounding on his door—wanting to reprimand him for something he did a few days prior.

Mark sat on his couch and weighed out his options; he could just let Jackson continue knocking on his door until he either got tired or came to the realization that there was a chance Mark was fast asleep by now. As good as that idea sounded, he was afraid that he would get noise complaints from his neighbors and the last thing he needed was to get evicted from his apartment over a ruckus he wasn’t even causing.

Mark took in a deep breath and prepared himself for any confrontation Jackson might let out. He was expecting his rowdy and extroverted friend to bother him sooner, but then again —it’s not like Mark ever really hung out with his group of friends all that much in the last few months. If only he could say it was strictly because his job was working him to the core and making him exceedingly tired; if only it were that simple.

He took a look in the peephole; curious as to whether or not Jackson was alone and if there was a chance he was drunk. The older boy released a sigh of relief when he saw Jinyoung and Yugyeom with him—he knew they would probably act as the mediators of Jackson went too far and said something to infuriate Mark.

It’s happened many times in the past; Jackson Wang—bless his soul; but he had to be one of the most attention seeking and loud mouthed people that Mark knew. He also had no filter and said things like they were; he wasn’t afraid of hurting people’s feelings. Especially if those people just so happened to be his six good friends. As soon as he opened the door and saw the aggravated look on Jackson’s face, he had to stop himself from slamming the door and heading back to his room.

“It’s almost midnight. I’m so fucking tired Jackson, this couldn’t have waited till the morning? Or at least an hour where I’m not drained of all my energy and won’t be able to fight back if the situation called for it?”

Jackson ignored his comment and walked right past him—plopping himself on to Mark’s couch. The two other boys gave Mark apologetic expressions; it was obvious that they felt bad for bothering him at such a late hour—especially seeing that Mark was ready to knock out at any second.

Neither of them wanted to be there, but when Jackson gets drunk—which he was currently plastered at the moment; heightening his confidence that Mark was quickly growing irritated with, he has a tendency of admitting things he would never say when sober and because their conversation at dinner consisted of Mark and his personal life, the five other guys knew leaving Jackson alone with Mark was not the best idea.

One of them would end up with a black eye and a busted lip and there was a ninety-five percent chance that it would be Jackson. Mark was never a physical person; he never believed in violence and he tried his best to solve problems verbally before having to get physical. He’s been best friends with Jackson for almost sixteen years now—this meant that he was extremely comfortable with putting the younger boy in his place if he had to.

There were only a couple times that Jackson and Mark either disagreed or actually fought over something and it was usually Jackson who’d instigate a lot of their quarrels. One time, Jackson said something that really got under Mark’s skin and he ended up with a busted lip. It wasn’t like the two of them stayed mad at each other for too long though; all it took was a few apologies, a couple of beers and some takeout that would get the both of them back on speaking terms.

Jinyoung and Yugyeom weren’t too sure about what would happen between their two oldest friends tonight. Jackson was furious with Mark—he went in to great detail about how he was going to give him “a piece of his mind.” They didn’t completely agree with the points that Jackson made; especially because Mark was old enough to make his own decisions and nobody, not even his really good friend could tell him how to live his life.

“Why did you tell Sophia that you weren’t interested in a long-term relationship? She called me crying this morning saying that you no longer were interested in her—“

Mark rolled his eyes at Jackson’s complaints. He knew he would get an earful sooner or later about how he’s been avoiding Jackson’s and even the rest of their friend group’s many attempts at trying to set Mark up with someone they knew—whether it was a coworker or a mutual friend. A couple of weeks ago, Jackson introduced Mark to a friend of his girlfriend.

He wasn’t going to lie, Sophia was very pretty; she was also very smart—had a bachelor’s degree in family law and she was still in school trying to get her master’s. However, Mark wasn’t interested in her—or any of the girls that the rest of his friends tried to get him to go out with. He understood that his friends were only trying to help him “get back in to the game” or whatever BamBam said—but the eldest boy did not want anything to do romantically with anyone his friends were trying to set him up with.

“Because I’m not. I was never interested in her to begin with. I was just going on these dates with her to get you off my back. She’s a nice girl; all the girls you guys tried to introduce me to are nice girls—but I don’t want a relationship right now Jackson nor do I even have the time to focus on another person, I barely have time to take care of myself. I know you guys are worried about me, but I’m fine. I’m twenty-seven years old; sure I’m not as young as I used to be, but settling down in to a relationship is the least of my worries. If you’re just bothered by the fact that I’m the only single guy in the group and you pity watching me sit by myself while you’re all accompanied by your girlfriends, I just won’t go out with you guys anymore.”

When Jackson let out a scoff, the two younger boys looked at each other cautiously. Shit was going to hit the fan soon and they were afraid if they didn’t leave within the next five minutes, punches were going to be thrown. They also grew worried that if both Mark and Jackson were to argue, especially over the topic of Mark’s love life, that it might actually ruin their friendship with no promise of reconciliation.

“Stop giving me that shit Mark. It’s not because you’re busy—you’re still hung up over y/n! That’s why you’ve been pushing away everyone from your life and I’m sick of it! It’s been almost seven months Mark, you need to move on. She obviously isn’t coming back. If she genuinely still loved you, she would have never left in the first place. Stop trying to look for y/n in other girls and stop letting another chance at being in love again slip through your fingers because you have this stupid hope that one day, she’ll realize that she made a mistake in breaking up with you—“

“Jackson, shut up—“

“For all you know, she’s already moved on—“

“Jackson, if you know what’s best for you, you would shut up—“

“Maybe the reason why she left is because she found someone else—someone who would give her the love and attention you failed to give her towards the end of your relationship and that idea alone is what’s messing with your head. Thinking about her loving someone else, finding solace in someone else, fucking another man—“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP JACKSON. YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT. YES, I STILL LOVE Y/N. I’M ALWAYS GOING TO LOVE Y/N—IT’S ALWAYS GOING TO BE Y/N. I HAD THE FUCKING RING AND EVERYTHING SO DON’T YOU THINK FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND THAT I’M EVER GOING TO MOVE ON TO SOMEONE ELSE. I TOLD YOU ALL AFTER THE SECOND FAILED DATE YOUNGJAE TRIED TO SET ME UP ON THAT I HAD NO INTEREST IN CONTINUING THESE BLIND DATES. I DON’T NEED ANYONE’S HELP IN FINDING ME A RELATIONSHIP BECAUSE I DON’T FUCKING WANT TO BE IN ONE AT ALL IF IT’S NOT WITH HER. GET THAT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING HEAD.”

Once those last few words fell out of Mark’s mouth, the entire room fell quiet. Yugyeom and Jinyoung were stunned—Mark was a very soft-spoken and timid individual. Most people who were newly introduced to him could get a couple of words out of him if they were lucky. A lot of his patients at the hospital could go on and on in conversation and he would simply just him or nod his head as a way to communicate with them.

However, whenever it came to his friends and family, the eldest boy could talk up a storm. Mark was a very kind-hearted person; he was known for having a lot of patience and understanding—but he also had a huge temper. It took a lot for something or someone to piss him off; especially because he didn’t want anyone to look at him in a negative light. Normally, he could keep his ill-feelings at bay, but there were a few occasions where he allowed himself to yell or grunt in frustration.

Your relationship was a very touchy subject. Sure, it’s been over half a year since that night where you told Mark you no longer could handle being suffocated in your toxic relationship and usually most men were known to bounce back after a week. But Mark wasn’t like most men and you weren’t just any ordinary woman. You were the love of his life—his soulmate, his best friend, his person, the one he wanted to settle down, start a family and spend the rest of his life with.

He was devastated when you told him you were leaving and he even tried his best in to getting you to change your mind. He made so many promises of bettering himself in order to be a boyfriend you were proud of. He repeatedly told you that he would be nothing without you and that he would do anything in his power to get you to change your mind, but it wasn’t enough. Mark was well aware that his job play a huge role in your breakup.

Most of his time was spent at the hospital—but you were very considerate and understanding that his career was one of his main priorities other than his friends, his family and you. However, during the small amount of free time that he had, Mark had a tendency of spending that time either playing video games, going out to bars with his friends or playing with his dog Milo. As his girlfriend, you’ve witnessed how exhausted he could get from work; he was constantly on his feet for ten to twelve hours a day.

It was only natural for him to want to relax and unwind doing the things he was interested in. You wanted to be there for your boyfriend in whatever way you could, but you also had your needs and desires—not necessarily sexual, but there was a point in your relationship where you went weeks and even months without being intimate with Mark because he was always so tired and never had the energy to love on your body in the ways that he used to.

There was a time—a long amount of time in your relationship where the two of you could never keep your hands off of each other to the point where your friends would purposely have to sit between the two of you on nights you would all go out together in attempts to get the two of you to stop kissing or simply just showing any kind of affection towards one another. Unfortunately, towards the end of your relationship, you were only getting a peck on your lips if you were lucky.

Your relationship no longer had the spark that would send flames to your entire body just being around him—you no longer felt butterflies in your tummy whenever you looked at him. Sometimes when you’d gaze at him, you felt as though you were looking at a stranger, not the man you spent four years of your life with. You never understood where it went wrong; it just felt like the love and adoration Mark had for you just stopped out of no where.

He no longer called or texted you on his breaks to check up on you and see what you were doing, he stopped complimenting you on your outfits or if you did something new to your hair and the two of you could no longer hold a conversation for longer than five minutes without it feeling forced. You wanted to believe that he was just acting like this because work took up his entire being—physical and mental health. But he would go out with his friends right after a shift and sometimes he’d stay out for hours on end. It made you wonder if you were the problem.

Maybe he stopped loving you or your relationship became a chore to him and was no longer a priority to him as it used to be. The constant need to be around each other, the comfort you felt from being wrapped in his arms and the happiness that came from just knowing that he was yours no longer existed. It disappeared completely along with any kind of feelings you harbored for him and you didn’t think there was anything that could bring it back.

The thought of no longer having Mark in your life; no longer waking up to his devastatingly handsome face—no longer getting to kiss his pretty, pink lips, and no longer being the lucky person who got to love him—it slowly tore your heart apart, but what could you do? You felt as though the only reason why Mark continued to stay with you was because he grew comfortable with the routine in your relationship. Having to go out and start another relationship with someone new wasn’t something you even wanted to think about.

Deep in your heart, even if the two of you were going through , Mark Tuan was the only person you saw yourself wanting to get married to. All you ever wanted and could ever need was Mark. He owned you entirely; your mind, your body, your heart and soul—it was all his and it would always be his. But you couldn’t continue going on like this. Your relationship was slowly tearing you apart; it was suffocating you to the point where you felt as though you were going crazy.

Every now and then, you’d find yourself going back to that fateful night where you told him you were leaving. It took you weeks to come to that decision; hell, even months really. Every time you built the courage to finally give up on Mark entirely, you’d look at him as the two of you were lying down in bed and time to time, you would cry. He seemed an entire world away even if the two of you were just inches apart.

He might have been in the bed with you—but it genuinely felt like the bed was so spacious and empty. However, as you would gaze at him while he slept soundly, there was a little voice in your head begging you to wait a little longer. Something told you that things were going to get better and your life would turn out miserable if you were to break up with him.

You prayed and prayed that the voice was telling the truth; you wanted your relationship to work so badly. He might not have been giving you much attention these days or treating you the way he used to, but you would rather continue to stay with him and try your best to fix your crumbling relationship than to be happy with anyone else. When he saw your luggage lined up at the door he didn’t even flinch. It’s as if he knew this was coming; and it didn’t seem to bother him one bit.

That’s what hurt you the most; his blank expression only confirmed your worries—he no longer loved you or cared enough about you to even ask why your bags were packed or where you were going. He just simply stared at you for a couple of minutes before tilting his head in the direction of your bags.

“Where are you going?” He didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that you were seconds away from walking out of his life completely.

“I’m leaving you.”

The words were bitter on your tongue—there were a few times in your relationship where the two of you argued and it would end up with him sleeping outside on the couch—but that’s the worst it’s ever been. This was the first time you were actually throwing in the white flag; you were mentally exhausted. You refused to continue fighting for a relationship that was barely even existing anymore. If you were to continue putting your time and effort in to Mark knowing that he no longer did the same for you, you would probably develop some form of depression. You loved yourself too much to allow him to continue breaking your heart and taking advantage of your love.

“Why?” You scoffed—he had to be joking right? Did he think that the two of you were okay? Was he fine with the fact that your relationship was no longer what it used to be? Did the lack of intimacy or time spent together not bother him at all—the way it was quickly ruining you?

“You don’t love me anymore. I don’t know when you stopped—but all I know is that you did. Our relationship turned it to this toxic partnership. I don’t know what happened or what went wrong, but I’m so fucking unhappy Mark. I look at you and I don’t see the love of my life—I don’t see the aspiring nurse I met all those years ago who showed me and taught what love is. All I see when I look at you is a shell of the person you used to be. You’re like a stranger to me Mark and I hate—I fucking hate that things turned out like this and what’s killing me the most is that it doesn’t seem to bother you. You hardly make time for me—for us. It’s like you have to force yourself to genuinely enjoy being around me these days. Go look at your missed calls and all of your text messages. It’s all me. I’m practically begging for your attention and any kind of reaction out of you and nothing—literal nothing. I don’t know what to do anymore; I don’t want to leave Mark. I don’t want to be without you. But why should I continue putting in effort to a relationship that is just moments away from ending completely—“

“What makes you think that I no longer love you—wait—don’t answer that.”

He took a deep breath in before walking towards you and doing the unexpected; he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and gently placed his forehead against yours. This was the first time in such a long time that you were this close in proximity with him—having him hold you, touch you, looking at you in such an apologetic way; you honestly didn’t know how to feel. You wanted to be happy; anytime Mark would touch you, kiss you, hold your hand or your waist, wrap his arm around your shoulder—any form of intimacy with your boyfriend always made your heart flutter. Unfortunately, you felt nothing and it broke your heart.

“I know, I haven’t been all that great these days, I’ve been a terrible boyfriend and I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. I’m so fucking sorry baby—so fucking sorry. There’s no excuse—I can’t say it’s because of work or come up with any other logical reason. I guess I just got used to us doing our own things. I was content just having you around. I don’t know how I went so long with the distance—or being absent even if I’m physically there. I just—fuck, I know it sounds wrong but I just assumed because I plan on spending the rest of my life with you that a little bump in the road wasn’t going to do anything to hinder our relationship. If I knew that it was going to cause you to question the love I have for you and even get you to pack your bags with the intention of leaving me, I would have done something—“

“But you didn’t Mark. You knew something was wrong but you didn’t do anything about it. You just assumed that whatever we were going through was normal. News flash—it wasn’t. Our relationship is falling apart at the seams Mark. Did it not occur to you even once that the distance—the fact that we could no longer hold a decent conversation, that we haven’t had sex or been intimate in the last few weeks—it’s not normal? You obviously never put my feelings in to consideration. I’m dying Mark—mentally, you’re breaking my fucking heart.”

You allowed yourself to take a quick breath; you could feel your tears continuously building up at the brim of your eyelids. As much as you didn’t want Mark to see you cry because you didn’t think he deserved it—it was too hard for you to keep your crying at bay.

“The love you have for me—that’s a joke right? You no longer love me. I don’t know what you think you feel for me but it’s definitely not love or at least it’s no longer love. If you still loved me, you would continue to show me and tell me like you never failed to do before. Showering me with your love, attention and care shouldn’t stop just because you have me—I don’t care if you’re used to our relationship or if you’ve grown comfortable where you don’t feel the need to contact me or check up on me—I don’t even care if I’m not your main priority. I’m completely understanding that your job takes up your time and energy, but I need you to know how shitty I feel every time I see you staying up to play video games or going out with your friends. I never wanted to be that girlfriend; I want you to be happy—your happiness is all that I care about, but it would be nice if I could be your happiness. Tell me Mark, when did you stop caring about me? When did you stop caring about my mood, my thoughts, how I was feeling, how the state of our relationship was? I can’t even remember what your lips feel or taste like, does it not bother you at all?”

You saw him inch closer to you; you assumed he wanted to try and pull you back in to his embrace but you found yourself stepping back. When Mark saw you try to get away from him, that’s how he knew it was over. Once you were to get everything from off your chest, you were going to leave and there was nothing he could do about it.

He could continue to persuade you to stay—he could promise you that he’d change and that your relationship would return back to what it used to be, but there was no use. Hearing to confess how lonely you felt; how heartbroken he made you and how you didn’t even feel like you were in a relationship with him at all shook him to the core—he knew you were leaving, no matter how hard he’d try to get you to change your mind. You were the kind of person that when you set your heart to something, it would always prevail. A break up was no different.

“Y/n, please. I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I need you. I’m nothing without you. If I lose you, God I don’t think I’ll ever love again. You’re it for me baby, I mean that. You’re all I could ever want and need for the rest of my life. I’ll do better, I’ll be a better boyfriend—I’ll make up for all the lost time and I promise you, we’ll be okay again. Please baby, find it in your heart to forgive me. Everybody makes mistakes, we’re only human—“

As soon as he felt your dainty fingertips cup his cheek ever so gently before you placed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, it felt as though his soul left his body. You didn’t have to say anything; your actions spoke volumes for you. Your fingers were featherlight on his skin; it took every bone in his body not you pull you closer to him and hold you as tightly as physically possible. He didn’t know he was able to actually feel his heartbreak. Whenever someone would describe suffering from a broken heart, he thought they would be hurting mentally, psychologically or spiritually but right now, he could feel his heart crying—begging for you to give him one more chance.

“Y/n—please—“

You could have sworn your heart sank to your stomach once you heard his voice crack. Your bags were already packed and you made the decision to finally leave months ago, why were you suddenly regretting your decision? You mentally prepared yourself for this reaction although you’d be lying if you said you expected him to break down and beg you not to leave like he currently was right now. If anything, you expected complete silence—with the way he’s been acting in the last few weeks, you just assumed he no longer cared about your presence or being in a relationship with you. To see him on his knees crying and begging for you to change your mind—you wanted to just say fuck it and pull him in to your embrace.

He was trying—he promised he would change and do better; you wished his words could be enough for you. There were so many doubts in your mind telling you that he was all talk. That—he would try and put more time and effort in to your relationship, but it wouldn’t last long. He would get tired of having to prioritize you—tired of having to please you. You couldn’t put yourself through all that unnecessary pain again—the pain of not feeling good enough for him to want to spend and make time for you.

You couldn’t force him to love you the way he used to—you loved Mark, God, did you love Mark. Honestly, you would do anything to make him happy; you would sacrifice your own happiness to make sure he was always smiling and thriving. But during the distance, since you didn’t feel like you had a boyfriend to love, you began to fall in love with yourself. While you were losing Mark, you were finding yourself.

“I have to go Mark. One day, you’ll see why I made this decision—why I felt as if this was the only choice I had. I love you Mark. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I don’t think you will ever be able to fathom just how much I love you and how I would go to the ends of the earth just to make sure you’re well taken care of. Your happiness and well being is all I care about. You are all I care about—I just—I need time to heal. I need time to grow and to rediscover happiness. I need to learn to live without you. Who knows, maybe being apart will lead us to want to come together again. I love you and you love me—if it’s meant to be, we will find our way back to each other again. I’m really going to miss you. Please take care of yourself.”

With one more kiss on his lips, you took your luggage and left. Mark couldn’t describe just how heartbroken, helpless and genuinely miserable he was now feeling. He wanted to run after you and yank your bags out of your hands—he knew he could try harder to get you to stay, but he didn’t want to make things worse. The first few weeks were the hardest; Mark felt as if he could die from a broken heart. He couldn’t eat—he had no appetite.

His mind kept replaying the way you left so easily—taunting him like a bad dream. He felt like he was having a nightmare that reoccurred every single day. He couldn’t stop thinking about you—how you were going about the entire breakup, where you were staying, if you were suffering even half as much as he was or if you were regretting your decision even just a little.

As the months went by, nothing changed—even if he tried his best to move on, he felt in his chest that there was no getting over you. He meant what he told you on your last night together, he was genuinely afraid that he would never be able to find closure nor would he ever be able to fall in love again. He didn’t want to be in love again if it meant with someone else. You owned Mark entirely; his mind, his body, his heart and his soul—they all belonged to you and they always would.

Jinyoung and Yugyeom knew it would be best to get their older friend out of there before Jackson said even more things he probably shouldn’t or before Mark grew physical.

“We should uh—we’ll get going here. Mark, man I’m genuinely sorry this happened tonight, we shouldn’t even have come here. I should have tried harder to stop him but you know how Jackson gets when he’s drunk. I’m really fucking sorry dude about everything. You know what Jackson said isn’t true and I’m sure he doesn’t even know what he said. He’ll probably wake up tomorrow morning completely brainless about everything—“

Mark gave Jinyoung a sad smile before pulling him in for a hug. If anyone understood what Mark was going through, it was Jinyoung. Mark wasn’t the type to tell people of his problems—no even the people closest to him. If something bad happened to him, he would suffer all by himself because he didn’t want other people to worry about him.

However, Jinyoung was the only one Mark allowed to see him in such a vulnerable and fragile state. Sure, Jinyoung also tried to set him up with one of his friends, but that’s only because he wanted Mark to get another chance at love. He hated seeing Mark so sad—so dejected and moping around, living but not really existing. Although Jinyoung really liked you for his older friend and believed that the two of you were soulmates, he also believed that if you still wanted to be in a relationship with Mark, you would.

No matter how hard relationships could be sometimes, you never give up on someone you picture spending the rest of your life with. If you genuinely love someone, you’re going to fight for them even if the battle can be too much to handle. He saw Mark through so many phases of depression and grief; he’d witness Mark finish bottles of wine in one sitting while crying at every single thing that reminded him of you. Unlike Jackson though, he wasn’t going to force Mark in a relationship if he didn’t want to be in one. He was a grown man—he could make his own decisions himself. The last thing he or anyone in his situation needed was for his friends to get involved in his personal life.

“Jinyoung, do you think you could do me a favor? I um—I think I want to be alone for a couple of days. Do you mind telling the other guys to let me be for a little while? I just—tonight was too much for me. I don’t want to get angry with any one of you. I can’t say how long I plan on being away I just—I don’t need this right now.”

There was so much Jinyoung wanted to say—he didn’t think it was a good idea for Mark to be alone and he wished Jackson just kept his mouth shut, but he also knew that nothing he could say would get Mark to change his mind. He nodded in agreement—not wanting to make the older boy even more upset before motioning for Yugyeom to pick up Jackson’s sleeping figure from the couch.

“Promise me you will call me if and when you need me. Oh, and please look after yourself. If you’re not going to allow me to come and check up on you can you at least make sure you’re eating all your meals and getting enough sleep?”

“I promise. Let me know when you get home alright? Thank you Jinyoung, I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

Mark didn’t know if he liked it better now that the three boys were gone. He might have been angry with Jackson’s obnoxious outburst, but now he was alone with the thought that you might be seeing someone else. You did mention that you would always love him; but if you missed him the way you claimed you would, wouldn’t you have come back running to him a long time ago? There might have been distance between the two of you while you were still together, but no longer being in a relationship was a extremely different scenario.

At least while the two of you were still together, he knew you were his and that he could come home to you. But now, he didn’t know anything that was going on in your life. For all Mark knew, you could have moved to another state or even another country—and now Jackson’s words were messing with his mind. Were you seeing someone? Did you already move on to somebody else and if so, did you see a future with that person? Did your mind ever wander over to Mark and how he was doing?

His skin began to crawl at the thought of you being intimate with someone else—he knew he had no right to, you were no longer his to get jealous over and he was the reason why you could now go out and start dating whoever you wanted. He wanted to scream—he was already doing so bad as it was, why did Jackson have to make him feel even more shittier than he currently was?

He found himself looking through his cupboards for any kind of alcohol, he honestly didn’t care at this point. Mark was not a heavy drinker; he never understood why his friends enjoyed wasting their money on alcohol only to get drunk, not remember a single thing and wake up with an extremely painful hangover. He wanted to take his mind off of you and the only way he could do that was if he was inebriated.

These last few months, his mind seemed to be filled with the thought of you every single day, but never did he feel like he wanted to stop thinking about you. Now that he knew there was a chance you had another man in your life, he wanted to completely rid you from his thoughts—at least for the time being. When he found a bottle of tequila way in the back of the cabinet, he released a frustrated sigh. Mark hated tequila—it had to be one of the worst kinds of alcohol there was. Not only did it taste nasty, but it felt even more horrible going down.

At this point, he didn’t care—it was all he had and he was going to take what he could get. He pulled off the cork and took a few big gulps. It made him gag a little—drinking straight from the bottle wasn’t something he was used to. Especially because tequila was meant to be either mixed or taken as shots, not to be consumed like it was water. He could feel tears building up at the brim of his eyes at how hard it was to drink it, but slowly and surely, he could feel himself getting lightheaded and moments away from completely being plastered.

When his vision grew hazy and his movements slowed down, he decided he would make his way to his room with the intention of falling asleep. It took him a while to get up from the floor and he was grateful that Milo was fast asleep in his doggy bed. He loved his little puppy more than anything and for the last few months, Milo was his own personal therapist. He made Mark smile when Mark didn’t think he was capable of that motion anymore.

However, he didn’t think he was in the right mind to take care of himself—let alone a dog. Walking in the direction of his room felt like such a hassle. What usually took him a good ten seconds felt like hours—his feet were heavy against the hardwood floor and finally, once he opened his door and flopped on top of his bed, he hummed in content. Luckily he was already changed in to his pajamas before the guys came over so he didn’t have to do anything. He didn’t realize just how much tequila he consumed; his eyelids felt heavy and he was dozing in and out of sleep.

Right as he was about to completely enter dreamland, he felt something vibrate. The buzzing noise sounded so far away, even if he knew his phone was nearby. It was probably just Jinyoung telling him he was home now—it could wait until the morning. He continued to try and fall asleep; ignoring the constant buzzing that seemingly wouldn’t stop. With a grunt, he went on the search for his device, moving his hand all around the bed until he found it. He knew whoever was trying to get in touch with him didn’t seem like they were going to stop anytime soon, so he rubbed both his eyes in attempts to break him out of his exhausted and drunken haze before checking his notifications.

Once he saw your name, he had to do a double take—there was no way you sent him a message, he had to be hallucinating. How high was the percentage of alcohol in the tequila? His mind was definitely playing tricks on him—or maybe he was actually asleep and it was his conscience coming up with what he wishes would happen? He abruptly sat up; causing him even more dizziness, but he had to make sure he was actually seeing what he thought he did. Seeing your name in his phone after seven months of not hearing you sent so many emotions and feelings to his chest and he felt overwhelmed.

Was he happy? Sad? Angry that you took so long? Excited? He couldn’t help but feel as though something was wrong. Were you okay? Did something happen to you? Did you finally come to the realization that you missed him and that you were willing to give your relationship another chance? A part of him—probably the part that was still upset with you for breaking his heart told him to ignore the messages—he wanted to lie and say he didn’t care anymore and that he was genuinely going to do whatever he could to forget about you completely. But who was he kidding? There was no getting over you. Ever. His heart begged him to click on your contact and that’s exactly what he did.

Babe: Hey. 12:54 A.M.

He mentally cursed himself for not changing your name in his phone but he couldn’t find it in himself to do so. He didn’t have the right to call you any term of endearment anymore, but once he were to change your contact to your actual name, it cemented the idea that things were actually over and he wasn’t going to give up on you just yet. Until he were to find out you were seeing someone else or that you had no intentions on getting back with him ever again, he was going to continue holding on to that tiny string of hope that one day, you’d be back in his arms again.

Babe: I’m sorry it’s so late. I mean that in more ways than one. 12:54 A.M.

Babe: I—I honestly don’t know where to begin. Let me just start by saying I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Mark. And I miss you. I miss you so much. 12:56 A.M.

Babe: I know it’s been a while and I don’t know why I felt like I could just text you out of nowhere. I understand if you’ve moved on or if you want nothing to do with me anymore. 1:02 A.M.

Babe: I’m not going to lie and say that I made a mistake breaking up with you. I knew it’s what was best for the two of us at the time. But I will admit, I’ve thought about you every single day since I left. I’m sure you’re wondering what took me so long to come to the conclusion that I’m still so in love with you—which, I am by the way. I love you and I don’t think I ever really stopped. 1:05 A.M.

Babe: If you’re in a relationship or seeing someone else, please disregard all of these messages. I hope you’re doing well and I hope you’re taking good care of yourself. Well, Goodnight. 1:06 A.M.

Maybe months go by, maybe years from now And I meet someone and it's workin' out Every now and then, he can see right through 'Cause when I look at him Yeah, all I see is you

What if I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye? And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you? Ooh yeah What if I never get over? What if I never get closure? What if I never get back all the wasted words I told ya? What if it never gets better? What if this lasts forever and ever and ever?

As soon as you sent the last text message, you allowed a couple of tears to fall but brought your hands up to your mouth in attempts to prevent yourself from sobbing. The last thing you needed was to wake up the man who was currently sleeping in bed right next to you. You felt as if you made a complete mistake trying to get in contact with Mark—you should have just left him alone. It was you who initiated the breakup in the first place.

You’ve stayed away for seven months; what person in their right mind would respond to your messages and want to take you back with open arms? You had to be crazy to think Mark still wanted anything to do to you—he probably deleted your messages as soon as he received them and you couldn’t blame them. If the roles were reversed and he did to you what you did to him, you would have blocked his number entirely. You placed your phone back on the nightstand and turned over to look at Minho; releasing an exhausted sigh before gliding your finger along his cheek.

Trying out a new relationship and seeing someone new sounded like a good idea in hind sight. He was a friend of a friend’s—your friends tried to set you up with so many different guys similarly to Mark and his group of friends. They hated seeing you so sad and heartbroken yet they didn’t understand why you were still so hung up over Mark when you were the one who decided to call it quits. Minho was very soft spoken and gentle; in a way, he resembled Mark and that’s why you felt you were attracted to him.

He was quite the gentleman—he’d always ask you how you were doing, he’d ask you if you were okay with him kissing you and holding your hand and you were sure your friends must’ve told him about your past because he was very adamant on taking your relationship at your pace. Looking at him right now, lying in your bed made you realize just how quickly things were going between the two of you and you didn’t know how you felt about that. It took you a while to sleep over Mark’s apartment and he didn’t see yours until five months in to your relationship.

However, you were beginning to believe you were rushing things because you missed having someone around all the time; you missed having the presence of someone you loved—you missed Mark. You also assumed that you were acting this way because you wanted to force yourself to like Minho so you could completely move on from Mark, but you didn’t understand why you wanted to get the thought of him out of your mind completely.

The more time you spent with Minho, going on dates with him, calling him when you couldn’t see him; you’d find yourself picturing Mark in his place. You really missed how Mark used to treat you like you were the most important person on the planet. You missed holding him and being held by him, you missed playing video games with him and coming home from a long day of work with a table full of your favorite food. Even if you were doubting his words when he told you he was going to do better, you wondered how life would be like if you did give in to him that night.

As much as you liked Minho—or at least felt like you did, a huge part of you believed that you were only staying with him for his sake. He was such a nice guy who genuinely seemed to care about you, but nobody was ever going to be Mark. You weren’t going to ever care or love anyone the way you did with Mark and you didn’t want to continue leading him on knowing that your heart belonged to someone else. You decided that you were going to call it a night, you didn’t expect Mark to get back to you any time soon if at all for that matter.

After placing a gentle kiss on Minho’s shoulder blade, you curled up in to your pillow and slowly closed your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn’t find it in yourself to fall asleep; your mind was too busy thinking about whether or not Mark read your messages and if he did, how he felt about hearing that you missed him and that you still loved him. Taking one last look at your phone, you felt your heart swell up as a small smile rose on your face.

Mark: I’m all yours. 1:36 A.M.

What if I never get over? What if I never get closure? What if I never get back all the wasted words I told ya? What if it never gets better? What if this lasts forever and ever and ever?

I'm tryin', but then I close my eyes And then I'm right back, lost in that last goodbye And what if time doesn't do what it's supposed to do? What if I never get over you? What if I gave you (what if I gave you) everything I got? What if your love was my one and only shot? What if I end up with nothing to compare it to What if I never get over? Oh, if I never get over What if I never get over you?What if I never get over you? Oh, what if I never get over? Over you

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #mark tuan imagines #got7 #got7 mark

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gayenerd · 3 years

Text

An interview with music journalist Paul Zollo. I believe this is from 2000. I’m a sucker for Billie Joe talking about his songwriting process.

By PAUL ZOLLO

SEVEN STORIES ABOVE THE SUNSET STRIP in Hollywood is the Chateau Marmont, an old hotel rife with the ghosts and scandals of Hollywood’s recent and not-so-recent past. Famous for the elegant, old-world discretion it affords all its guests, for decades it’s been a safe harbor for stars seeking to circumvent the squall of media surveillance. It’s where John Belushi died, sadly, back in bungalow three, and where Jim Morrison wrecked his back by swinging Tarzan-like from the roof, using a drain pipe as a vine. Every star, it seems, from Chaplin and Bogart to Dylan and Lennon have hidden out here while in Hollywood. “If you must get in trouble, do it at the Chateau Marmont,” Harry Cohn, the first boss of Columbia Studios, once told William Holden.

So it’s an appropriate setting for Billie Joe Armstrong, the lead singer, songwriter and guitarist of Green Day, to be holding court. Armstrong and the band are no strangers to scandal – they’re the ones who started a mudfight that bordered on insurrection at Woodstock II; they’ve been outspoken about their fondness for drugs and alcohol; they’ve been especially harsh in their expressions of scorn for many other bands; and they’ve frequently “redecorated” hotel suites, bars and Tower Records stores alike with a flair for creative demolition that brings to mind the heady decadence of the Doors and others.

In fact, parallels between Armstrong and Jim Morrison abound. Like the leader of the Doors, Billie Joe is the creative catalyst of his group, but only writes within the fold of his fellow musicians. Like Morrison, Armstrong has been known to walk on the razor’s edge of life, bringing an authentic, expansive passion to every song he sings. He’s also been known to match his inclination to strip his soul bare in song by taking off his clothes in concert. The difference is that when Jim Morrison did it, all hell broke loose, the country was shocked and the singer was arrested. But when Billie Joe does it, he gets acknowledged on the MTV news, Kurt Loder smirks, and that’s about that. Being shocking these days is just not like it used to be.

‘It’s something unpredictable,

But in the end is right

I hope you had the time of your life.”

From “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)”

By GREEN DAY

Few things seemed more unpredictable than the thought that Green Day would have a Number One hit with a pretty ballad of all things. Even more unlikely would be that the song, officially entitled “Good Riddance” but better known as “Time Of Your Life,” would become as ubiquitous in the American consciousness as the Star Wars theme. Used on “Seinfeld,” two episodes of “E.R.,” and extraneous sporting events (as when Mark MacGuire became the king of baseball’s home-run derby), Green Day’s ballad quickly became more famous than Green Day itself.

“Good Riddance” now stands alongside Springsteen’s “Born In The USA”, Randy Newman’s “I Love L.A.” and Sting’s “Every Breath You Take,” as one of the nation’s most misappropriated hit singles. Like all of those songs, which are much darker if you examine their core than the mainstream ever seemed to recognize, “Good Riddance” actually comes closer to condemnation than the kind of nostalgic celebration for which it’s been used:

“Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial

For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while

I hope you had the time of your life. “

From “Good Riddance (Time Of Your Life)”

By GREEN DAY

Though Green Day’s presence on the world stage shifted from popular to astronomical because of this song, many of their old fans felt alienated by their secret heroes’ injection into the mainstream. “[`Time of Your Life’] was a drastic change for us to record,” Billie Joe said. “We knew that there were going to be some people that weren’t going to like it because it’s not a 1-2-3-4-Let’s-go-punk-rock tune. Mike [Dirnt] said, `This is a real beautiful song, who cares what people think?’ So we just went for it. Long term thinking, you know. Punk is not just the sound, the music. Punk is a life-style. We’re just as much punk as we used to be.”

Of course, definitions flow fast and fluid, as purveyors of punk, such as Armstrong, play along the borders of pop. “A lot of punk rock bands are always trying to be so hard all of the time,” he said. “Macho brutality doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a good songwriter. I think that some of the Beatles’ songs are way more punk rock than most punk songs written today. Like the song `Yesterday.’ It’s such a bittersweet song. “

Billie Joe was born in 1972 and grew up in Rodeo, a little Californian town just outside of Berkeley. His father and uncle were both jazz drummers. “I was a guitarist in a house of drummers,” he said. His father died when he was ten, the same year he met a neighbor named Mike Pritchard who shared his passion for making music. Together they decided to drop out of high school to start a band, which they called Sweet Children. It was a decision Billie’s mother encouraged. “My mom sort of let me do whatever I wanted,” he said. “When I quit school, she thought that was a good idea because I was really ambitious to play. So I started touring when I was seventeen.”

Pritchard changed his name to Mike Dirnt, Tre Cool replaced Al Sobrante as official drummer, and they called themselves Green Day, a Bay-area euphemism for a day spent smoking pot. Their first release was an indie EP called 1000 Hours, after which they signed with Lookout Records to make 39/Smooth and Kerplunk. In 1994 they ascended to the major leagues, signing with Reprise, and released Dookie. They soon became an MTV mainstay, and their mudstorm performance that year at Woodstock cemented their reputation as a band on the edge. Three more singles followed, as did sales of more than eight million albums worldwide, and a Grammy Award for Best Alternative Music Performance.

Insomniac was released in the fall of ’95, but instead of going on a European tour as planned to launch it, they elected instead to stay home and write and record more songs. The result was the most popular, and most critically acclaimed album of their career, Nimrod, which included “Time Of Your Life.”

Warning was the new album at the time of this interview, and the impetus for Billie to talk. Inspired by the rich lyricism of Springsteen’s The River and Dylan’s Bringing It All Back Home, Green Day went away for a while to write and play the songs before recording them. It’s their first self-produced and most sonically adventurous album to date, blending layers of acoustic guitars in with the electrics, and with some unexpected detours, such as the German beer-hall stomp of “Misery,” and the Clash-meets-Kinks pop-punk of the title song.

“Caution police sign you’d better not cross

Is the cop or am I the one that’s really dangerous?

Sanitation expiration date question everything

Or shut up and be a victim of authority

Warning, live without warning…”

From “Warning”

By GREEN DAY

Today Billie Joe is ensconced within an overstuffed burgundy couch in his hotel suite. Although he’s drinking coffee from china cups, and eating fresh fruit and croissants from a silver tray, he’s remained loyal to the punk lifestyle, and is wearing a black t-shirt and baggy jeans. Prior to our talk, rather than linger in the luxury of his suite, he ducked down into the hotel’s bleak back stairway for a cigarette. Though he’s undeniably a star of the first degree, he’s uncomfortable with such designations, and shuns all the trappings of stardom. As opposed to the Ferraris and Lamborghinis driven by his peers, an old Ford Fairlane remains his vehicle of choice. He did admit to one extravagance, however, which he revealed somewhat sheepishly. “As soon as I could afford it,” he confessed, “I went out and had it primered.”

BLUERAILROAD: You write all the songs together in the band. Do you start songs on your own and bring them in?

BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG: Yeah, sometimes. I’ll come up with the song with the chord changes and the lyrics, and then I bring them into practice, and then we sort of restructure them together. I like to come in with a tune. I’ll just play guitar and sing it for them, and then we start to learn it. And as soon as we start to learn it, we can make changes and come up with a different structure. Move the chorus around, make the verse a little longer. That kind of thing. I definitely like to think of it as a collaboration between the three of us.

Do you always change the songs?

Well, we have a lot of songs. There have been some that I have brought in and nothing really needs to be done. Sometimes I’ll suggest a part that needs to be worked with, and we’ll try some different things. And then they’ll write their bass-lines and drum parts around it.

Do you ever have a problem sharing credit on songs you wrote alone?

Well, we’re a band. We’ve been able to stick through a lot of years because the three of us support each other. The songs come from Green Day, and I like to stick by that. We like to just keep things equal in the band, and I think it’s what has made our band healthy over the years. We give each other respect. There is no one who stands out more than the other one in this group. Especially since we’ve known each other for so long.

These days do you write on electric guitar?

No, on acoustic. I have a Silverine Harmony. But it sounds good. I just have it around the house, so I’ve written most of the songs on it.

Do those songs then shift a lot when you bring them to the band, and play them on electric?

No, because I always have it in the back of my head about the dynamics of electric guitar and drums and bass. Between me and Mike and Tre, I always have that dynamic in my head – what am I going to bring to the table that they’re going to be able to play, and which will have our certain energy. I always keep our energy and our music in mind, sort of subconsciously. But I think that’s the beauty of this. That not only can I play these songs with a band at full volume, but also that I can play them on a cheap, acoustic guitar. And it can have the same kind of impact.

“Warning” would work that way.

Yeah, it does. That kind of came all together at the same time. I think lyrics on this record were really important to me, and to have a well-rounded record as far as what kind of topics I wanted to write about, and sing about. That was one of those songs that seemed to just write itself. It just came really naturally.

Is that unusual for you, the feeling that a song writes itself?

Well, I try to go for inspired moments. But if I want to write a song that sounds like it has a pop kind of edge to it, I really want to be able to say something. I have to say something – it’s vital for me. I can’t just write something that would be sugar-coated, and have a pop song with nice lyrics that go along with what everyone is doing on the radio these days. It’s very important for me to have a message that goes along with the writing. So, you know, what comes to mind for me is a song like “The Ballad of John & Yoko,” where [Lennon] had this really nice sounding song. But the lyrics penetrate like a knife. “They’re gonna crucify me…” That’s kind of nice way — nice, I mean, in an oxymoronic sense – to put forward something you want to attack.

You’ve done that in many songs.

Yeah, I think it adds a sort of demented side a little bit, sort of like a clown in a circus. But it also makes the lyrics a lot stronger. If you take a band like Rage Against The Machine, the music is aggressive, and the lyrics are aggressive at the same time. And I love Rage Against The Machine, but sometimes it feels like you getting bombarded by someone’s else’s point of view. The person is not telling you to think, but what to think. And that’s one thing that I really wanted to come across in the music and the lyrics. To think about the world around you, and not what to think, so to speak. And at the same time, to have my opinions coming through at the same time.

Are you always clear about the meaning of a song while writing?

No. That’s hard. I mean, sometimes I’ll have things in the back of my head that I want to write about. But I never want to come across as pretentious or preachy. So I just wait for my thoughts to settle. To a certain extent, you have to be a little self-righteous and I think it’s healthy. Especially when, nowadays, there’s so much stuff that is about decadence. And when it comes to rebellion, a guy who has a Rolex watch and is driving around in a Porsche, talking about that he really wants something to break, I don’t really think of that as rebellion, I think of that just as a decadent rock star.

Do you have any kind of routine for songwriting?

Last record I was just sort of pounding songs. Anytime I had any inkling of an idea of anything at all, I would just grab my guitar and play it and work on it no matter what the song was like. Whether it was inspired or I just got drunk and started playing. But this time I waited for inspired moments. And I think it took me a long time just because of that. I wanted everything to sound refreshing, and something that would make you want to turn it up a little more.

Did you have times when you tried to work and nothing would come?

Oh yeah. You get frustrated. You feel, “Man, I just want to write a fucking song.” And sometimes it’s just not there. And you can’t dwell on that when that happens. You have to just let it go.

I don’t ever want to try to outdo myself. I feel like if you try to outdo yourself from the last thing, instead of just working on your inspiration, I think the music kind of suffers a little bit, sometimes. Sometimes I’ll just get a very general idea about the kind of song I want to write. And I’ll just sort of store it in the back of my mind and see what comes out. It can come out in five minutes, it can come out in five days, five years, five decades.

Are there songs you worked on for years?

Yeah. “Longview” was one that we worked on for years. We knew what we wanted to write about. I told Mike to write a bass line and one day I came home. This is when we lived in the same house. He had just dropped some acid (laughs) and he said, “Listen to this.” And I said, “Okay, I guess it sounds good.” He came up with this bass line that really worked well, so we ended up practicing and came up with the song.

Are there many songs you start that you don’t finish?

Yes. And I’ll just wait for the right time and the right place for it. There are some songs I finish but then I think it’s not right for the record we’re working on. There’s a couple of songs like that off of Nimrod. “Time of My Life” had been written a couple of years before.

That song resounded in enormously with the public. Was it just a fluke, or did you sit down with the intention of writing that kind of song?

Both. I think that anyone can sit down and write a song. Whether or not it’s any good is another thing altogether. You know, there’s no school you can go to that will help you learn how to become a songwriter. But you can sit down and do it. Especially with rock & roll. But to put something down that is actually really great, it does go beyond you a little bit, and sometimes it takes patience.

Do you write all the time?

Yeah. Whether it’s good or bad, I don’t know. Or if it’s appropriate for what kind of idea or sound that we want to get across on the record.

Where do you think the great songs come from?

I don’t know. I really don’t. It comes from somewhere deep down inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. It’s kind of like seeing a shrink or something. (Laughs) There can be a lot of anger, or sadness, or joy, that you had but you didn’t even know you really had – but it can all come out. You feel a connection with it, and so other people can, too. You strike a nerve.

Does songwriting get easier the more you do it?

I think so. I think you definitely learn more as you go. I think you find new ways to motivate yourself. You test yourself a little bit more and see what comes about. And you challenge yourself in new ways to see what comes out. You learn new ways to get the engines going. But whether or not it does get easier, it’s what I do. And I love doing it.

#'I don’t ever want to try to outdo myself'#HE'S SUCH A FUCKING LIAR #at least he knows the music suffers from it #BUT HE'S A GODDAMN LIAR #article #articles #interview #billie joe armstrong

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bard-llama · 3 years

Note

Would you ever write in epistolary format?

My creative writing teachers would be so sad that I had to google that, but for any people like me, this means written in a document format, such as letters.

And the answer is definitely yes! I actually have a WiP I started waaaaaaaay back for rorveth that is sorta this, although I was torn on if I wanted it to be just letters or letters interspersed with POV exposition. But I looooove letter fics. Like, one of my most memorable fics I've written was back in like 2010 and I named it after Joe Cocker's song "Oh My Baby, He Wrote Me A Letter". This was for the BBC Merlin fandom, so not sure that's interesting to anyone, but I really remember that one, for some reason. And letters are FUN to write!

Just 'cause, here's the beginning of the letters WiP I started for rorveth (appropriately titled 'letters' XD).

The first letter arrived in an unremarkable fashion, just one more piece of parchment on the already messy desk of Vernon Roche, the new Imperial Administrator of the Vassal State of Temeria. After everything he’d fought for, he’d certainly never expected to be stuck behind a desk. The one saving grace of the job was that Ves was still his right-hand-woman and when she got tired of the paperwork, no one told her to put the knife away.

Then again, it would take a very brave man to challenge Ves, and Roche had yet to see any do so successfully.

But the letter – it was entirely mundane, nothing noteworthy about it whatsoever. From the outside, anyway. Roche wasn’t even sure which aide had left it on his desk when. But when he picked up the letter and flipped it over to break the seal, he noticed that the wax had a flower pressed into it, some sort of blue blossom that he didn’t recognize. Roche’s brow furrowed. What an odd choice for a seal.

Things only got stranger when he cut through the wax and read the letter itself. It was only one word: Kingslayer.

Roche stiffened. If this was a threat, it was an effective one. Not that Radovid was the first king he’d killed, but King Henselt had long since passed into memory in the quickly-changing political landscape of the north.

Realistically, if someone knew about their plot against Radovid, there was little they could do with it. Roche had no doubt that Emperor Emhyr was already very aware of Roche’s actions – Nilfgaard’s spies were impressive, and that was about all he could say in support of the empire – and the fucker had made Roche head of Temeria anyway. It wouldn’t be great if the people of Temeria found out about it, but Radovid had never been a true ally. Besides, if word did get out and he was removed from office, he would finally be able to get back in the field.

Please? he absentmindedly sent the prayer to whatever deity might be paying attention. Nilfgaard had different gods than the Northern Kingdoms did, and Roche had seen so much of war that it was hard to believe there could be any higher being out there, but at some point, it had become habit to frame the thoughts he wasn’t supposed to have as prayers.

He flipped the letter over to look at the wax seal again. Who the fuck would send him a threat – was it a threat? – and seal it with a flower?

Actually, that was a stupid question. The real question was why would the elf reach out to him at all? Roche hadn’t had contact with the Scoia’tael since Loc Muinne, when Temeria’s future was essentially handed to Nilfgaard and suddenly all that mattered was protecting his homeland. He hadn’t – well, he hadn’t exactly told Iorveth that he was abandoning the fight against nonhumans to fight against Nilfgaard (for all the good that had done), but he had seen the elf only once since then. Iorveth had left the very clear impression that it would be the last time.

In retrospect, Roche could see how being told that “the only thing that matters is Temeria” might be insulting to someone who had been fighting for a free elven state for decades. Nonetheless, he couldn’t take the words back and from the way Iorveth’s face had gone cold and stony the moment the words had left Roche’s mouth, and the way Iorveth had turned and left without a word – well, Roche had honestly assumed that the elf was done with him.

He’d ignored the complicated way he felt about that for years, but now suddenly, Iorveth’s decision to reach out – is that what this was? – had his mind going back to that day. He’d been in so much pain at the time, the loss of his men and his own treasonous actions fresh in his thoughts and weighing down on him. Iorveth had found him packing up his camp on his way back to Vizima, catching Roche entirely by surprise.

If he’d been less off balance then, would things have gone differently? At the time, he hadn’t known the hole Iorveth’s absence would leave in his life, the aching sense of being adrift without a sense of purpose, without the thing whose opposition had defined him. He had always been Vernon Roche, Commander of the Blue Stripes, Authority on all Nonhuman Affairs. And even after he’d become Vernon Roche, Freedom Fighter, he’d never quite adjusted the definition of himself, never quite learned how to be Roche without Iorveth on the other side of his coin.

Maybe that was why Iorveth was reaching out. Maybe he felt the same, felt aimless and pointless now that Nilfgaard had taken over everything and nonhumans were given the same respect and rights as humans. Maybe Iorveth was also stuck behind some desk, fingers that were meant to hold a sword cramping around a too-delicate quill.

Roche shook his head and then rubbed his face. If he let his thoughts continue in that direction, he’d be too miserable to get anything done. What he needed was a quick break to splash some water on his face and then to get back to work. Because even if Roche was a remnant of a bygone age, Temeria was still everything, and he would serve his homeland however he was needed. Even if it slowly killed him inside.

When he returned to his desk, the letter still sat there innocently, words face-down because he wasn’t that careless. But that meant he was faced with the little blue flower pressed into white wax. It was actually rather pretty, though only an elf would do a ridiculous thing like seal a letter with one.

He should throw it away or burn it or otherwise dispose of the letter that named his crime, but instead, Roche found himself filing it in his desk, hidden under a stack of parchment. He could always get rid of it later.

––

The next letter arrived about a week later. As soon as Roche saw that little blue flower seal, his heart started to beat faster and he reached for it immediately. He broke the wax and unfolded the letter to find that this time, Iorveth hadn’t limited himself to one word. Instead, he’d filled the parchment with his oddly shaky handwriting and when Roche lifted it to his nose, he could catch the faint herbal scent of gin underneath the sweet floral smell. If Iorveth had been drinking while writing, it would certainly explain the bad handwriting. But why would Iorveth drunkenly write him, of all people?

He bit his lip and wondered where Iorveth was now. Even if he knew and tried to respond, he wouldn’t know what to say to Iorveth after all this time. He couldn’t regret the decisions he’d made, as fruitless as they may have ended up being. Being Temerian was such a core part of his identity that Roche could never have done anything else.

Still, he almost feared what Iorveth may have written in his inebriated state. It wasn’t as if the elf hadn’t insulted him extensively to his face. Why should he care if the same words made their way onto this parchment?

But he did care. Their last meeting had broken something deep inside him, something he wasn’t ready to examine yet. He would rather be faced with the memory of Iorveth turning away from him, face blank, and never saying a word as he left for the very last time, than to know that even now, Iorveth’s hatred for Roche sustained him.

Roche himself was just too tired for hate anymore. Maybe that was the point of this ridiculous administrative role – to make him so exhausted and docile that he was no longer a threat. Roche wouldn’t put it past Emhyr to plan such a thing.

Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and read the letter.

I wonder if it still brings you pride, to know that you’ve won. The Scoia’tael are no more. My men are gradually being reintroduced into society – Nilfgaardian society, of course. The same Nilfgaard that declared us traitors and tried to assassinate us after the Peace of Cintra. It makes me sick to bear the Golden Sun on my armor, and yet, my men are finally free or as close as we will ever get. I should be happy – the Scoia’tael are no more because there is no longer a need for us.

So why do I wish we were still in the forests outside Flotsam, fighting a never ending bloody battle?

It ended like that, abruptly, though from the link blots below the last words, Roche suspected Iorveth had debated saying more.

What was he supposed to do with this? What good was the knowledge that Iorveth was just as miserable as he was, just as desperate for a return to when things made sense and the lines between this side and that one were clear?

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #the witcher #ask game #writing #my fics

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edgythought · 4 years

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Strangers in the Bar I

Part II | Part III

Alex Turner x OC (I guess??)

Description: Two lonely people observe each other in a bar. It leads to something nice. Word count: 2,294

Warning: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking.

A/N: It is not my first fanfic, but the first one I post here. Hope y'all enjoy and leave me some comments! This was written in April-May 2019, when I was strongly fascinated with Alex, but I can't say I thought about him while writing, so it's not really a fanfiction piece. Anyway, it's up to you to decide how to interpret this. I would love to receive feedback! Thank you for reading :)

Part I

Sunny Los Angeles in the middle of spring was an oasis of happiness, just as I thought it would be, no disappointment here. A whirlwind of events brought me here somehow and I am not mad at all. I always thought I am a New York kinda girl, strolling through the parks and skyscrapers, sipping my shit-load-of-spice latte, day (and night-) dreaming. You know, all the Great Gatsby vibes as well, but I am not into loud sounds unless I am at some concert dancing my lower back off.

My friends, who live in LA, gave a nice tour of the city and at the end of the day I am finding myself totally drained physically at the bar in the middle of nowhere (LA area). We had some cocktails with lads and even danced to a couple of extra popular Dua Lipa’s songs and a numerous amount of hispanic hits. It was great. Gals were tired, just as I was, so they went home, assuring me my hotel is 10 blocks away and an Uber would be totally affordable. Not that I am poor or something, but I always was cautious with money and my friends know I might come off as a cheapskate from time to time. So I felt fine to stay a little bit more and contemplate the infamous LA nightlife with my own eyes. Even if it’s only one bar of hundreds and not even the fanciest one.

It was over an hour since my friends left me and I was on my third Brandy Alexander when a strange man caught my attention. Moonage Daydream by a genius Bowie was playing extra loudly and he was moving his hips and lip-syncing so theatrically I couldn’t force myself to stop watching him. He was so into the music he never actually noticed he was looked at by everyone in the bar. A bartender who I cracked a couple of jokes with had a little smile on his face watching the dude and I asked “What? You like him?”. The reply I got shook me to the core: “Everyone likes him, although he is not very talkative. Nothing wrong with a dude fancying to dance a little, right?”. I turned a bit to acquire a better view on the dance floor; (the bartender’s remark made me actually watch the guy enjoying himself). He looked stunning, to be honest, but also weird, in a positive way. Long, slightly curly hair was always in his eyes, so he had to shake his head pretty often. White shirt, half-unbuttoned, gold chain, a couple of rings. He looked like a high (-profile) rockstar. (Exactly what I expected to see, but haven’t yet) His pants were really tight, though…

He was definitely interesting to pay attention to, but the song ended and I found myself staring a little too hard at the dude, so I thought it would be nice to chill a bit outside. I waved at the bartender that I will go out, took my glass and strolled through the crowd to the exit. Californian twilight was full of smells and sounds, with people chattering, cars beeping, birds singing their mysterious tunes, everything coming together with the smell of warm concrete, cigarettes and different spirits. I lit my cigarette and took a deep breath, watching the sky change colours from light bubblegum pink to pastel turquoise and dark blue, with some stars peeking through a light dim of clouds on my right. There was something about it that made me feel lighter a bit, free from the burdens of my everyday life. The contrast of the sky and dark silhouettes of trees and buildings reminded me I am not actually alone. I took another deep breath, inhaling the smoke, and hold it for a couple of seconds. I exhaled and watched the smoke twirl in front of my face. It always fascinated me how such a deadly thing can also be so beautiful. Just like love. I brushed those thoughts off of my mind, that’s not a way to have a good time. Actually, I was quite in the mood to show off some moves on the dance floor if the music fits. I am not really into hispanic tunes, just not my cup of tea. I threw away the butt and finished my drink in one go. I have nothing to lose, right?…

As I returned to the bar, I looked for the dancing dude in the crowd but he was nowhere to be found. Sad, I thought to myself, we could have had a really nice mute dance together. Anyway, I needed another drink to become a part of the dancing people, so I went straight to the bar. “Mind pouring me another one, darling?”, I asked my bartender as he was washing some shakers and spoons. “I don’t mind at all, what do you want?” - “The dancing juice you gave that guy in a very tight jeans” - “Gotcha, sweetheart” he chuckled and strolled away to the small freezer at the back. My heart was heavy and my breath trembled a bit. It’s always like that when I know I am about to do some stupid shit and then regret it the morning after. Even though I knew, I never stopped myself from doing it because it’s fun, right? At this point I just wanted to lift off the weight of my life off my shoulders and have fun, whatever it means, really.

The Bartender (why I never asked for his name? He looks like Josh to me…) came back with several bottles in his hands. “Hey, I guessed you want to dance, so I decided to help you not only by getting you drunk” - “Yeah? What are you going to do?” - “I already did, next song is for you”, he smiled and winked at me. I laughed and turned around to check if the dancing guy appeared, while I wait for the Bartender to fuel me with whatever he mixed. After torturous couple of seconds I saw the dude come out the restroom, hand running through his hair in a desperate attempt to make it not stick to his sweaty forehead. I wanted him present when I dance because I felt something while watching him being bonkers on the dance floor and it gave me some confidence to try it myself. He proceeded through the crowd to the bar and gestured the Bartender to come over. As I already was sipping on my “dancing juice” I started to feel the urge to do something, not to stay on my stool and right then I heard a starting riff of the song the Bartender put on for me. I knew the song, I used to listen to it a lot when I was younger, during my first year at Uni. Oh so many memories, so many parties… I sip the drink once more and put it a little too hard on the bar, then take off my jacket and leave on the stool I was occupying. The riffs were becoming louder and the dancing dude was smiling. What was he smiling at?

I was already on the dance floor, waving my head like a heroin-infused Mick Jagger look-alike.

Stop making the eyes at me I’ll stop making my eyes at you

I catch myself looking right at the dancing dude, like I am talking to him. His eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows a bit, surprised with attention.

And what it is that surprises me Is that I don't really want you to

I winked at him and turned around to stroll through a sheer dancing crowd a little further from him and closer to my stuff I left unattended. (I shouldn’t have to worry though, the Bartender was looking after it for me)

And your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night) Oh but you're an explosion (you're dynamite)

I shuddered as if I was actually cold and looked at him again, lip-syncing "you're an explosion" right at him. He started laughing and cheered me with his drink. The Bartender leaned over to tell him something, like they were long-time friends and I was surprised but not in the mood to waste my time thinking about that, it's not my business. So I continued with my crazy moves and weird poses.

Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand Lighting the fuse might result in a bang, with a bang-go!

I felt him watching me with my back but I just didn't want to please him by looking at him. What a man, I thought, but what am I doing? The music was so encouraging to remember all the crazy shit that it was a soundtrack for, I managed to stick my worries to the back of my head and actually enjoy myself for the first time in long months.

I bet that you look good on the dance floor I don't know if your looking for romance or I don't know what you're looking for I said I bet that you look good on the dance floor Dancing to electro-pop like a robot from 1984 From 1984!

Now, I told myself and turned around to watch the dancing dude talk to the Bartender. I actually thought they were talking about me because the Bartender kept his eyes on me all the time the dude was telling him something. When he finished speaking, he glanced at me and I used the moment to sing "I bet that you look good on the dance floor" to him from afar. I was sure he saw it. I smiled, continuing moving my hips to the sound of music and trying to impersonate a robot from 1984. I knew he was watching me despite the very much dim lighting of the bar, coming from neon signs and candles on the tables mostly. The only light place was the bar itself, so I could see the dude, while he couldn't see much of me. But I know he saw, I was pretty close to the bar anyway.

I wish you'd stop ignoring me Because you're sending me to despair Without a sound yeah you're calling me And I don't think it's very fair That your shoulders are frozen (cold as the night) Oh but you're an explosion (you're dynamite) Your name isn't Rio, but I don't care for sand Lighting the fuse might result in a bang, with a bang-go!

I came right up to him, singing the words to him, wanting to catch his attention and drag him to the dance floor with me. I didn't care if he wants it or not, he better come with me. The dude was really impressed and started laughing, but I took his hand in mine and pulled a bit for him to get up. He threw a quick glance at the Bartender, who nodded and laughed at us. The dude gave up and followed me. We somehow appeared to be at the very center, dancing and jumping like crazy. We sang the entire chorus at the top of our lungs, pointing at each other and dancing like robots. He did it hilariously and I couldn't stop laughing.

Oh there ain't no love no, Montagues or Capulets Just banging tunes 'n' DJ sets 'n' Dirty dancefloors and dreams of naughtiness!

He played his imaginary guitar and banged his head like he was actually playing the song at some gig and I was pretty taken aback how rockstar-ish he looked at that moment. He sang "dreams of naughtiness" way out of the range and was looking at me while I was imitating thrusts with my hips and we fell to our knees laughing right after.

When the song ended we were absolutely out of breath, but both of us smiled widely. As we proceeded to the bar, a slow song started playing. The dude stopped for a moment, bit his lip and offered me his hand.

Do you know what it feels like to dance alone? Do you know what it feels like?

I looked at him with zero understanding what's going on but placed my had in his open palm. He dragged me gently back to the dance floor.

His hand was on my waist and it felt very comfortable. At the moment I felt like we know each other for eternity, not less, and I still didn't know his name. He organically moved us both, whispering the lyrics in my ear, spinning me around, holding my hand, looking me in the eyes. He smelled like a very expensive cologne, cigarettes and a bit of healthy sweat - an unforgettable combination to be embraced in.

When the lights are turned too low for me In the dark I feel you close to me You're the one that I want to see

At this point we were barely moving, my hands around his neck, his hands on my waist; we just looked each other in the eyes, trying to find something we're missing… The song was just about to end when we both rushed forward a bit and split our dancing hug awkwardly. We proceeded to the bar and I finished my cocktail looking for an explanation to what happened. I closed my eyes, capturing those moments we shared with that strange man in my mind. Finally, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to catch a look from the Bartender. In a slight haze, I turned around searching for the dancing dude, but he vanished without a trace, although he was right by my side a minute ago. Disappointed, I asked for a receipt, paid and went straight out.

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eleanorbloom · 4 years

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[OH] When You’re Ready Ch. 03

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of the Open Heart World. The name Eleanor Bloom and her story was created by me, though.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning: Angst, adult language, and smut.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go of Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce's plans.

A/N: Thank you so much for all your kind words and your support.

I have the urge to remind you all that English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. As a perfectionist, I’ve been having a hard time trying to make this fic the more comprehensible as it can be. I know my English doesn’t suck, that your people understand what I write (lol) but I’m sure there are some idioms or, I don’t know, the order of the words that may seem off, and I can't help but feel bad about it. Just know that this happens because I’m a Spanish speaker trying to write a fanfic in English.

That’ll be all. Lots of love to my readers

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! :)

Taglist: @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @laiba-the-person @choicesficwriterscreations @shanzay44

______

Chapter Three: All I Ask.

It matters how this ends

‘Cause what if I never love again?

Eleanor walked into the locker room feeling her heart in her throat, a knot threatening to make her explode with rage and bitterness once again. When she reached for her locker, she found Sienna already fully dressed to leave Edenbrook.

“Oh my god, Ellie, are you okay?!” Sienna inquired as she perceived the mortified expression on her face.

“I’m not”

“What happened? Did you… Did you speak with Dr. Ramsey?”

“I did”

“And?”

Eleanor couldn’t help but let a few tears stream down her face, but she managed to avoid the sob.

“He’s going to the Amazon with the WHO”

“What?! Oh my god, that’s big”

"And he’s leaving tomorrow”

“Oh no. Ellie, I’m so sorry ”

Suddenly, all traces of sadness and rage disappeared from her. She wiped the tears off her face and cleared her throat.

“Don’t be. Let’s get outta here, I need a drink”

"Okay, I’ll text the others to meet at Donahue’s”

Sienna eyed Eleanor with concern. She wanted to tell her to stop suppressing her feelings, to stop pretending she didn’t care, but she preferred to keep it quiet, hoping that at some point she would explode and let everything out. Because she had spent all those weeks pretending that she didn’t care, that it didn’t hurt to ignore Ramsey, that it didn’t hurt that he didn’t care that she was ignoring him. Nearly five months of pent-up emotions.

An hour later, Eleanor was at Donahue’s with Bryce and her new best friend, the vodka. Elijah was with Phoebe choosing a few songs on the jukebox to dance to; Sienna was with Danny and other nurses playing darts and Jackie and Rafael were deep in conversation at the bar. Bryce had noticed her mood but didn’t want to ask her directly, since he guessed who was responsible. Instead, he preferred to join her to drink, without judging that she was almost drinking the entire bottle of vodka by herself without any coyness, although he was willing to make her stop when it became dangerous for her health.

Suddenly, Eleanor’s face sparkled with fury. Bryce turned to check the source of her discomfort, knowing perfectly well who it was. Ethan was at the bar talking to Reggie as he took a seat.

“You’re so predictable, Ethan Ramsey"—She muttered as she took the shot of vodka in one sip—"I bet he’ll have a couple of shots, waiting for the moment when I’m alone, and if doesn’t find me alone he’ll just switch to some non-alcohol drink because he will have to wait for me until I decide to go home. All that wait just to cry apologies for something he didn’t want to say, but said anyway”

Bryce smirked as he heard her rant.

"Do you want me to leave you alone so you can talk to him?”

“No! No, please, I don’t want to make it that easy for him. I want to see what he’s capable of. If he’s just going to be a shitty wary that’s going to expect to find me alone, or if he’s able to get right up to me. Please don’t leave me alone, Bryce.

“Don’t worry, Elle, I won’t leave you alone if that’s what you want”

“Thank you, Bryce. You are the best”

“I know I am. Cheers for that”

They clanged their glasses and took another shot.

“Why are you so mad, by the way?”

Eleanor told him their talk with the details that only a drunk and upset person can do it.

“So, he’s leaving then? And he didn’t even tell you?”

“No. He didn’t want to tell me”

“Oof, what a douche. Hun, why do you let him treat you like this?”

“I don't know. I don’t know why I have allowed this torment for so long. But I got tired. I don’t care anymore. If he stays, if he goes. I don’t know why should I care when he has never cared for how bad I’ve been all this time”

Bryce looked at her with a sad expression. He hated to see Eleanor that way. Crying, hopeless. Suffering. He took her hand tenderly.

“Eleanor, I’m so sorry”—He said, caressing the back of her hand—“You don’t deserve anything you’re going through. It’s okay to be angry, you can’t allow him to treat you like that”

“I know”—She replied in a tiny voice.

“And you can’t keep wasting your time with someone who doesn’t value you, Elle. He may love you, but if he really valued you, he wouldn’t treat you like that. He wouldn’t let you suffer like that”

Bryce stroked her cheek, looking right into her tear-filled eyes.

“You’re right, Bryce"—She stared right into his eyes without looking away, then wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“You deserve the world, Eleanor”

She couldn’t help but give him a big smile as her cheeks flushed.

Then she turned her gaze to the bar and realized that Ethan was with a tense posture making glances toward their table. Seeing Eleanor cry and be comforted by Bryce surely challenged his nerves more than he was willing to admit.

About fifteen minutes later, her friends began to return to the table to start the Karaoke session. They had fun with some of their favorite songs and other classics requested by other clients. Then was Eleanor’s turn to sing a song. She felt a twist on her stomach.

“Eleanor, it’s your turn, what did you request?”

“All I Ask”—She replied to Elijah, simply.

Everyone at the table stared at her.

"Eleanor…"—Bryce whispered—"Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. I’m done hiding my feelings, pretending he didn’t hurt me just to make him feel the less uncomfortable”

The melody began to play, and Eleanor already felt her heart shatter without even having started the first line. Her friends stared at her for a few moments and then looked away at the awkward situation that was coming.

“I will leave my heart at the door

I won’t say a word

They’ve all been said before, you know”

Eleanor was heartbroken and drunk, and practically putting on a show in front of all Donahue’s, but deep down her friends knew that that was what Eleanor needed right now, to release all her feelings in front of Ethan, though not directly. Because Eleanor had been holding back all these months, resisting love, the desire to be with Ethan, resisting the urge to stand in his office or his home and ask him once again to stop pushing her away and to be together once and for all, more times than she had already done. She had swallowed the love, the pride, the pain in inhuman ways. But what had happened today was the culmination of too many repressed feelings, and if her way of finding catharsis was through the saddest, cheesiest, and most heartbreaking song Adele had ever written, then so be it.

“So why don’t we just play pretend

Like we’re not scared of what is coming next

Or scared of having nothing left”

Eleanor took all the courage she had and turned her gaze to Ethan, who was staring at her with the most mortifying look she had ever seen on him, and she had seen plenty: When Dolores passed away, when he found out Banerji had a month to live. He was not holding anything, the pain, the guilt, the embarrassment.

“Look, don't get me wrong

I know there is no tomorrow

All I ask is

If this is my last night with you

Hold me like I’m more than just a friend

Give me a memory I can use

Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do

It matters how this ends

‘Cause what if I never love again?”

At least Eleanor had a very good voice to sing the songs of Adele, so she wasn’t embarrassing herself too badly. Of course, she was not as good as Adele herself but made a few good notes, and the alcohol had given her too much courage to go for the high pitches, and the anger gave her too much feeling to sing with such a passion, that she astonished to all her friends. She was actually killing it.

-"I don’t need your honesty

It’s already in your eyes

And I’m sure my eyes, they speak for me

No one knows me like you do

Eleanor looked directly at Ethan again.

And since you’re the only one that mattered

Tell me who do I run to?"

The words came out with such rage from her core, that Ethan felt as if she had said it a few inches from him, and not indirectly through a song and standing several feet away from him. And he felt every one of her words, every look, every drop of anger and sadness. He acknowledged receipt of all this and accepted his responsibility. He felt broken at the sight of her because he wanted to do so much to ease her pain. But he couldn’t.

After the song was over, Eleanor returned to her place with tears on her face but not one iota of embarrassment.

“Eleanor, that was truly beautiful”—Sienna said, tears on her face too—"Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling better, I think it took a lot of weight off my shoulders”

“That is the important thing”

“You were very brave”—Bryce said caressing her back.

“Guys, I just ridiculed myself in front of the whole bar and you guys are treating me like I’ve won a war”

“You did something for yourself that you should have done months ago. Show how you really feel”—Sienna replied, serious.

“Well…”

“We are proud of you, Eleanor”— Elijah added.

“It’s about damn time you take care of yourself and don’t let Ramsey do whatever the fuck he wants”—Continued Jackie.

“Even if that means to sing a sad song in front of him”—Concluded Sienna.

After that, Eleanor was in a better mood and managed to distract herself from all she had been through that day. However, the presence of Ethan, sitting there at the bar, probably waiting for her, was a latent nuisance in her stomach.

A few hours later, Eleanor and her friends decided to go home. The moment she passed by his side, Ethan got up from his seat and walked towards her.

“Rookie”.

His disposition had changed from hell to heaven. She was no longer Dr. Bloom. She was Rookie again.

“What is it, Dr. Ramsey?”

Ethan looked at her sadly at the coldness in her response.

“Can we talk?”

Eleanor looked away to the floor, anger washing over her again. Then she looked back at him, who was waiting for her answer with pleading eyes.

“About what? I’m going home”

“I know … I-“

“I’ve been here the last four hours, I’m sure you could’ve looked for me in all this time… But obviously you waited for me to want to go home to do it?”

Ethan knew she was berating him. She shook her head.

“I was hoping you weren’t such a coward and would look for me directly. But you behave like a shy teenager who has never spoken to a woman in his life”

“Eleanor, are you coming?”—Jackie asked.

Her friends were at the door, first-hand witnesses of her exchange with Ethan.

“No, I stay. Don’t worry about me”

Eleanor looked at Ramsey coldly. They took a seat in the back of the bar so no one could hear them.

“So? I thought we were done”—She broke the silence between them.

“No, we are not done, Eleanor”

Ethan lowed her head, pondering his words.

“If… If I didn’t tell you about my trip to the Amazon, was because I wanted to make things less difficult for us. The last time we spoke I made myself clear that we can’t be together not because I don’t want to, but because we can’t. And when I noticed you started to avoid me, I thought maybe you finally understood my point, and I was okay with that”

“Then why you threw all over my face that I was ignoring you, like you weren’t okay with that?”

“Because I realized that you didn’t do it because you understood my point. You did it to piss me off. To return the favor. As vengeance. So, if you did actually ignore me with that motive in mind, you didn’t have the right to reclaim something from me”

“I…”—Her cheeks turned red.

“That’s not the point now, Eleanor”—He interrupted—"What I’m trying to say is… You can’t stop saying that everything I’ve done it’s because I want it, that I’m responsible of all your misery. But let me be clear. I don’t want it, Eleanor. I don’t want to be apart from you, I don’t want to ignore you. I’ve never wanted to spend the last five months ignoring your existence, not be able to talk to you, not to even look at you”

Eleanor observed his features, tracing all sense of honesty and determination. She knew he wasn’t lying or playing the victim.

“I’m not comfortable with this”—He continued—"I’m not okay with that but if that’s what allows me to be away from you to not interfere in your career, I’m willing to do that and more. I know it’s painful for you, that it’s not the best option for both of us. But this is the only way I can cope up with the situation”

“The only way… Ethan, are you sure not talking to me, not even looking at me the is the only option?”

“To me, it is”—He responded categorically—Eleanor, what I want is to be with you. If I could, I would’ve never let you leave my bed the first time we made love, or I would’ve never get up from your bed the last time we were together. If I could, I would live in that dream all my life. But I can’t”

Tears started to stream down her face. Again. His words broke her in million pieces. Because she couldn’t stop reliving those nights in all these months. Now she was realizing Ethan couldn’t either.

“I need you to understand that I’ve never wanted to hurt you. If my actions have hurt you, I’m sorry, but I mean it when I say I’ve never wanted anything of this to happen. I would love to make you happy in the ways you want. Believe me. But you have fought so hard to be here, Eleanor. Years to get to be at Edenbrook. Years and especially difficult months to get the Junior Fellow position. I can’t let you jeopardize your career nor your reputation”

Eleanor was speechless. She felt dumb, like a stupid teenager that let herself go on emotions and never thought through the real meaning of all his actions. She still felt a little pissed off, because there were still a lot of things Ethan should have avoided telling her and that were mean. But everything else he had done was… reasonable. Fair. Thoughtful.

“Ethan… I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. I feel embarrassed about how childish I was today”

“No, Eleanor. I still believe that you have every right to be mad at me because I didn’t tell you I would be out. I always knew I should’ve told you, but I was afraid. I’m a coward as you said. I didn’t want to face this conversation. Your pain. But you deserved more”

Eleanor nod.

“Well, yeah. You should’ve told me. But I made an outburst. I didn’t want to listen to you, I was being stubborn just to get what I want, but maybe I’ve never really put myself in your shoes”

“That’s all I ask. To understand why I’m doing this from my point of view”

Suddenly, Reggie approaches.

“Ethan, I’m sorry, but we are about to close”

“Thank you, Reggie”

Eleanor grabbed her purse and walked to the door followed by Ethan.

Eleanor turned to him.

“I believe you when you tell me you’ve never wanted to hurt me by staying away from me. But there have been plenty of times when you have hurt me by behaving like a dick to me, unnecessarily. Because one thing is avoiding to talk to me, but you have ignored me, you have been cruel, you have looked at me like you hate me”

“Yes. I know. I hope you can forgive me one day”

“I could forgive you, but I’ll only do it when I feel assured that you won’t do it again and I think there’s not enough time for that now”

Ethan stared without saying a word. He knew he couldn’t promise her that. He knew himself.

“Well, I think you can go in peace now that we have left everything clear, don’t we? Have a nice flight, I hope the mission is a success and you return safely. Bye”

Eleanor started to walk down the street to get a taxi.

“Why are you leaving like that? You’re not even going to say goodbye?”

“I said bye. That’s a goodbye. Or was it too informal? Goodbye Dr. Ramsey. There you have”

Ethan took her arm, forcing her to look into his eyes. Hers were reddened, tired, anguished. Like she was holding a ton of pain on her mind.

“Eleanor…”

“What, Ethan, what?“—She answered as her voice was breaking. She didn’t want him to go. But she had to let him go. To let that goodbye lingering more than necessary would only do her more harm than it had already done her.

“Let me take you home”

No. She would lose her mind if she let that happen. But she wanted it so bad.

“You were drinking”

“I drank whiskey when I arrived, after that, just lemonade, because I figured I’d have to wait until the end of the night to talk to you”

She wanted so bad to be with him as much time as possible. But she was trying to respect Ethan's intentions. But… He was leaving tomorrow. That was the last time she would see him in god knows how much time.

“Okay, let's go”—She agreed.

They walked silently back to the hospital, where Ethan had his car parked. The journey was silent. Ethan didn’t even dare to turn on the radio. They were only accompanied by the noise of the engine and other vehicles traveling through the streets of Boston at 3 am.

Eleanor wanted to say so many things, but it would make everything worse. So she lost herself in the smell of his car. Every time she sensed that smell on someone’s car o in any place, it reminded her of him.

She had always had a particularly olfactory memory, and although most of the time it brought her good memories of her childhood or adolescence, in terms of relationships it always brought her bittersweet memories, melancholy, regret.

She knew that smell—The smell of Ethan’s car, a scent of pine and musk—, or his smell — a fresh citric scent—would only bring her pain.

Ethan parked outside the apartment. The street was lonely, no one could be seen in the distance, and the only sound was the murmur of cars passing by the main avenue. A lump wove in her throat. She was afraid.

Eleanor turned to him to say goodbye. She wanted to make it simple. She could swear that she wanted to make it simple.

“Have a good trip, Ethan, I hope you get back safely”—She spoke softly as she hugged him.

"Thank you, Eleanor”

“Text me to know that you arrived safely, please”—Eleanor asked, looking straight into his eyes. Those sky-blue eyes that were always the beginning of all her madness.

Ethan caressed the nape of her neck with his thumb and then he closed his eyes while pressing his forehead into hers, trying to absorb all her presence, the silkiness of her hair, the sweet scent of her neck, the warmth of her skin, of her hands. Before Eleanor could pull away, he sighed:

“I hope one day you finally understand that everything I’ve done, everything I’m doing, is for you. Because it's never been about me, Eleanor. The only thing that matters to me is that you become the brilliant and successful doctor you really deserve to be”

There were so much sincerity and pain in his speech that Eleanor pulled away from him so she could see his eyes. She stroked his cheek.

“I know, in a way I understand it, Ethan… But I can’t accept that path has to be this painful… And so unfair”

“Life isn’t fair, Eleanor”

Eleanor wanted to refute him that in this case, life had nothing to do with it. Because life wasn’t being unfair to her. He was being unfair. But she was unable to say a word. She was mesmerized by Ethan’s look. His eyes that so many times had given her comfort, now they haunted her dreams, they didn’t let her sleep at night, and at that precise moment, was threatening the little sanity she had left.

After a few moments, they began to look at their lips, mere inches away from each other, until they finally gave in to the inevitable. A brush of lips so satisfying and full of redemption that they sighed in unison, to come together again in a more intense kiss, capturing and biting each other lips. Ethan felt Eleanor’s tears stream down his cheeks. To alleviate her own pain and avoid a sob, Eleanor stroked Ethan’s hair tightly in the back of his head, intensifying the kiss even more, sliding her tongue in his, and all over his lips.

Ethan didn’t have time to hesitate and was caught up by the same desire. Soon, he was sliding his hands under Eleanor’s coat, feeling the curve of her breasts, her waist, and her hips. It was a never-ending dance of lips, which was complemented by more caresses, and then Eleanor climbing on top of Ethan, straddling him with her legs.

On another occasion, she would have pulled herself together and walked away. But knowing that she wouldn’t see him again for a long time, it drove her crazy. And maybe not for a long time, but there was always the possibility that this would be the last time they would be together, that both of them would want each other. Because no one could foretell what would happen from now on, when both he and she had finally accepted that their relationship had reached a dead end and that it was up to Ethan to revive it, and he had been clear that that wouldn’t happen.

“Eleanor…”—He sighed, a glint of reluctancy in his tone. He gulped.

She ignored him and continued to kiss him passionately, as she began to move over Ethan’s lap gently.

"Deny that you want this"—She whispered a moments later—"Say that you don’t want me and I swear I’ll go”

Eleanor pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. It was dark, but she was able to see the sparkle in his eyes slightly. Eleanor’s anticipation was stifling as she felt Ethan’s bulge between her tights.

“I want you more than anything in this world”—He replied melting at the sight of her on top of him, his arms around her body.

Without wasting another second, she kissed him again, intensifying her movements over him.

“Eleanor"—He gasped, feeling an electric shock down his spine as he rested his hand over Eleanor's hips, pressing her against his crotch, rubbing each other as their moans began to invade the car.

Suddenly, Eleanor slid her hand between his tights, feeling his arousal under her fingers. He went to her pants, unbuttoned them, and shoved his hand under her panties. He felt her wetness, her desire. She sighed.

“Ohh, Ethan…”

“You’re so ready”

“Yes” She mumbled.

Ethan tried to lower her pants, but he couldn’t do much, due to the uncomfortable position. For a second, Eleanor thought they could have gone to her room but abandoned the idea immediately. She knew that Ethan could have second thoughts on their way to her apartment and she didn’t want to risk the possibility to be with him.

Instead, she returned to the passenger seat, took off her shoes, and after moving the seat backward, took off her pants and panties. Ethan imitated her and pushed the seat backward as well and began to unfasten his pants. Eleanor, anxious, unhooked his belt and pants before he could finish, and released his cock under the boxer, and lowered herself to slide her tongue in all his length, to finally cover the tip with his mouth and then go deep. After a few moments, she moved upwards, sucking him hard.

“Eleanor”—He sighed in pleasure.

The girl worked on him for a few moments, until Ethan stopped her and guided her to sit on his lap again. “Come here”

They kissed again, devouring each other, Ethan grazing her jaw, her neck greedily, while she was gasping loudly as the anticipation was taking her body, feeling his arousal right under her sex. Then he removed her sweater and pulled her shirt and bra up, exposing his breasts. He cupped them with both hands before taking his mouth straight to her chest and began to kiss them… and then to suck her nipples.

"Ethan” Eleanor moaned loudly “Yes!”

The sound of his breath while licking her nipples and the “smack” after his mouth sucked them resonated in the car, and it was just another source of pleasure for Eleanor. But there was still something both were missing. Eleanor shifted slightly as she directed his arousal towards her center.

“Fuck”—She sighed as Ethan was entering her.

It was a blessed feeling, although neither of them believed in God, least of all in religion. That pleasure, that ecstasy, was a catharsis after all those months containing their deepest feelings and desires, after reliving almost every night the precious time they had spent together and that now were long gone.

“Oh, I missed you"—He groaned, taking her butt harder, as he was picking up more speed.

“Fuck yes. I wanted you so bad”—She kissed him, tongues colliding, teeth biting and swollen lips asking for more and more.

“You feel amazing, Eleanor”

The noise of their bodies colliding filled the car, but they were soon muffled with the moans that each one was not able to suppress, in the face of the sensations that were overwhelming them.

If someone was passing by and they had caught them, they wouldn’t have cared. All that mattered at that moment, was the feeling of their bodies connected. The pleasure that one was producing in the other. The ecstasy, the madness of their touch. The smell of their bodies. Ethan went to her breasts taking one with her hand, sucking her nipples hard while the other hand was on her ass, gripping her roughly.

“Ethan, I’m close”

Ethan was holding back just to this moment. He grabbed her firmly by her hips and began to thrust her at an impossible pace. Eleanor couldn’t comprehend where all that sensations were coming from, how she started to melting so abruptly, because she climaxed just a few seconds later.

“Oh my god, ETHAN!”—She screamed as he felt her hot breath in his mouth. Her tights squeezed as she was climaxing and that was enough to make him cum crying out her name.

He saw Eleanor toppling over him resting her forehead into his. Ethan embraced her, trying to feel every inch of her exposed skin in his.

“I love you”—She whispered.

He tightened his embrace, just as he did the last time she had said those words, and Eleanor still couldn’t figure out if he did that to pent up and not say anything, or to catch some bravery to tell her something. Either way, she wasn’t waiting for an answer this time. She only wanted him to know, before leaving, that she still loved him.

After a few more seconds holding each other, Eleanor returned to the passenger seat. She took her clothes and began to put them on. He also fixed his clothes. Somehow, when she came back to reality, the atmosphere was just as tense and painful as before the kiss. Even though the orgasm was still latent between her tights, the fact of knowing that the goodbye had finally come, was shattering her.

She turned to him, look into his blue eyes for a brief second, and breathed:

“Have a good flight ”

And without further ado, she got out of the car towards the building.

“I love you too, Eleanor”—He said just as Eleanor closed the building’s door.

_____

Chapter 4.

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girlobsessed21 · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on The 100 7x01

Before I get into the episode, I felt the absence of Bellamy and Octavia, they are my favorites and a very core part of this show. I was worried about the lack of Bellamy in all the promotional material, but Jason explained in an article that he needed some time off and they gave that to him, but he still plays a vital role and we will see him again. At the end of the day, we don’t know what happened, but the mystery around his disappearance into anomaly is quite intriguing.

For now, I’m holding out hope that he will return to my screen in full force, until proven wrong I’m going to be positive. Despite that, I enjoyed it. It wasn’t my favorite first episode, still a strong start spreading optimism for the rest of the season. Lots of surprises that made it worthwhile.

The anomaly colony

Hope wakes up with memory loss while Gabriel examines her tattoos. She runs away and finds a note to herself that says, ‘Trust Bellamy’. Bellamy, not Octavia, who she clearly knows, which seems like Hope wasn’t aware she would find Octavia in Sanctum.

Now, why would Hope want to trust Bellamy and stab Octavia? Perhaps she needed his help finding her in return for Diyoza? This seems like a logical conclusion given that ‘He’ has her mother. The Blakes certainly hold some key to the anomaly, everything points me in that direction.

I can’t say all that much about Hope, due to the amnesia she has no personality yet, but it’s clear she’s smart and capable.

Gabriel being an anomaly-dork. Gosh, I love him too bits. The acting in the scene where they try to figure out what happened to Octavia and Bellamy is a little cringy, but I turned a blind eye and focused on the dialogue.

I’m getting to the good stuff…

Roan coming back to haunt Echo is probably my favorite part of the episode, I’ve missed the king so damn much. He asks her who she is without Bellamy or her queen. I’m so glad they’re delving into the subject. If you read my previous blogs, you’ll know I asked this question many times. She’s such a bad ass spy, she needs a purpose and story apart from him. Nonetheless, I like Echo and I would love to see her gain some of her own identity and build her own life. Being distanced by time and space could really do that for her. Scroll down for the shipping part of this story…

The more important thing is that there are people who control the anomaly and know exactly who they are. Like Echo predicted because of the bad shots they were sent to capture and not kill them except for Hope. I assume it’s because she knows how the anomaly works. Who are they and what do they want? My guess, Bellamy and Octavia. Perhaps Clarke as well?

Loved the three of them entering together because a few second difference could mean months. That means Diyoza and Octavia could have been months, maybe even years, apart.

Rising from and burning to ashes in one afternoon

This new beautiful house with the dysfunctional family and Madi with Picasso is certainly heart-warming in a show that continues to push the bounds of darkness. How great is that little picnic in the yard? Now I’m curious, they drink to Abby, but have they forgotten Kane?

Also, good to see Raven and Clarke on better terms. They really spoiled her character in season 6 but it seems like she’s back on par. It’s clear that good things happen when they’re working towards the same goal, as family. That dynamic has been broken since season 2 and if there’s one lesson that can be learned from season 1 it’s that they’re outstanding on the same team.

At first, I wondered why they weren’t questioning Octavia, Bellamy and Echo’s absence but then I realized they probably saved them a room like they did for Jordan and assumed they were exploring the anomaly. It’s still the same day as 6x13 since they were having lunch. Episode 6x13 ended at dawn and 7x01 starts at lunchtime.

I know Murphy did a lot of obscure things in season 6 but he’s not to blame for Abby’s death. Emori’s right, Russel killed her.

Why did Clarke choose the master suite, though? It seems a little out of character for her to do something so selfish.

On to other things, I must point out Indra’s line: “Someone needs to speak for the commander and I’m hungry.” She’s magnificent, hard and sharp, as always. Pair that with Miller being a dutiful, abiding shoulder and you have greatness.

Raven makes a comment about mothers and daughters and Clarke says she’s fine. Later, Madi also asks her to open up about it, and she still claims to be fine. When I heard this the first time, I was instantly worried because they heap one set of PTSD on top of the other and never deal with it. The woman just lost her mother, how the hell can she be fine. The answer: She can’t.

And I’m really glad they expanded on that to show how utterly necessary it is to deal with your grief and trauma. Sure, Clarke is a powerhouse of a woman, but she’s human and clearly hurt, she can’t compartmentalize and continue on like nothing has happened – I hope she finds a way to actually deal with it instead of following in Jasper’s footsteps. She was already suicidal, give the damn woman a break.

Is civility an ability?

Faith is a powerful and dangerous thing. Interesting topic. While I don’t completely believe that faith is dangerous, when it comes to the point of blindly following charlatan’s into harms way, yes it becomes dangerous. My biggest thoughts on this narrative is whether peace can indeed exist in a world where different factions exist with various beliefs and opinions. I’d like to quote John Lennon:

Imagine there's no countries It isn't hard to do Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too Imagine all the people living life in peace, you

Keyword being ‘Imagine’, this song is written about an unattainable Utopia which is still a reality several hundred years into the future.

“Too many people”

“Good thing ALIE’s not around.”

The humor is all around outstanding this episode even Clarke cracks a joke.

We’re introduced to a few new characters and not much too say about them since we didn’t see much of them. I like Nelson, he is firm in his stance, logical and pragmatic. Trey is just annoying with his faith in the divinity of the primes. The only thing I got from Nikki is that she’s compulsive and lethal while Hatch has this Southern charm and charisma. He reminds me of Sawyer from Lost.

Next, Jordan goes to check on Russel. I appreciate the way they build around the morality we saw withing Russel at the beginning of season 6. JR Bourne is a fantastic actor with the depth he plays into the grief and guilt of losing his family.

Also, the softness of Monty and Harper still shining through Jordan. I’m glad he’s not adjusted and simply trying to keep the peace. Not sure if that’ll change. Curious to know why they saw the anomaly in their visions…

I just need to add that Murphy sitting at a bar is perfect!! Another amazing episode for him and Emori. He questions himself with his own varied degrees of morality while Emori continues to grow by reading Kay Lee Prime’s journal. I guess the believers must be blind to continue following their orders, but hey, props to Raven for exploiting the opportunity and Murphy and Emori did an entertaining job with it. Emori has come such a long way and the ‘We are one’ line felt personal in the sense that she had also established herself as part of the family.

Losing my religion

Can you truly lose your religion? What is a fleimkeepa without a flame, what is Sanctum without the primes and what is Echo without Bellamy? Sometimes faith is stronger than truth. Bad thing, no! Because what is the truth really? Interesting subject to explore but I don’t have an answer on this. I’d rather focus on the fact that I’m glad we’ll get to explore these characters on new paths.

Clarke’s composure vanishes. Boy oh boy, Eliza’s acting. When you compare s6 and 7 to s1, it just shows you the value of experience. The way that switch flipped when Russel handed her Abby’s clothes and wedding band. I looked at the fighting and her explosive rage in detail and I cannot help but compliment her on that perfect portrayal of the result of passive aggression.

Now, I don’t understand how Sheidheda uploaded himself into Russel’s mind drive when it was made clear that two consciousness cannot exist in the same mind. When Clarke killed Josephine in the mind-space, she came back to life within seconds. Will this be another Clarke/Josephine battle and are the other commanders still subdued?

If he is going to be one of the main villains of the season, I would like to get under his skin. I’m not interested in a one-dimensional pure evil villain. I’m hoping JR Bourne will make something remarkable of him.

Shipwreck

There’s a friendship blooming between Clarke and Gaia and I’m all for it. Could they be setting them up romantically? It’s a possibility and I’d take it as a consolation prize for Bellarke if it’s well-built. Focus on the well-built. If Clarke finds out that Bellamy is missing and goes through hell and beyond to save him, I will interpret that as Clarke still loves Bellamy. If they want me to fall in love with Claia, they should make me fall in love with Claia.

Although I’d always prefer Bellarke. From a storytelling or writing viewpoint, all loose ends should be tied with the conclusion. Bellarke is a complete loose shard. If romance is not their destiny, I hope they at least address the topic in full, because it has been building for seven years. If you haven’t read my post on Bellarke, please do so. I explain in the romantic elements of their story in detail.

As for Echo’s vision of Roan. He questions her devotion to Bellamy and says she will even betray the man she now claims to love. I interpreted that as him referring to Mount Weather as well as secrets she’s obviously hidden from Bellamy. For example, her real name. This could go two ways in my opinion. One, they’re trying to set Echo apart from Bellamy, separating them by time and space to break them up or they are trying to teach her how to be her own person as well as the other half of their relationship.

I’m not quite invested in their relationship, and they would have to rip one bigass hare out of the hat to get my attention. Love their characters individually, but season 6 showed me Bellamy still loves Clarke. If Becho’s relationship was built to last, the writers would have written it that way. When you compare it to Murphy and Emori or Monty and Harper, it’s clearly questionable.

That’s it, let me know if I got something wrong, if you agree or disagree, love to hear your opinions.

#the 100 #the 100 season 7 #the 100 7x01 #the 100 season seven #The100 #clarke griffin #bellarke #bellamy blake #octavia blake #john murphy #emori #echo kom azgeda #gabriel #indra kom trikru #gaia #raven reyes #russel lightbourne #jordan green

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shibalen · 3 years

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Hi! I’m so sorry about the earlier request! I misread the rules (._. ) I’d like to request from Akatsuki No Yona and Haikyuu. I prefer a romantic type of matchup. I’m a Capricorn and infp. I have a fairly large social circle and quite talkative with others. But there are times I prefer my own time and silence. I trust people easily and am loyal to my friends. I’m a left hander. My hobbies are writing, reading and watching anime. I listen to various types of music. It depends on my mood. (😁)

I’m a literature student and love to learn about technology. I have three cats and one dog. I adore animals, even insects but not spiders XD. I like dark colours and dark themed movies and stories. My ideal type of date is chilling inside a cafe or walking along a forest or a silent place talking with each other. I’m into carefree guys who get serious in the time of need. (😁)

The type of a guy who would dance around with me in the kitchen and jam to songs with me in the car and also be there when I have a breakdown. I’m an impatient fellow and tend to lose my focus easily. I’d like to request music box and dark box uwu. That’s it! Thanks! And sorry again for the earlier request! Love your blog! (😁)

♡︎ matchup for 😁anon

heya howdy doodle doo! how're you? i hope you didn't get too tired of waiting and actually see this. hehe. i gave these results lots of thought so i'm happy if you like them too!

akatsuki no yona: i match you with . . .

jae-ha !!

• you guys match so well i can't— your zodiacs, mbti, personality and your type of person are simply pointing at Jae-ha with a big red arrow!

• Jae-ha is chill and social by nature. that paired with your love for talking with people makes you a really social couple. i can easily picture the two of you being the life of most conversations.

• also when there's a crisis or any more serious situation going on you're both usually the ones to calm others down. your presence makes them feel at ease and honestly Jae-ha admires that so much in you ♡︎

• he knows he can trust you with his burdens and count on you to be there for him. he may not always voice them out loud but you know he needs your comfort when he silently lays his head on your shoulder.

• of course this goes both ways and he will never let you be alone during a breakdown. somehow he always finds the right things to say or do to help you find yourself again. his voice is deep and soothing and he will happily put it to use if it makes you feel at ease.

• though he does have a sharper intuition when it comes to strangers and therefore makes sure nobody takes advantage of you. however there was definitely one time where he let you buy something extremely overpriced just to tease you about it later

• the worse the scam the more poisonous the words he speaks to them with that lazy smile. then he escorts you away while waving a hand.

• "you have to be more careful, flower. i don't want some guy eventually making you give your heart away too, " he flirts

• "too late," you respond. "this one green-haired guy with stupid jokes already has it."

• BOOM

• ahem.

• at first you thought he was the worst case of a womanizer, and you preferred your possible partner to reciprocate your loyalty. unfortunately otherwise he was just your type so you couldn't help but be drawn to him.

• Jae-ha was attracted to you too from your smart and fun personality to your hobbies and taste in music. he loved how you stood your ground yet how flexible you were with your likes.

• obviously he didn't give up on you despite your little façade. he proved his loyalty runs deeper than most when he's fallen for the right person. you're his special, dear person and won't let anything or anyone come between that.

• will wear matching dark outfits with you! claims it's not his style but likes it surprisingly a lot. you might do ridiculous poses just to embarrass Hak.

• can be heckin annoying when it comes to your writing though. "are you going to write me into your story? of course you are ;)" "is the main character me?" don't get him wrong, he adores your writing and that's why he gets so excited about it. other times he does it on purpose to get your attention smh

• overall, light-headed teasing is something he will always do just to see you flustered. it's so adorable he can't help it. leaning in extra close to you while you're cooking together, highkey boasting about you to his friends, starting and winking at you, plus all sorts of cheesy one-liners.

• but Jae-ha is smart and knows when to give you space. when you're ready to interact again he's already prepared for a date!

• Jae-ha is romantic even on daily basis, bringing you flowers or small trinkets that he knows you like. just seeing you smile at his loving gestures makes his cheeks warm and heart beat fast (though he tries not to show it)

• please listen to him playing the erhu, he does it especially for you. when you're out on a rooftop on a moonlit night he'll serenade you with his songs.

• your dates include: walks around the outskirts of towns, moongazing, him leaping through the sky with you securely in his arms, dinner at different inns and travens with music and parties or by a bonfine and you two just being silly. also creative activities like pottery and sketching ♡︎

❦︎ ink box

— this happened before your relationship even started, back when Jae-ha first realised his feelings for you.

— you wouldn't expect it, but he struggled with these emotions a lot. this was the first time he had ever felt this way towards anybody, after all. his natural reaction was to distance himself from you because he was scared, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

— he was afraid of being tied down and tying you down. he knew love required commitment and you valued loyalty. he dreaded he wouldn't be good enough for you, instead becoming the source of your pain. you deserved much more than he was, and he was a coward.

— there was also the problem of putting you in danger because of the group's mission. any injury you'd get would be his fault and that was too much a thought to bare.

— he thought he was being smooth avoiding you, preparing for his leave without hurting you. he thought. but you were smarter, you knew Jae-ha was kind. he wouldn't do this to hurt you—not after all those fun memories you'd made together!

— refusing to beat around the bush, you tried confronting him. however, by that time he'd already set out to the next destination. he had left, without a word of goodbye.

— thankfully, Zeno was the quickest to notice Jae-ha's broken demeanor. it was heartbreak which he himself knew too well. he pulled the green dragon aside the next evening as they were gathering wood and stubly hinted Jae-ha shouldn't do anything he would regret for the rest of his life.

— the rest of the gang was quick to join after Kija happened to overhear the conversation. they all (even Ao) swore to take care of you if Jae-ha wouldn't be able to.

— you were halfway up the mountain chasing after him when Jae-ha landed directly in front of you. he was out of breath and dishevelled but the desperate glint in his eye shone brighter than any star in the sky.

— you embraced and shared a sweet kiss under the night sky. he apologised more times than you could count but after almost shattering your heart you didn't let him off the hook that easily. well, he had the rest of his life with you to make it up to you ♡︎

♡︎ runner up: Hak

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

haikyuu: i match you with . . .

rintaro suna !!

• Suna is a little different from the previous match but my instincts told me to put you together regardless! i think your personalities balance each other out while sharing the same core basics.

• you're both laid-back and have no problems interacting with people but still like your alone time. as in infp you seek new knowledge and Suna, being the smartass he is, will never bore you. he can be both silent and talkative, whichever you prefer.

• will definitely join you in being social but in a subtle way. he'll stand/sit next to you with an arm around you while you're talking to your friends. really chill but also knows how to hold a conversation and chime in with a clever comment.

• once he notices you becoming tired he casually steers you away from the rest, saying you two have to go now. how is this guy so smooth? really though he just wants to be alone together with you.

• you guys met when your social groups came together. it's that 'friend of a friend of a friend' chain and thus somehow you ended up going to one of his games because a person you knew didn't want to go alone.

• they knew Kita so y'all went to congratulate him on the win later. he then introduced you the team and therefore, of course, Suna.

• you thought he was pretty and you chatted a bit but nothing much happened. it was through these continuous meetings afterward that eventually pshed you two together ♡︎

• you had so much to talk about! stories, technology, hobbies, music, a little gossip. he liked how opinionated you were and how much you knew, then found it amusing how easily distracted you got.

• his advances were really subtle yet continuous and efficient! though some of them were kind of teasing. made sure you were comfortable with your friendship first before stating his exact feelings for you.

• Suna isn't afraid of pda and if you are too, he'll be holding your hand, having you sit on his lap, giving you kisses on your face and hand. yet although others mifht see, it feels as though every touch is a secret language meant for bust the two of you.

• his advice is quite blunt but he does it out of love, plus his actions are much softer and really patient when you're at rock-bottom. i assure you anyone neglecting your feelings is not safe.

• you're both into dark-themed stuff! y'all go to movies, festivals, bookshops and alike looking so hella aesthetic, i swear. what a beautiful couple (☆ω☆)

• your pets love Suna after they've gotten used to him. sometimes when he comes over the cats will come chill around him. it's like he's one of them and it's hilarious. you have a bunch of pictures on your phone of him and your dog.

• you like showing those photos off to his teammates because they're just that good, but instead of getting embarrassed Suna will either just agree or jokingly ask why haven't you made it your background yet.

• overtime he's learnt how to keep your focus from going too astray, though you can't say he's always vigilant himself. he slacks off during boring lectures and would much rather talk to you. the teacher had to seperate you pfft—

• can and will jam to all times of music with you in the kitchen, even if just ironically. one time his little sister caught the two of you vibing to an opera preformance and homeboy just shrugged it off and continued because you both thought it was funny.

• your dates include: going on hikes especially after a stressful period (Suna most definitely did not look up the best places near your home and prepared your favorite snacks), cat cafés, staying at home and cooking a meal cause this boy probably only knows how to pour water over noodles, and long drives and blasting music ♡︎

♫︎ music box

— I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

— Caroline by Crash Adams

— Blinding Lights by The Weekend

— Your Dog Loves You by Colde

— Hey Boy by Sia (what you'd jokingly lip-sync to for him)

♡︎ runner up: Atsumu Miya

thank you so much for requesting and i apologise for the huge delay (ಥ﹏ಥ) still, i hope you enjoyed! have a lovely day and please stay safe ♡︎

#len's matches #matchups #😁anon #haikyuu matchups #akayona matchups

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 4 years

Note

would you ever do a general rating of the 1d music videos?

I genuinely thought that I had already answered this, but I hadn’t. So my answer is: Of course! I thought you’d never ask.

One Thing: Music videos are inherently absurd and in some ways the more naturalistic they try and be the more ridiculous they are - because you still have these people lip syncing through life. One of the reason that One Thing works so well - is that idea of the video is that 1D are performing their song through London. So you get all the absurd joy of an upbeat music video performance, but it feels real, because they are actually travelling through London on a bus performing.

There are so many perfect moments in this video: Harry’s ridiculous cheesyness at the beginning, Zayn with the Hijabi, Niall busking, Louis looking on while Zayn is busking and sort of taking charge, all the beautiful heartbreaking connection and charm on the bus. Even Liam’s going blank as someone takes a picture with him - is capturing an importat aspect of who he is. The framework that they were performing, allowed all these moments to come out that felt very real.

Kiss You: Glorious high energy ridiculousness. The simple concept of tribute to Elvis movies works really well - working with the unrealness of filming makes the video feel grounded in a paradoxical way. One of the reasons I like music videos is that they need to be based on an idea that can be executed in such a short space of time. And that’s what I think

What Makes You Beautiful: Is the WMYB music video actually good? maybe not. There’s some really ridiculous cross fade editing and nothing about it is particularly interesting. But it doesn’t matter, because I love it ever so much. There’s so much joy from their performances - and they’re wearing really ridiculous trousers.

Plus the ocean is in it lots and I haven’t been for a swim for almost five months and I haven’t seen a body of water larger than a duck pond for longer. Joy and a sense of place is enough for a music video.

Little Things: Sweet, sincere, naturalistic and effective. It’s very simple and simple is hard. But everything about it (except the song) works.

Best Song Ever: Such an absurd music video - but heaps of fun and that’s all that really matters. Obviously Marcel and Veronica alone would be enough, but there is a lot of other joy to be had here, they interact with each other - and there’s synchroised dancing.

(A small side note, I hadn’t realised that it was filmed in a synagogue, until Ben mentioned it recently on a day that was definitely not hte anniversary of it being filmed. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it when watching, because it’s so obvious. And there are all sorts of ways that the space doesn’t feel like an office, but a set pretending to be an office. It doesn’t really matter in this video, because it’s supposed to be absurd, but Ben is really, really bad at sense of place in his videos).

Story of My Life: This is an excellent concept for a music video - it’s simple enough that it can be explored in four minutes, but it is interesting. There’s an incredible behind the scene team that recreated houses from the 1990s, and those sequences really work for me. The space they sing in also looks really cool and interesting, in a way that fits with the theme of the video. Despite these strengths, it also invented 1D standing in a line, singing, but not interacting while being filmed from below, which is the curse of later 1D music videos. (I absolutely get the appeal of 1D members having bits by themselves, and therefore making filming less intense for all involved, but why then choose such a terrible way for them to come together again?)

Live While We’re Young: Watching the treatment has really brought out the weakness of this video to me. The frolicking is fun - the whole video is super high energy and full of joy, but where are they and why? The video is just too clean, both literally and figureatively, to make the fun these people in their late teens and early twenties are supposedly having seem real.

Drag Me Down: The concept behind the video is amusingly basic (’the opposite of being dragged down is going into space!’), but the video itself mostly works. The setting is more than interesting enough to sustain 3 minutes and elevent seconds of 1D members existing in it. And Harry and the robot is actively good.

You & I: I’ve never quite understood the vitriol directed at this video. It’s quite drab and not actively good, but there’s interaction between 1D members and the British seaside in bleak weather is a sense of place. (Here’s getting even more controversial. I’ve no idea why people call this plagerism. Using the same special effect is hardly plagerism - and music videos as a genre involve a lot of using ideas.

Perfect: I struggled with where to place this, because there’s a lot of good moments: the interview, Liam and Louis messing around, Harry and Harry L. And there should be a sense of space. But ultimately the inexplicable decision to film in black and white really brings this video down for me. As far as I can tell the only reason it was done that way to make it look pretty. And I have a real thing about filmakers choosing aesthetics in a way that undermines what they’re actually trying to do. If it had felt more real and grounded this video could have so easily captured the cooped up feeling of luxury - and the ways you cope in it that the song mentions. But instead it’s just a series of aesthetically chosen snippets - and then people singing in a line for no reason.

Night Changes: This video is at least a couple of places higher than it should be, because of the incadescent hammy charm of Harry’s performance. Also because the fact that Niall wants to kill you at least makes his segment interesting. But I will say that I think the depiction of y/n ends up being quite misogynist, particularly because the video makes her everywoman. She’s ridiculously passive thorughout each scenario, not just being led around by 1D members on the date itself, but also doing nothing while Niall is on fire. Then her judgements are absurdly shallow - blaming Zayn for her ex being an asshole and Niall for being set on fire (although if she’s just using it as excuse to escape that’s legit)

History: This video is also a struggle - because the footage is really good and the present day performance is really bad. In the end I dropped it down the list, because of the way it squandered potential and how easy it would be to make a better version of this video.

Gotta Be You: In a lot of ways Gotta Be You isn’t bad it’s just boring with some very odd serious faces. But I can never unsee Liam rending at his trousers after singing ‘what a mess I made upon your innocence’ - and the video has to take responsibility for that.

Midnight Memories: This video is an abomination - trying for joy and a sense of place and failing spectacularly at both. I have written a whole post about everything that is wrong with Midnight Memories. And the only thing I’d like to add is: ‘Stop assuming that women owe you attention Niall’.

Steal My Girl: So mostly this is just a mediocre video. There’s no emotional core to it. There’s no real sense of place - and the attempts at surrealism are super basic. But it would be a lot higher up (because there’s a lot of bad 1D videos), if it wasn’t for the depiction of what is supposed to be Masai culture.

That video mostly depicts performers in that desert. Ballet Dancers, marching bands, Sumo Wrestlers, rhythmic gymnasts and mimes. These are all people who are performing in this video in a way they perform for a living. To include a depiction of Masai people in that context, is to reduce Masai culture to a performance for white people.

I think it’s also really importat that the Masai are presumably black American extras dressed up to look like Masai, while everyone else from ballet dancers to Sumo wrestlers, are what they are performing. And I think you can really tell - particularly the difference between Zayn’s interaction with the Sumo wrestlers, and Niall’s interaction with the Masai. The Sumo wrestlers are depicted as people who are interacting with Zayn and have agency. (There may very well also be things Japanese people object to about the depiction of Sumo wrestlers! Obviously I’m not an expert in any of this. But I do think the difference between having people with knowledge, and having people dress up is very significant).

More than that, the whole idea of ‘bringing life to the desert’ is also a colonial idea. There is life in a desert - and there are people who have lived in the desert - the idea that the desert is lifeless and needs to be transformed by outsiders only makes sense for people who want to erasing existing life and claim it as their own.

One Way or Another Teenage Kicks: DAVID FUCKING CAMERON! JUST STANDING THERE SURROUNDED BY ONE DIRECTION MEMBERS! Even if you leave aside the current set of clusterfucks that David Cameron is directly responsible for, because they didn’t know about them (WHICH I DON’T!), austerity was killing people in 2013. David Cameron’s Tory governement relentlessly attacked poor and disabled people and made their lives worse. It’s shameful that any of them were prepared to be in a video with him. (There is also the larger issue of the way Comic Relief constructs ‘Africa’ and the white saviourism of this video, but the appearance of David Cameron’s smug face means I can’t concentrate enough to write about it).

#It says a lot about my love of writing about 1D related music videos #that I could have written this without wtachingn the music videos #and that I didn't #Anonymous

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deanscroissant · 4 years

Text

j.m. one-shot request (3)

Request: @johndeaconlover Hi! How are you? If you do not accept such a request, you may send me the answer privately. Well, although I haven't seen it yet Dear Sidewalk, but I've read some fanfic, Gardner is a cinnamon muffin. Anyway, could you write something about him based on Taylor Swift's song, Lover? With a little smut, I'm very thirsty for it! Please, thanks for your attention! Xxxx

A/n: So sorry this took me so long. I really, really, really hope I fulfilled your wishes. This is my first time writing smut, so don’t come @ me if it sucks lol. If I’ve made any mistakes I apologize in advance. Hope you like it and whoever reads this. Feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

Warnings: fluff, a pinch of angst, and smut (18+)

Word count: 1590

Gardner Langway, the man that used to be a stranger to you now your husband. Last month, in April, was when you two tied the knot and since then you’ve been the happiest woman alive. It seemed like you knew him for years when you first met him. It was like rekindling a friendship you once had.

When Gardner showed up at you front door as your new mail carrier two years ago you instantly fell head over heels for him. He was different. It was something about him that you couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe it was how shy he was when you communicated. He didn’t talk much at first and you wanted to get to know him more, so you tried for a while to build up the courage to ask him out for coffee or a walk at least.

But little did you know that Gardner was doing the same behind closed doors. When he first met you he wanted to kiss you right then and there. Your beauty was captivating, but he didn’t seem worthy of being with you. You were way out of his league. He shouldn’t even bother trying.

But a few days later Gardner mastered shoving the negative thoughts away, all by the help of Calvin, who knew something was up with him the minute he came in the house for dinner that night. Gardner was being in denial, not wanting Calvin to know about his attraction to someone he didn’t know for a least a month.

And here he was, standing frozen at your doorsteps, anxiety taking over his state of mind. He ran his sweaty palms down his denim-covered thighs as his breathing hitched. “Just do it.” he whispered. He gulped and closed his eyes and counted to ten slowly before he reached to ring the doorbell.

Meanwhile, you were upstairs getting ready to go over to his house. You sat at your vanity putting on your favorite lip gloss when you hear your doorbell ring. You weren’t expecting anyone today, so you wonder who it could be. When you open your door, there stood the person who stole your heart. He was clearly nervous. You didn’t even need to ask what he was doing here because you just knew what he was going to ask you. So with a blushing smile, you say, “Yes. I would love to.”

From then on the rest was history. You two were inseparable. You did not want to let him go. He was a drug you couldn’t get enough of. The more you were around each other, the more open you began to be with each other. You seem to fall more and more in love with him every time you saw him. You would gush over the little things he would do or say. You’d die of laughter when you would tell him a joke and he would think you were actually being serious, or when he would tell a corny joke and you would try to act like it wasn’t funny, but end up laughing anyways. You loved learning about his favorite hobbies, his favorite foods, books, what he likes and doesn't like, everything.

You cherish those moments with him. But the memory that stood out the most was when he proposed to you a year later on your anniversary date. You were at the park having a picnic when he popped the question. Everyone who was around watching were so happy for you two when you said yes. You couldn’t stop crying or laughing because you couldn’t believe you were going to marry your soulmate.

Immediately after the proposal Gardner moved in with you. You asked him about the boat he lived in and he wanted to keep it, but he didn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t want it sitting in front of his brother’s house, so you told him to just keep it and move it to the backyard.

It took you months to plan the wedding. You both wanted a small wedding with your family and Gardner’s friends and his brother. It was hard trying to find a venue since it was the only thing putting y’all behind. But you ended up finding one, which was way out of town about two hours away. But you didn’t care. It was perfect and it was worth stressing over.

After the ceremony you left for your honeymoon to the Grand Canyon. You wanted to surprise Gardner about visiting the Grand Canyon because all his life he dreamt of being there, so you were more than glad to fulfill that dream of his. “Okay, are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” He asked you for the fifteenth time today when the plane had landed, “I think I might combust if you don’t tell me.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at how he was looking with the blindfold you told him to wear, “You’ll see when you get off the plane, Gardner, for the hundredth time!”

And when he finally took off the blindfold when you told him to, he couldn’t contain his excitement. You saw a side of him that you haven’t seen before which definitely surprised you. He was acting a fool from the airport all the way to the hotel. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy watching him fangirl about being in the same state as the Grand Canyon.

You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the kisses he was giving you on the way there. It was oddly turning you on seeing him like this. When you and Gardner finally confessed your love to one another was when you two had sex for the first time. You weren’t a virgin, and Gardner wasn’t either and it honestly shocked you when he told you the story.

But it was the best sex you’ve ever had, and since then you couldn’t take your hands off of each other. You happen to look down at Gardner to see a bulge in his pants, “Mmm,” you bit your lip as Gardner kissed down your neck, trying not to moan loud so the Uber driver could hear you, “I should surprise you more often.”

“I would be totally down for that.” he murmured and lightly bit down on the soft flesh of skin. As much as you were enjoying this you had to push him away, “Baby, wait until we don’t have company to do this.” you said softly with a giggle so the driver couldn’t hear.

But Gardner wasn’t having it. He started pouting and pulled you closer into him, burying his face into your neck, “I need you.”

“We’re almost there.” you wrap your arms around him while kissing the side of his head, “Then we can have as much time as we want with each other.”

*********

Gardner crawled back up from paying special attention in between your legs and lined himself at your entrance, “Are you ready, baby doll?”

Being high off of your last orgasm you nodded lazily, wrapping your arms and legs around him as you lick your lips, “Yeah. Please, Gardner..”

Gardner nods and slowly enters you. Your eyes flutter close and a soft moan escape your lips. Gardner whimpers into your neck and slowly pulls out, then back in rhythm. Your nails drag down his back as Gardner pulled away from your neck to kiss you deeply. This was what home felt like. Gardner was your home. You two belonged to be molded together, to explore each other and to love each other in different ways.

You whimpered into the kiss before pulling away to catch your breath. Gardner rests his forehead against yours as he stares into your eyes, those gorgeous eyes that he gets lost in every time you look at him. He moves your legs up more to deepen his thrusts before quickening his pace. Your moans became louder as so his pants. He was getting close. He could also feel you getting closer as you clench around his length.

“Baby, I’m gunna cum.” you breathed out before sucking on his neck, which made Gardner begin to tremble. “F-fuck, me too.” he says. He reaches for your hands and pins them above you to lace his fingers with yours. Your core begins to tighten, and after a few thrusts you cum as you clench hard around his dick and your legs and arms tighten around him. Gardner’s thrusts falter and cums deep inside you, a mixture of moans and whimpering against your neck.

You both lay in each other’s embrace as you listen to Gardner’s heartbeat while he softly taps his fingers against your arm with a content smile. Your other hand was laced with his that was placed on his chest, which he would give kisses to it ever so often. This moment was so special to Gardner. He’d never thought he would live to get married. He’d never thought someone would love him as much as you did. He thought the people he knew a long time ago was supposed to love him, watch him grow up, be a family with him, and stay in his life until the day he died. But he has you now to make up for all of that. He wouldn’t even trade you to get any of it back.

You couldn’t believe this magnetic force of a man was now yours, and you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him.

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello x y/n #requests #my post #gardner langway #gardner langway x reader #gardner langway smut #joe mazzello smut #dear sidewalk

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justformyself2 · 4 years

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P.S I Love You (p3)

Hi guys, how are you doing? I hope the quarentine life is treating you well, let’s be brave, save lifes and read some fanfics while we at it, right? Welcome to part three. I hope you all enjoy ♥

The Rom-Com Writing Challenge is brought to you by my dear creative friend @lullabieswrappedinlies. As the title says, this is inspired by - the great at making me cry hard movie- ‘P.S. I Love You.’ if you haven’t seen it, go see it before you read this

BEFORE YOU JUMP IN BE ADVISED:

.This series contains spoilers from the movie P.S. I LOVE YOU.

. Pairing: Reader x John Krasinski.

. (Y/M/N) stands for ‘your mother’s name’

. Parts in italic means memories.

.It contains strong language.

.It contains angst and grieve.

. IF you want you can read this along with the amazing soundtrack from the movie CLICK HERE

NEW HERE? CLICK FOR PART TWO

.gif found by google search.

JOHN'S POV.

Gerry pats my back as if he just told me I had to work an extra shift, but he is not (Y/M/N), and I can't react casually.

"John?"

He calls, devoid of ceremonies as if we already had this routine, and makes an invitation move for me to join him on the varnished red table, and I do, for the main reason of making him rewind the words.

I walk the walk and take a chair in front of him.

"Can you please repeat what you said?"

I go back to the kitchen, leaving her with the TV for a while. She asked for water, and somehow I can't find cups and can't stop walking in circles around this suffocating kitchen, murmuring the phrase 'Gerry was wrong, he was wrong.' under my breath like a lunatic.

"Are you okay?"

I turn around, and she is leaning against the wall.

"Yeah, yes, yes."

I try to breathe between the repetitions, feeling like I've lost some of the control over myself, and I wasn't myself with her walking around this apartment, haunting me as Gerry did, what caused the expected concerned look on her face for a moment.

"Okay, triple confirmation."

I could feel the hotness in my hands, and with that, the unrequested wetness starting to form.

"I don't function very well in the heat."

She giggles and stupid weather talk saves me for now.

"I will get you the water. I just need to find the cups." I turn around spotting, the earlier invisible cups on the dish rack above the sink. "Right there."

I go to them, with the feeling of stupidity over my shoulders.

"John, can I ask you something?"

(Y/N) POV.

He turns the cups up, placing them on the counter slowly, and nods at you before opening the small beige fridge under the dark wooden cabinets. He inclines the torso and grabs a glass jar that seemed too recently filled and not cold enough.

"You and Gerry got pretty close when he was...You know." You breathe in and continue. "Do you know anything about these letters?"

John is pouring the water in the cups, and besides that, he doesn't move a muscle.

"No, I really don't."

Putting the water jar back into the fridge, he then takes a bag of ice out. It makes a cracking sound against the sink, he rips the bag with the help of a knife, looking impatient.

"It is okay if you do. It is not Mark, that's for sure."

You laugh, but he is still quiet while putting the ice cubes on both cups.

The most unusual feeling hits your core, hard, there was no way to miss it, and it is easily discernible.

John hands you the cup with a condescending smile. Your fingers touch slightly; the cold glass refreshes your palm.

"You know. I love Gerry. I'll always will. He was romantic, charming, but awful at poetry. I mean, he had this band back in Ireland, but his friend, Shawn, was to one who wrote all the songs. Writing about his feelings wasn't his thing, I have all the birthday and anniversaries cards to prove it."

You laugh to yourself and watch John start to gulp the water aggressively as you continue the thought.

"I know he told not to get stressed about how the letters were coming, but yesterday I was reading the letters before bed. I realized only some of them have PS: I love you on it, and only some of them have words I know Gerry wouldn't use, ever."

He finishes the liquid in less than a minute, using the back of his hand to wipe his lips while avoiding eye contact, which only made you annoyed.

"John." You called, his eyes shift for a second towards you, blinking twice.

"You can call me crazy, but did you wrote some of the letters?"

JOHN’S POV.

"Listen. I know this is full of good intentions, but someday the letters will stop coming, and when they do, what will she do?"

Gerry reclines on the seat, and for a moment, I let myself get fooled by the idea of putting his mind on the right track.

"I know, but I'm only doing this because I have a reason to take a leap of faith here."

I sigh. My hands were unquiet. I untangle my hair back, feeling an enormous amount of overwhelming frustration.

"And what is that reason?"

"You."

Complete quietness resides between us, although I wanted to say some words back at him, mimicking the same lack of ceremony with which he approaches everything.

"Tell me you're joking."

Gerry smiles, but not at me.

"Good afternoon, guys. What can I get you?"

A John C. Reilly look-alike appears with a notepad on my right.

"Two beers, please." Is Gerry's order.

"I'm not drinking in the middle of the day, dude." I protest, and his eyes roll back.

"I'll have them. If there is a God, he knows how much I need it."

"So, only two beers?" John C. Reilly asks. Gerry's eyes brighten up and squint towards him.

" You look like someone." The waiter heavy sighs and I breathe out, avoiding eye contact with both of them. It is when I noticed through the large windows heavy dark clouds spreading in the sky.

"I will get your order now."

He rushes out, and Gerry laughs, pointing his thumb at the poor man, who was probably disgracing both of us right now.

"I swear to god, can't get his name straight right now." He starts to snap his fingers towards me, like asking for a plus one on his guessing game, and for a moment, I envy how fast he could get adrift from things, that are just not only things but people, (y/n).

"Gerry, can we talk? Actually, talk about this, not get drunk, not get distracted. I know this is hard-."

"You don't, you really don't, unless you are on this seat; You just want to be nice about it, and that is okay. You are the good guy, and you do good things, but sorry if I need a couple of beers to get forward with it. This is not me taking out on the fact that I'm dying. I just need to drink."

He inclines over the table, spreading his hands under his chest. For some odd reason, my mind traces back to the day when (Y/N) appeared at the bar, hyperventilating, throwing the umbrella on the ground, with desperation written all over her face.

It was raining heavily that day, and the news couldn't stop reporting about the flood on the subways stations. I turned the TV off immediately when she burst through the door, falling into (Y/M/N) arms like a child and sobbed aggressively while we tried to figure out what to do. That was the day I knew about Gerry's fate.

"Look. I know what I'm doing sounds in a way, bad for her, but what I'm counting on you to be there because I know-.'' He stops, closing his eyes for a second, suddenly I feel heavy, and still can't anticipate what could be coming from him.

"I know you and her, had a thing before we meet-."

"Oh no, no, no, no-." I cut him straight, wanting to leave, even with the dark clouds threatening to get me on the way, above.

"Shut up, okay, be a grown-up about it and let me finish."

He breaths out.

"I need your help with the letters because you are good at writing and being a poet or whatever you did in college. (Y/N) loves this stuff, and I want the letters to be special, and I want you to be involved in the process, help her to recover. When I'm gone, she is going to need... good people around her, who... loves her."

"Gerry, please."

He ignores me.

"It is going to be her choice in the end, okay? but I only trust you because if you love her enough to see her every day with me and not interfere, then you love her enough to do this. I know I'm twisting the knife, I'm sorry, but she will need you. Of course, she has her mom, who I don't know if it is happy or sad that I'm going to die, and her friends, who will eventually move on, while she is going to feel left behind, she will need someone new, but also someone who knows her, who was always there."

My stomach tosses and turns, and I don't want to trust my senses.

"I thought a long time about this. I can't be selfish; I literally don't have the time. I want (Y/N) to be happy; just see this as a blessing because I rather be you than anyone else, and I have a motive, believe me. Just promise me you will take care of her. Come on! are you denying a dying man his last wish?"

#RomComWC #RCWC #john krasinski imagine #john krasinskixreader #John Krasinski #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #movie #p.s. i love you #writing challenge

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aurora-daily · 5 years

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Nine Songs: AURORA

Interview by Thomas Harvey for The Line of Best Fit (May 30th, 2019).

Ahead of the release of her third album, Norway’s greatest pop export talks Thomas Harvey through the songs that have shaped her life and sound.

From a bustling city to the stillness of the forest; one of the first things that AURORA says to me is that as much as she loves music, she rarely listens to it. Instead it’s the sounds, sights and smells of the world that truly influence the Norwegian singer/songwriter.

Aurora Aksnes grew up without a television or radio. It’s not been the study of listening that’s carried her craft as a songwriter, rather the experiences and feelings she’s discovered and observed. Consequently, when we meet in London to talk about the songs that have made an impact on her, she references the memories attached to each of them, rather than musical influences.

AURORA feels it’s important to take solace in the finer details of a piece of music, as well as the core of good song-writing. Many of her selections are from timeless, legendary artists, unsurprisingly for a writer whose productions can often be modernised on songs like ‘Queendom’, from 2018’s Infections Of A Different Kind - Step 1, the follow up to her debut All My Demons Greeting Me As A Friend.

With the next chapter of the songwriters musical story arriving with A Different Kind Of Human - Step 2, AURORA explains how these nine songs have helped to shape her during the different periods of her life, from the feeling of kinship she felt with the audience at a Mastodon show at the age of eleven, to her honour in playing in the name of Leonard Cohen, to whom she paid tribute in a museum exhibition to his memory in Montreal

“Perfection is impossible” AURORA explains, an idea that’s an important reminder to herself when creating her music. Nonetheless, her relationship with music always stays with her as a friend.

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“Rez” by Underworld

“I discovered this song and this band a year ago, quite randomly. I love going to rave parties alone and of course I don’t drink, because I don’t want to be vulnerable to an attack and get into any trouble. I don’t drink, but I stay safe and I just dance.

“I just really love to dance. It’s kind of like a workout for me, because I’m very energetic on stage. I was at a rave party in France on a boat and I heard this song and I had to ask someone ‘What song is this?’ and I found it later.

“Now I listen to it sometimes when I cook - everything techno is my cooking song. The last meal I was cooking and listening to it with was waffles I think. I have a new waffle maker and it can cook two waffles at a time.”

“Suzanne” by Leonard Cohen

“May he rest in peace, the lovely little angel. I love this song. Musically we only heard Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen and Enya when I was a child, there was nothing else as we didn’t have a radio. I love Enya as well, especially the way she just stays the same and doesn’t change her sound. She knows what she’s here to do and she does it.

"This was one of the songs that I really loved when I was unable to understand what he was saying, because I didn’t know English then, or at least I didn’t know these lyrics yet, because they were so complicated. I ended up learning my English mainly from online gaming or computer games like World Of Warcraft.

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“A Seated Night” by Moby

“This song was on my computer, by a mistake I think, and on our family computer. We had a computer much later on - before computers were normal to have in every house - and we didn’t have a radio or MTV when I was growing up.

“I didn’t discover music when I was a kid and I still don’t really, because I don’t have many music platforms on my phone, but ‘A Seated Night’ was randomly downloaded through LimeWire onto our computer and it was the first song that I discovered through technology.

“I really love Moby, although I haven’t dived deep into him yet. I love the choir and I think that’s why I fell in love with this song, it’s just so nice. I love arranging myself into a choir and I’ve used a real choir for my music, a gay choir from Norway called Faggots. They’re really good, they just sing like real people and are really talented, more than I ever knew before I was working with them.

“They’re on “It Happened Quiet” and “Churchyard” and they’re also on my new record, where you can hear them quite promptly. They’re gorgeous. Ever since I heard this song, it had always been my dream to have a choir on my record.”

“Tomorrow Never Knows” by The Beatles

“This was the first song where I really enjoyed some of the production stuff in it. I really love different cultures and I’m really into this kind of vibe. I really liked it when I was a kid, I heard it when I was a sixteen-year-old kid, not like four, I was a bit older.

“I found all my music through CD’s, even though there were other platforms, I was just really slow. We didn’t have stuff at home like a TV or radio, so I discovered this through a CD because I really liked the cover and that’s why I bought it, an LP actually, so old-fashioned! It was the second LP I ever bought for myself.

“The cover was really nice, and I just really liked it. And of course I knew about The Beatles, I knew that they were a big name, and I should listen to them and see if I like them or not. I just really realised that you can play along with things, and that’s when I became a producer.”

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“Born Slippy” by Underworld

“I was driving through Iceland listening to this song and it’s just really gorgeous. I think this is how people feel when they take drugs - they begin on this floating cloud and then it becomes a bit chaotic at the end.

“It sounds like they were on drugs when they made it, but it doesn’t make me sad when I think about it, there’s something with it, it’s positive without making me vomit, which I really enjoy. Sometimes happier music is hard to listen to, because you can question as to why you aren’t as happy as the people in the song, but I like this song.

“I discovered this song much later, after ‘Rez’. When I hear one song I don’t automatically go and find the whole album, I kind of stop and just have fun with that song for months - I get really patient with songs and I can listen to them for months. I saw that ‘Born Slippy’ was on the same album as ‘Rez’ and now of course I have the whole album and I have rave parties for myself, just me.

“I also love to listen to this song whilst I paint, when I paint something without meaning. I’m full of opposites or coherent contrasts, one day I like to be at rave parties and then I like to be in forests. I like to see what the world has to offer me.”

“American Beauty: Original Motion Picture Score” by Thomas Newman

“This is my alarm clock; I wake up to it every morning. It’s so brilliant because it begins with this... and then I listen to it when I read books on a loop and it’s enough for me. It’s all I need. I have like one song for every mood.

“I heard this way before I watched the movie American Beauty. It was many, many years ago and it was one of the first songs I had. I had an orange iPod which I got for Christmas and I only had this song on it for years. I still think if I went into that iPod now, this is the only song I would have on it. I haven’t had it for years though, and they were such nice colours.

“It’s good for walks in the forest, it’s like everything is still. Another is the Finding Nemo soundtrack which is also good for timeouts or when you go for walks. It’s really lovely.”

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“The Hunter” by Mastodon

“I really love heavy metal. I’m very open, so I don’t really care about genres and often with heavy metal I just like it. I was a huge fan of many heavy metal bands when I was a kid, the first concert I went to was Gojira and then Mastodon and then Slayer. I was eleven and I really loved it.

“None of my friends liked the music and so I remember feeling at home at the shows, because I met people who understood it. It’s so angry without being hostile if you really listen to it, but it can sound hostile to people who don’t understand it.

“This is quite a calm song by Mastodon. It’s a childhood memory, but a song that allowed me to discover Mastodon with a more melodic song than most heavy metal bands I knew. I saw them play two times actually.

“I try and turn what I love about heavy metal into something that more people can understand, like in songs like “Under The Water” and “The Seed”, the single I just released, is more heavy. I like the weight.”

“The Partisan” by Leonard Cohen

“I did this song for an installation at a museum in Montreal, I covered it in one of the rooms in his memory and it was really an honour. It was all of his life and achievements as pieces of art in the museum, and they asked artists to showcase his art so that people could see those that he influenced.

“I really love this song. I know that he speaks of the Second World War and I think that’s not often spoken about, considering how much pain it brought the world. Also, in art and music we don’t really paint or sing much about it but it’s important that people talk about it, because it’s something we carry on our shoulders and we did it to each other as a species.

“I think about it a lot, but it’s good to distance ourselves from the memory too. I have a few songs about the matter, though some are more obvious than others.”

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“Hide and Seek” by Imogen Heap

“This is a really sad song for me. I listened to it in a sad stage of my life, I could have gotten through without it, but it encouraged self-pity and staying in the sorrow, and I think that’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes you can stay for a while on things and cry and move on a bit later. I never listen to this song anymore because it reminds me of a sad time, but it’s still an important song to me.

“I like Imogen Heap as a producer. I like the vocoder on this, even though I think she’s using a different machine than the standard vocoder; I don’t really like the way a vocoder makes double voices sound so thin. If it sounds like I’m using a vocoder then I have always made it myself, but it’s a good balance here with this song. It works. I think vocoders are an ugly thing, but the way it’s executing its mission in this song is good.

“A Different Kind Of Human” is out now via Decca.

#aurora #aurora aksnes #interviews #step 2

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