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hexonthepeach · 2 years

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dark & stormy 6&7: aftermath & epilogue

summary: you’re a housekeeper in a seedy hotel working through the worst hurricane of the season when you’re invited to spend the evening with your two sexy but enigmatic co-workers. when you accidentally uncover their secret identities you're dragged into a darker world—one you may already know too well

pairing: jaehyun (nct) x johnny (nct) x fem!reader (code name: jenny)

genre: the late-70s/early-80s miami vice/nice guys/secret agent johnjae/reader au no one asked for or: a work of madness inspired by the infamous w korea shoot

word count: 9.7k of 63k

warnings: explicit sexual content (m/f, m/m, mmf threesome) [see chapters for detailed tags], dark themes, implied murder, drug-use (alcohol, quaaludes), drugging w/o consent, stalking, kidnapping (non-sexual), bondage, minor knifeplay/gunplay, slight age gap [y/n early 20s, jj late 20s/early 30s], y/n implied dark origins/criminal history (OC vibes but history left open for interpretation), sleep paralysis/nightmares, walk-on guest appearances from other nct members inc. sungtaro in later chapters

fic masterlist

read on AO3

chapter warnings: nothing you haven't seen before but! explicit sex, discussion of kink, heavy sir kink, service top!johnny, double penetration [f receiving], anal penetration [f receiving], blindfolds, edging, coming inside (established earlier y/n is on birth control)

recommended listening: Roberta Flack's 1973 album Killing Me Softly

"Rise and shine," Johnny says, voice filtering though layers of sleep as Jaehyun re-enters the world.

Jaehyun’s left hand dips heavy with the loaded Browning, swaying as he aims it for the wall instead of the man obscuring his bedroom doorway.

"You know if I wanted you dead you would have been gone five minutes ago."

“Go away," Jaehyun mutters. His mouth is sour with sleep and day-old bourbon as he turns to set the gun on the nightstand rather than tucking it back under the unused pillow on his bed. The clock reads a quarter past ten. It’s not late but later than he expected, having crawled into the sheets at dawn that day.

"How'd you get in?" Jaehyun asks when he finally accepts that Johnny isn't leaving.

"You gave me a key, dumbass. What are you doing out of the hospital?"

"Then lock up on your way out,” he answers, collapsing back into the pillows. The minor gesture has him wincing at the throb from his Frankensteined shoulder. In a better world he'd be operative by now, but he’d learned all too well a side effect of untreated open wounds was blood poisoning.

“Brought you a gift," Johnny says, shaking an orange plastic container. He eyes the whiskey bottle on the nightstand. "Probably not a good idea to mix."

"I already told Zhong I'm not taking that shit," Jaehyun grumbles.

"Different kind of pain, huh?" Johnny tosses something on the bed. “Brought something for that too.”

"Shouldn't have." Jaehyun kicks the bundle off his legs–flowers from the shape and the rustle of plastic.

"They're not from me."

He can’t remember waking up but he can read between the lines of his partner’s words. It's as effective as an ice bath, making him sit up again.

"Figured you'd need a few extra hands since yours is out of commission," Johnny’s silhouette nods towards the cloth arm brace he's wearing, a requirement for leaving observation. It's annoying but a useful reminder to not to put weight on the healing muscle.

“Who's here?” Jaehyun asks, guarded.

“Who do you think? Get up and eat.”

The smell hits him, warm and fragrant. He feels like one of those cartoons following the smell of a pie on a windowsill as he shuffles out of bed, the cool air a shock with the way his sweats are plastered to his skin.

"God you need a shower," Johnny jokes, helping him when he finds it difficult to stand. Jaehyun shoves his good elbow into his ribs half-heartedly.

This close he can read so much more from his partner: the restaurant smell of fried food and beer, but also the faint trace of lipstick on his collar and the brightness in his eyes.

Johnny is always performing some kind of act when he's feeling anxious but this is different. Seven years of shared service had given Jaehyun a view behind the curtain enough times to know he’s troubled.

“Why did you bring her here?” he asks.

“She asked me to,” Johnny says with a trace of dishonesty, letting his arm go.

It's been unseasonably cold in April, and the rain is a sheet over the windowed attic roof overhead. Everything else under it would seem to be in the right place, if not for the figure in his kitchen, straining to reach the dark-glazed bowls he’s sure have gathered dust since he’s last used them.

You're still wearing a thick, wool coat and he’s reminded how dismally cold it is in his apartment, with its exposed brick interior and practically non-existent glass walls and ceiling. At the best of times he has a view of the stars beyond the city lights, but now the space feels so much smaller.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You turn around, just slow and deliberate enough that he knows you’ve been hanging on every word of exchange behind you. It's hard to have privacy in a loft. Jaehyun hadn’t bought it expecting company.

Seeing the pitiful look on your face has him ready for flight. Not just pitiful because of the obvious discomfort but in how you’re looking at him right now, like you’re afraid he’s going to break if you speak.

"Hey," you say, forgetting the dishes. "Are you alright?"

He wants to go back into his room but Johnny is right behind him and there really isn't an exit besides his front door or the rickety old fire escape.

"Yeah." Jaehyun says. He forgets not to lift his right hand to his head until the pain of movement has him reeling.

In the few moments between accepting he might pass out a second time in front of you and still finding himself upright you wrap your arms around his middle. Moisture seeps into the cotton of his shirt as you pretend not to cry in the same stubborn manner he’s seen before.

"It's really not that bad." Jaehyun pats your back awkwardly with his left hand, angling away his brace. It hurts but not nearly enough to break contact, not with you holding him like your life depends on it.

"I missed you," you say into his breastbone. The tone of your voice is heavy enough he knows you're not talking about the last week.

"I missed you, too," he admits, resting his cheek on the top of your head. It's like you'd never been separated since that last conversation in Verona, the joy of having you back in his life just as fragile.

Still, this is what he really needed, he thinks. He recognizes the lemony, powdery scent of Love's Baby Soft under whatever expensive products you're wearing these days. It's comforting to know that beneath that newly polished exterior the girl who'd hid from him in an empty room whenever he was in the same hallway would always be there, just under the surface.

He's never told you what it was like to wait. He'd only been able to show you, in that weird way that had you as still and braced for flight more times than he could count. You were always the predator waiting in the grass in his mind: too smart for your own good, too patient to land the killing blow when that's all he really wanted.

Johnny had figured out the same thing, months ago, sitting in a police holding cell in the Reykjavik airport, of all places.

"She knows," he says, still laughing at the fact that they'd been picked up after an emergency triage of their Swedish language skills hadn't saved them from a cursory interrogation and a call to the American embassy. "Flagged us and disappeared in the time it took us to get to the terminal."

Jaehyun says nothing, picking at the gold braid on the pilot's uniform they'd lifted before trying their hand at the last flight out.

"You sure do know how to pick them, brother."

"She'd be at Quantico right now if it wasn't for you," Jaehyun answers.

"A waste." He can hear how it picks at the man's pride to be questioned about that decision.

He’d seen it play out over months in dive bars near Control, where they’d gone back to their pre-operation roles: Jaehyun patiently listening and defusing the conversation whenever it circled back, inevitably, to the newest recruit, Johnny threatening to break into the company Rolodex after too many Old Fashioneds.

Somehow in the time since she'd been given basic clearance to NeoTech every secretary and assistant on every floor had become immune to his charms, like the Ghost of Exes Past had walked through and warned them of where that road would lead to.

Even steadfast Moon Taeil hadn’t broken, smiling like a saint when asked for information about her that breached past clerical. "Got it bad, Suh? Why don't you just try asking her out?"

That was the last time Johnny had tried to get her contact information, the story already an office legend once Donghyuck heard about it. Thank Christ the surveillance boys were still the picture of innocence with regard to the events at Magic Carpet. Johnny’s regular gifts of coffee and kolaches to their van during stakeouts was sign enough that he'd worried about it.

Everyone seemed to know but her.

"She'd be poring through call records for three years before seeing daylight," Johnny says, as if he isn't also under lock and key because of her tip. He's assuring himself more than his partner.

"You really don't see it, do you?" Jaehyun says.

The last time he'd been in the same building with you was all the way back in Gran Hotel Ciudad in Mexico City, where you'd mingled with the black-suited vultures closing in on some shady IMF meet-up. All those scavengers picking at the bones of a country in crisis couldn't see you coming, your teeth shining bright as you went in for the kill.

He’d kept tabs on you from well above the lobby, watching as you spun your web in a gold lamé evening dress and blonde wig. It took less than a half-an-hour for you to leave, separately of course, an untouched cocktail traded for a room key.

Another fatcat foreign banker dying of natural causes wouldn't make local papers, much less international ones, but that was the beauty of your work: small and necessary changes with downwards cascading effects towards something better. Uncelebrated and too ugly to look at closely, like wiping the dust off a grimy wall with the hopes that if you did it enough times it might be clean someday.

The closest he'd gotten to being marked was the day after, when he’d followed you to Chapultepec Park. Johnny was nursing a headache after a night on comms, so Jaehyun had gone alone, unsure of where your path was taking you now that the job was out the door on a white-sheeted stretcher and loaded into a quiet ambulance.

He didn't expect you to go to the zoo.

You'd beelined past the butterfly exhibit for the main attraction, the flimsy chain-link fence separating you and a crowd of children with preciously-held balloons and cheap merchandise. You'd all watched through the fence as a large, round ball of black and white fur carefully picked from a pile of bamboo, its back turned to the crowd.

You'd waited long after others walked away from the disappointing display, no signs of fidgeting or disquiet. Just a woman in a red coat, your hair covered in a shawl better suited to someone older.

He'd wondered how long it would take you to give up and find a different vantage.

And then, like a dandelion fuzz caught on the wind, a smaller ball of black and white broke free of its mother's reach, tiny legs toddling into the dusty yard.

"El pequeño panda!" repeated chant-like around you, growing louder before breaking into quiet applause. As careful as observers were to not disturb the baby panda, the crowd surged to see it, and in an instant he'd lost you.

Later, wandering through an aviary of birds, fighting to glimpse a flash of red in the greenery, he realized you'd lost him.

"You chase her but she’s never going to be the one who gets caught." Jaehyun finds himself explaining. "She‘s better than either of us."

As inept as he feels he's still able to pull your chin up with his offhand to kiss your face. He follows the tracks of smudged mascara down to your lips. And then he holds, letting you lead, even if it kills him.

He's back in the dark of a basement pool, knowing you'll follow. There’s the careful response, reading intent, waiting for an explosive risk that will never come. A trauma response he understands too well, just like he understands when you finally close in to consume him.

You don't seem to mind that his mouth stays closed, kissing him deeply for the both of you. Your hands thread over the back of his neck, gentle to keep from hurting him, as you show him what he already knows.

"Well, I should get going," Johnny says nonchalantly, giving you both a wide berth as he skirts towards the door. It's not nearly enough space–you turn around and snatch his jacket, yanking so hard he stumbles.

"No," you say. "Don't think you can weasel out of this."

Jaehyun meets Johnny's apologetic look over you, tossing his head rather than shrugging.

"Stay," Jaehyun says. "We have a lot to talk about."

Another room, another rainy evening edging into hours past the acceptable point of socialization. But there’s a different kind of mood as you put the record on the hi-fi, the black and gold sleeve propped up on the clean shelf.

You turn up the volume knob until the ambient recording drowns out the drum of the weather, Roberta Flack's vocals put to tape a decade ago rising over a familiar melody.

"I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style

And so I came to see him, to listen for a while . . ."

By the chorus you’ve moved away from the sound system, sitting at the dinette set table next to the man picking from an already-withered clutch of daisies. You’d bought them from a bodega near the restaurant, sure they wouldn't live long in the bottle you'd dumped them in after pouring spoiled milk out of it. At least you think they add a touch of sun to the clean but dark space.

"He loves me . . ." You pluck from the flower Johnny’s mangling, yellow pollen dusting your fingers.

". . . she loves me not," he says, crushing a petal.

He leans back in the too-small chair, eyeing the doorway to Jaehyun's bedroom. Both of you spend a few moments listening to the shower as it continues, gauging his response before speaking again.

"Thank you for . . . “ you say.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about keeping me here," he jests, lamely.

"Fuck off," you shoot back immediately.

His eyes go wide, but so does his smile. "That’s better."

"I was going to thank you for introducing me to the best late night restaurant in the DMV," you sigh with a dramatic flourish. "Shame you can't take a compliment."

"I told you, it's his favorite Tom Kha Gai. Also it's not usually open that late, I'm just that good."

"Oh really," you say. "Someday you'll tell me how you ended up fluent in Thai."

"Someday," he assures.

"What does dor sun mean, exactly?"

"Nothing you have to trouble yourself with," Johnny says. "Before I go–"

"You're not leaving," you cut him off.

"As I was saying, before I go," Johnny acts like he hasn't heard a word out of your mouth. "I'd like to see you again, alone. Maybe one drink. Or two. To celebrate, of course."

"You're really going." You can't hide the disappointment that seeps into your realization.

"Just looking out for both of us, babydoll," Johnny says, grabbing his overcoat from where it's draped over the couch. “We’ll see each other at the office.”

“Is that all this is to you?”

The shower stops in the next room, leaving you both hanging as the next track on the record begins. It’s an appropriately sad song for a goodbye which is why you move to turn the stereo down immediately, knob twisting in time with his own on the door handle.

"You convinced me to stay earlier and now you're the one running," you continue. "Do I really scare you that much?"

"No," he says, not turning around but not opening the door.

"If you're going, I'm going–"

There's a loud clank and a ringing behind you as something hits the table, both of you turning to see Jaehyun set down a bottle. He’s still shirtless and wet-haired from the shower, the sling he’d been wearing discarded on the table.

"Feels like I'm watching Days Of Our Lives," he laments, pouring clumsily from the half-empty bottle of Maker’s Mark into his water glass. "Either of you walks out and I'm drinking this entire thing by myself."

Your attention stays on Johnny, praying he'll give in before you do. You see the indecision burning in his brown eyes, flicking between you and the door.

"Drinking game. My choice," Jaehyun says, downing two fingers without a sign he’s registering the burn.

“One condition,” Johnny says, sighing. “Take it easy or I’ll drag you back to medical.”

You’re sure the threat is real from the atypical irritation in his movements. He drops his things by the door, sliding past you without looking at you except to turn the song back up. Again you chase him, this time into the kitchen where he’s retrieving glasses and ice.

“What‘s your problem?”

You’re blindsided by this change after the easy chatter you’d had earlier, sitting in an empty, neon-lit restaurant teasing each other over bottles of Singha. Talking to Johnny had distracted you from your nervousness, even if part of the reason you felt so out-of-sorts was sitting across from you, picking at a green papaya salad.

He’d seen your relief that Jaehyun wasn’t in his mandated bed, and while he didn’t say anything about it you needed to explain. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see him, but that you just really didn't know what to say.

That open conversation in Verona made you realize how completely unschooled you were in the messy business of feelings. Sex was easy, or at least you'd thought it was; you knew how simple it would be to disappear into the chemistry that had always been there.

This–being wanted, wanting someone back–was like reading a map of the moon while strapped to a rocket on a collision course with it.

“I’ve never . . . Done this.”

Johnny doesn’t react with his usual quippy response.

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never dated anyone?” he asks.

“You know my record.” You pick at the label on your beer bottle. “I’m just . . . going to need your help to figure all this out.”

“I’m flattered but you’re asking the wrong person.” He smirks at you, but you don’t miss the way he fidgets, clearly wanting an out from the conversation.

Everything you’d heard about him not being the “feelings type” wasn’t going to deter you, not when you knew someone like Jaehyun trusted him with his life, and with whatever intimacy they had outside your purview.

“You’ve never dated, either?” you ask.

“There’s probably a few people out there who’d be upset if I said ‘no’,” he jokes. “Job doesn’t really allow for it.”

“Could it, though, if you wanted it to?”

Johnny smiles wryly, looking away as the owner returns with two grocery bags loaded with much more than you'd heard him order.

“Let me know when you find out.”

Behind you Jaehyun has sat at the old but loved piano taking up a corner of the room, playing a one-handed accompaniment to the music. It gives you an opening to close in on Johnny, touching his arm and making him look down at you.

“Seriously, be honest with me, what’s your problem?” You repeat.

He pushes you into the counter with a movement of his hips, reaching around you to drop ice in a set of mismatched crystal tumblers.

“I don’t have a problem.” Johnny says just loud enough for you to hear. “You two have a problem. And a critical lack of communication skills. Just talk to him. Or don’t, I don’t know. Make it simple.”

“I wanted you to–”

“You really don’t need me here to mediate,” he says. “You’d be fucking it out right now instead of having another of your little mope sessions.”

He’s jealous, you think. You feel a tiny bit of satisfaction that he’s being honest with you, even if it isn’t direct.

“That sounds suspiciously like our problem,” you say, pressing back into him. “Is this a classic case of projection?”

Johnny looks at you like he's embarrassed for the both of you, cringing.

“At least let me get drunk before you psycho-analyze me,” he says. “And don’t say I'm deflecting.”

You don’t give him the satisfaction of taking his bait. “Earlier when I was asking for help figuring this all out, you do know I was talking about us, right?”

“Us as in all—“

“You and I, whatever we are.”

“Right,” he says. “Now you know why I wanted to leave.”

“You’re not leaving,” Jaehyun interrupts from the other side of the room, sounding exasperated. “And if anyone is mediating, it’s me. Get over here.”

Johnny opens his mouth to say something but immediately stops, gritting his teeth.

“Thank you again for being here,” you say, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

The look he gives you is dangerous, especially with proximity.

“You should be saying ‘sorry’,” he says, under his breath. You act like you don’t have a clue as to what he means, smiling carefully. He doesn’t break his stare, slowly backing you out of the kitchen.

“Scratch that: you will be,” he promises as he passes by.

It takes a second to compose yourself, the apartment feeling much warmer. You shrug out of your coat and a second layer of suit jacket, untucking your blouse before sitting down between the two men at the table.

“No strip poker I take it,” Johnny says, already drinking.

“No Never Have I Ever, either.” You shake your head.

“Two truths and a lie.” Jaehyun informs you.

“You sure that’s fair to her?” Johnny asks, cryptically.

“You’d be surprised at what I know about you,” you answer for him. “And what you still don’t know about me.”

“Fair enough,” Johnny says. “Truth and lies it is.”

“I’ll start,” Jaehyun says, pouring two fingers of whiskey followed by an equal amount of water. “I’ve never ridden a horse. I won a state championship for swimming 200m freestyle. My first assignment was in the Philippines.”

“Lame,” Johnny says. “It’s the horse one.”

You nod to indicate your guess.

“Drink,” he says. “It was the 400m.”

“Even more lame.” Johnny says, swallowing. You sip yours, meeting Jaehyun’s eyes over the rim of the glass.

“Your turn.”

“I’m allergic to cats. I don’t like okra. I didn’t graduate high school.” You look up and find them nodding at each other in some kind of secret agreement.

“Cats,” they both say, in stereo.

“Drink.”

“What? You have one—“ Johnny says, cutting short when he realizes his admission. “I saw the hair on your coat.”

”Allergy shots,” you shrug. “I don’t mind okra.”

“You two having a contest to see which one of you is more boring?” Johnny asks, scowling. “Can we move on to the fun part?”

“By all means,” Jaehyun says.

“Let’s see,” he rolls the glass on the tabletop. “I had my tonsils taken out when I was nine. I was born in Chicago’s South Side. I haven’t had sex with anyone in over a year.”

“The sex one, obviously,” you say, but Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Different neighborhood, right?” he asks, earning a nod from Johnny.

“Oh,” you say, drinking. You’re flushed, transported back to the Tiger’s Den.

“It’s actually been two years, but that’s still over a year,” Johnny says, staring at you. “No offense Jae, drunken hand-jobs don’t count.”

“None taken,” the other man says tiredly, pouring more liquor.

“So?” Your face is burning, not just from the whiskey. “What do you want, a medal?”

“For starters it would be nice if you stopped telling new people that I’m a—and I quote—‘walking, talking health risk’.”

“Take it up with Donghyuck, he’s the reason the secretarial pool thinks you have syph—“

“Stop it.” Jaehyun snaps. “None of us have slept with other people since Miami, none of us is handling it well.”

Neither of you have a rebuttal.

“So try this for two truths and a lie: Johnny is in love with you,” Jaehyun starts, ignoring the startled look on his friend’s face. “He mistakenly thinks this makes him a bad friend. He was planning on telling you all of this.”

The record has played out, so Jaehyun’s words are punctuated by the mechanical click of the arm automatically moving away.

“I was. Eventually,” Johnny says, but he still drains his glass. He looks at Jaehyun pointedly. “And to be clear, I don’t think it makes me a bad friend to you.”

“It does, but not for the reasons you think, John,” Jaehyun says, quietly. He places his hand over yours on the table. “You okay?”

“No,” you confess, still watching Johnny act like the exposure of his feelings means as much as a weather forecast. “My turn, then.”

They both look at you like you’re a bomb set to explode, tense and unsure of how to stop it. You let them suffer as you think of the best way to word what you’ve wanted to say since you’d left them in Florida.

“If I can’t be with both of you, romantically and equally, I would rather we just end it here,” you say, trying not to quake with how hard it is to say aloud. “I spent two years lying to myself about my own feelings and what I’m capable of and I’m tired of it.”

You feel like you’re rambling, waiting for Johnny to chime in or Jaehyun to move to you, but they let you catch your breath. You finish your drink, lips numbed.

“And I am definitely, absolutely, fully sane and rational and not in love with two of the dumbest and most frustrating men I have ever met in my entire life.”

You wait for them to respond, feeling like the earth has slowed down enough that you’re no longer crushed under the gravity fixing you to your seat.

Jaehyun speaks first, hand rising to your cheek. “You’re a horrible liar.”

“Learned from the best,” you say, kissing his palm. He leans in to kiss you properly but your chair is pulled back and almost out from under you. Johnny forces you to look at him.

“We’re going to have to work out some ground rules before I share you with this loser,” he says. He’s so close you can see the day-old stubble forming on his cheeks, blushed cheeks making him look younger.

“Don’t talk about my partner that way,” you warn.

“You'll see,” he says, pulling you up his thighs. He wraps you in a surprisingly gentle embrace, chin on your shoulder. “You can take over wrangling him out of his moods.”

"He’s talking about his moods," Jaehyun says wryly.

“Does this mean you’re not mad at me, anymore?” you ask.

“No," he says, kissing your cheek. “But I’m grateful you’ll have me anyway.”

“As if I’m not the lucky one—“ you begin, interrupted when Johnny stands up, arm wrapped under your thighs, taking you with him.

“Where do you want her?”

“I haven’t changed the sheets—“ Jaehyun says.

“Couch, then,” Johnny says, impatiently. “This isn’t going to reopen your stitches again, is it?”

“Again?” You look over his shoulder to see Jaehyun flexing his right arm with a grim smile on his face.

“Not if we’re careful.”

“You hear that baby, you’re going to have to be gentle with him,” Johnny says into your hair. “I’m not going to promise the same thing.”

“Don’t you think we should wait—“

“No,” they answer in unison as you’re dumped on the low sofa, Jaehyun sitting down beside you. You climb up onto your knees to inspect his injury, kissing the top of his shoulder once you’ve confirmed it’s healing well, fully closed and not radiating redness.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, trailing light kisses up his neck. He’s tense beneath your exploration, a little more than uncertain when you reach his mouth.

“Not anymore,” he sighs. “But really, I don’t want to rush you—“

"We can take our time later." You cut him off, tongue tangling with his. His bare skin is hot under your touch, feeling the dusting of hair on his chest and belly as you run your hand down to the band of his track pants.

"When I'm cleared we're taking a week," he promises. You love the way his eyes flutter close as you stroke him through the thin material, Johnny rubbing your back assuringly. You turn to him but he shakes his head, more serious than you expected.

“I just want to make you feel good right now,” you tell Jaehyun. He eases a little, looking at you with unfiltered adoration. "Thank you for being there for me when I needed you."

He’s not wearing underwear and is already thick and heavy, springing free when you pull the elastic down and around his muscled thighs. Your mouth follows your hand, taking him in your mouth until you feel him nudge against the back of your throat. Every stroke on your tongue is gentle but he’s writhing within seconds from the stimulation.

Johnny moves behind you, pulling you back on your knees. You don’t mind him as you take Jaehyun’s cock deep into your throat, precum coating it with each bob of your head.

“So pretty,” Johnny says, hiking your skirt up so your garters and lingerie set are visible. You feel a cautious slap on your ass and lean into it, focusing on the head of Jaehyun’s cock when a heavier blow lands on your thigh, nearer to your aching sex.

“Oh,” you say when he slaps between your legs, hand teasing through the damp silk.

“Still wet from when I almost fucked you on that conference table,” Johnny says. “Dirty little thing.”

“Not . . ." Jaehyun groans as each strike has you taking him deeper down your throat again. "We eat on that table."

“You should have seen Doyoung’s face,” Johnny says, making you move with gentle pats between your legs, following each up with a teasing rub. “Said we needed a form.”

Jaehyun isn’t far enough gone yet to not laugh at that. He pulls you off of him so he can kiss you, while your hand continues to work. His eyes are glazed once he’s done tasting himself on you, good hand fumbling at your blouse.

“Which one of us do you want first, baby?”

You glance behind you at Johnny kneeling on the couch, admiring the way he’s rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Think you can wait?”

“I can do better than that,” he says, sliding forward until he's pressed against you. You expect him to help you undress but instead he guides your leg over Jaehyun’s lap, hand moving up to pull your underwear to the side. You gasp as he nuzzles your neck below your ear. "You asked me for help, didn't you?"

You take your cue, gripping the back of the couch to steady yourself. Jaehyun's head follows, bent back when the other man helps angle his cock into you, finding you wet but oh-so-so-so-tight. Your mind dissolves with the first push, your body struggling to stretch after so long without.

“Good girl.” Johnny says, taking over. He grabs your rucked-up skirt over your hips, forcing you down and up until you're whimpering into Jaehyun’s mouth. Once you're coated enough to slide with ease Johnny guides you at a more punishing pace, not satisfied until you're riding the way he wants you to.

"Fuck," Jaehyun shudders, his hand coming up to palm you through your shirt. He fights at it until Johnny helps him unbutton and pull it open.

"Taste her for me," he says, freeing your breasts of the sheer fabric of your bra. Jaehyun's teeth scrape at the meat of them as he sucks on you, Johnny tweaking your other nipple into hardness.

"You're so good to me," you say, movement slowing as your hand snakes down to your aching core. Your lace underwear is making you feel constricted and you want him to feel you come before he loses it, but Johnny catches your wrist, holding it to the couch cushion until you stop fighting him.

Your other hand settles on his thigh, attempting to turn to kiss him while rocking up and down on Jaehyun. He grabs the back of your neck, fingers trapping you like a kitten by the scruff.

“Eyes on him,” he instructs. “Let me be your hands.”

Just that offer has you feeling hotter than a burning building, mind blanking when Johnny reaches down between you to lift your underwear to the side. He expertly rolls your clit with the pads of his fingers, making you cry out and Jaehyun moan when you clench around him.

His beautiful face is your whole world, the sharp pain of joy inside your chest feeding the growing tension inside you. You surrender control outside of how fast and how deep you can take him knowing he’s being pushed to the brink just as quickly.

“You’re so good,” you say, standing on your knees to take him so deep on the downward that you feel him in your core. Jaehyun rocks up into you, making low noises in the back of his throat as he fights his release. You kiss his nose and cheek, licking the sweat from his upper lip before biting it.

“I’m not—I’m—“ he says into your mouth. You can feel the build, can sense the way his breathing goes staccato, all while Johnny pulls you tighter like a string wrapped around his finger.

“Don’t stop,” you tell him. "Come for me, my love."

In moments Jaehyun crumbles, jerking up into you, quiet and yet somehow loud in the way his mouth is open and eyes are shut, releasing inside you.

You repeat the words silently as you settle into his lap, not wanting to follow so quickly but taken down anyway as Johnny applies just the right pressure in circles in your folds, making you orgasm so hard your vision flashes white as you seize around the pulsing cock inside you.

You finish with a whimper, kissing Jaehyun until his eyes finally open again.

"I don't think I actually woke up today," he murmurs, nose nudging yours. "Thank you for such a nice dream."

"Anything for you," you say, suddenly conscious that there's no one at your back.

You break away from kissing Jaehyun to claw at the man behind you, fingers twisting in Johnny’s vest and tugging him until he's close enough for you to taste the whiskey on his tongue.

You have a moment to feel everything you've been missing in that contact before Johnny leans forward to grab Jaehyun's face and give him the same deep kiss, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth when he parts.

"That was my way of saying sorry for being a bad friend," Johnny says. "And for the hand job comment."

“Thanks, I guess,” Jaehyun says once he’s able to breathe freely again. He’s beautifully fucked out and messy against the cushions, still favoring his right side.

“You can make it up to me later,” Johnny says, attention back on you as he pulls you off of him, hand cupped around your sex to keep the drip of cum off the couch. He settles for taking off your shirt and using it to clean up the mess.

You think you’re going to have a moment to reacclimate yourself but Johnny lifts you up again, hoisted into a bridal carry.

"I'm taking this to the bedroom," he says. "Be a pal and give me a head start.”

"There's clean–" Jaehyun begins.

"Fuck the sheets," Johnny says. “You can change them after I make her regret getting herself into this arrangement.”

You struggle only for as long as it takes for Johnny to take you into the half-lit room and plant you on the bed. He crouches over you where you lay, belt buckle digging into your bare thigh.

“You know you don’t scare me,” you say, sitting up on your elbows, bracing for an attack.

“Who says I want you to be afraid?” He counters, lifting you up. Once you're eye-to-eye and perched in his lap he waits, studying you, clearly with something to say.

"Then what do you want, sir?" The reminder of your offer is meant to be flirtatious but his response is bordering on sadness. Your hand immediately rises to his cheek as if you can keep the smile on his face by holding it there.

"I'm not going to lie and say I don't like hearing that," Johnny says, cautiously. "Just not right now."

"Okay," you concede. "Would you rather call me ma'am?"

He pulls you closer, forehead knocking against yours. "Stop being a brat for five seconds and let me think."

You nod into him, all too quickly reminded that he's still fully dressed while you’re half-naked and growing colder by the second.

It's clear Johnny is stalling when he breathes out explosively.

"Fuck, this is hard," he says. You don't interrupt, but you do run a hand through the long hair settling on his jaw, letting him know you're with him as he closes his eyes to find security.

"This was supposed to be something we talked about on the third or fourth date," he says. "I've had a few years to think about it, too, you know."

“We can still do that,” you say, earning a tap on your mouth from his finger.

"The one thing I kept going back to was that I wished I could have had my head screwed on straight when Jaehyun told me what kind of person you were. I think we got off on the wrong foot."

Your expression makes him wince a little at his own words.

"Not the–not anything we did, sex included," he explains. "Well, maybe the sex. The fighting-as-foreplay thing is nice, but if I'm being honest with you, I'm really not that kind of guy."

"I never would have guessed," you say, unable to refrain from teasing him.

He re-adjusts, clearly distracted by your weight on his thigh. "I have some pride, you know. I don’t want to just be someone you go to when you need a release with no strings attached."

"You know that’s not what I want, either," you say.

"Good,” he breathes. “Because I'm not a jealous person but I think I will be if I don't get all of you, when I want and how I want."

He leans in and kisses you, mouth tracing your pulse in your neck. "Do you know what I'm saying?"

You shake your head, feeling abruptly self-conscious. His hands trace lazily over your back, soothing you until you relax again.

"You're going to be a good girl for me,” he says. “Just me.”

It sounds a little like a warning, and you nod unconsciously.

"You're going to tell me what you want, and you don't get to run away or pretend like everything means nothing when it gets hard. And I promise if you can do that I can try, too."

He pulls back, studying your face. "Now tell me you regret asking me to stay."

"No," you look at him, warmly. "Why should I?"

"I really wanted to wait until we were alone but it's only fair," he says with an increase of threat. "Stand up for me."

You comply, watching as he moves to the edge of the bed, unzipping your skirt and letting it slide down your hips. Bare before him you’re reminded of the first time you’d undressed in front of him, and the way he’d kept his metaphorical cards in his pocket. You weren’t getting under his skin, anymore–he was getting under yours.

“What would you like?” You ask, placing your foot on his thigh for him to help take off your hose.

Johnny stops unclipping your stockings from your garter belt, smiling sweetly up at you.

“We can start with you calling me ‘sir’.”

His tone hasn’t changed but you sense the shift, complacent as he removes the last of your clothing, unclipping your bra and letting your ruined panties fall to the floor. He leaves your garter belt on, tugging on it to situate you between his knees.

“Yes, sir,” you say, softly.

“Do you know how to tell me when you’re feeling unsafe or uncomfortable?” He asks, stroking the outside of your leg in the same way one would pet an animal. He waits for you to reply, as calm and welcoming as he’d been in the office earlier.

“Do you mean a safe word?” you ask. “What are you wanting–"

“Traffic lights. Yellow for slow, red for stop. If I ask you if you’re green you say green. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” You bite back what you really want to say, feeling your hackles raise. “Are you sober, sir?”

“Are you?” He counters, squeezing your thigh.

“Yes." You're reminded of your role when his grip tightens on you, fingers digging in. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he says. “Just needed a baseline for what we’re going to do.”

“What did you have in mind, sir?”

“For starters I think I’d like to make you beg me to fuck you,” he says, smoothly, “and then I’ll make you beg me to let you come.”

You shiver, gooseflesh prickling your bare arms and chest. The picture that was forming in your mind of being asked to jump headfirst into some kind of kink after this whirlwind of a day is suddenly very different.

"You can watch," he says–not to you. You look over to see Jaehyun in the doorway, getting a glimpse of his neutral expression before your chin is turned back to the man in front of you.

"Did I say you could look at him?" Johnny asks.

"No, sir," you murmur. He releases your jaw after the other man has moved into the room, not to the bed but somewhere else behind you.

"You don't do anything unless I tell you to. Don’t touch yourself, don’t touch me."

"Yes, sir."

Johnny stands up, loosening his tie as he switches places with you, pushing you back only so far. You feel the bed behind you but don't sit when he hasn't told you to, surprised when he drops to his knees. He’s so tall even on the floor he can kiss your ribs, having to crouch to touch your belly with his tongue.

This is the softest you’ve seen him, and it makes your heart race, not knowing how or when that explosive strength you’ve experienced firsthand will reveal itself. You watch with growing nervousness as he leans forward to kiss the crease between your thigh and lower abdomen. The gentle glide of his tongue there has you squirming, and he taps your leg in warning.

“Hold still,” he directs, working his way to the center and your puffy lips, parting them with soft flicks of his tongue. He opens you with his thumbs to lap up and down the short path between your entrance and where you need him the most, playing with you.

It's so good and so overwhelming that your legs shake, hands ghosting over his head rather than risk him telling you not to touch him, as desperately as you want to. Your knees finally buckle when he buries his face in your cunt, tongue curling into your entrance as he holds you up with flexed forearms.

He pulls back, wiping his face on his sleeve. “Lay down."

You don’t need to be told twice, collapsing on the bed, breathing heavily as Johnny takes up position between your legs again, reaching up to run a hot hand over your breasts. He goes back to eating you out so slowly and tenderly that soon you are angling your hips, trying to get more pressure relief, but his hand splays wide on your stomach to hold you down.

“You can make noise, baby,” Johnny says. "Tell me what feels good."

You’re not used to being vocal, but it’s easy when his fingers enter the mix again. He doesn’t penetrate you, just collects the wetness in circles, barely dipping into your entrance. You grip the bed the first time his tongue flicks against your clit, feeling every brush of it as a jolt of anticipation too far and few between to have you doing anything but whining.

"Please, sir, more," you breathe, gripping the sheets so you don't forget and touch yourself.

"You think it's that easy? After making me wait for you?" He nips at the inside of your thigh. He must like your response because he bites you again, this time pulling one of your sensitive lips with a sharp tug.

It's painful but not enough to make you stop, the flat of his tongue following somehow worse. You cry out when he sucks again, and again, still with those two fingers pressing just far enough to remind you that you're empty.

"Please, please sir," you moan, feeling like it's been an eternity since you'd begun. "Please fuck me with your fingers."

Johnny slips one finger inside you, hooking up to the roughness inside. Your hips move on their own, and he pulls out, reaching up to squeeze your breast.

"Relax or you get nothing."

It's actually difficult to not be tense, consciously willing yourself to limpness until he's satisfied. He pulls on your sensitive nipple, returning to his work.

Johnny's hands have always engulfed your own in size but just half of one digit is a cruelty compared to when you've abused yourself on your own. He pumps inside of you slowly, letting you pull him in when you consciously squeeze around him.

"Pretty girl wants to swallow me whole," Johnny says, almost admiringly. "You want more?"

"Yes sir, please," you plead.

"What's that?" He asks, giving you two fingers again but letting his hand rest the moment he’s inside of you. Your mind races for the right thing to say in spite of your incoherency, gripping around him as if it would do you any favors.

"I need to know what you want, baby girl."

“More please,” you say, but he pulls out, lapping lazily.

“Please, sir,” you correct.

“I don’t think you’ve earned it, yet,” he says lightly. He sucks on your clit without warning, making you jerk.

“Please give me your fingers, sir,” you whine. He’s getting more aggressive in his actions, pulling on your hood and letting spit drip down on it.

“Be specific.”

“Three, please, sir?” you ask. “Just fill me, please.”

You hear him huff, reaching to a completely unexpected destination, much lower. His attention is on your rim, gentle as he pushes against the much tighter hole.

“Green?”

“Green, sir,” you say, relaxing now that you’re over the initial shock. He probes with a single finger, stretching you as your cunt clenches around nothing.

It's a new sensation, taking a while to get accustomed to, but not unpleasant. You can feel how close it is to typical penetration, how it must feel so much more intense for the person inside.

"Breathe, baby," Jaehyun says, from the corner of the room. You sneak a look at him, seeing his fist dropping lazily over his lap in a way that has fire igniting in your body.

Johnny's off you so quickly you don't even realize he's gone until you hear the nightstand drawer opening.

"Did I say you could look at him?" He asks.

"No sir, I'm sorry–"

"You know how to play games but you don't know the rules," he drawls. "You only say sorry when I tell you to be."

You nod rather than reply, hands clenched at your sides, looking at the ceiling as your thighs close on the need you've laid bare, wetness cooling as it dries.

Johnny sits beside you on the bed, removing his clothing.

"Look at me," he instructs. You roll your head, and whatever he sees on your face prompts him to hold it, lifting your head gently and wrapping the embroidered silk of his tie around your face.

With the impromptu blindfold on there's nothing but the sound of your own breathing and the involuntary shudder that courses through you as you feel lost to that blank space. It's too much, too soon, but you can’t bring yourself to say the word yellow.

Johnny fixes your hair, pulling errant strands from the fabric. You flinch when he touches your face, thumb tracing your lips.

"Shh. You're safe here, I'm never going to hurt you or make you afraid. Even if you want that, we'll talk through it first," he assures you. "Are we good?"

You nod. "Green. Sir."

"Thank you," he says, pulling your hand from where it's wrapped defensively around your middle. He places it on his bare chest, letting you feel how much his heart is pounding.

"You really are such a good girl. Now show me what you want."

He brings your hand down with yours, lets you figure out how to unbuckle his belt and undress him in the dark. You want to surge forward but it's so much more beautiful discovering him with your fingers, without any reminders of the outside world besides the soft drum of rain outside.

Johnny isn't quiet whenever you find a sensitive place to touch or place your mouth, letting out a moan when you wrap both hands around him, finding each vein and ridge with your tongue until he's pulling you back by the hair.

"That’s enough," he says.

There's no fighting or protesting left in you, as much as you want to make him feel what you feel. You're enraptured the moment his mouth is on yours again, supported by long fingers holding your neck as he fills you with the taste of your own arousal.

You've got a good memory, you'd been kissed plenty today and in the past, but this is so different it may as well be another person. He's tender, every move laced with barely-contained passion, not fucking you at all but somehow still making love to you as he drops over you on the bed.

“This is what I wanted, baby. You with your walls down. No games,” he hums. Johnny pulls you on to your side, still kissing you deeply. You can feel his length against your belly like a brand, leaving a trail.

"I want you to come without touching yourself," he says, breath on your cheek as he reaches over you. "I want to feel it."

You don't know what he means but you're not thinking anymore, feeling something cold and liquid slide over your backside, right before he penetrates you with his fingers. You can't count while trying to calm yourself, little aahs fed into his mouth.

"Please, please fuck me," you cry out, arching into him and wrapping your leg around his hip. His body against you grants just a little relief every time he slides up against your throbbing cunt, but you don’t force it.

"So tight, baby," he says, "Just a little more. Relax for me."

You melt into him, relishing the way his fingers push you open, fingernails in his shoulders transcribing your comfort when your words are gone. He still isn't in you, not even when you're truly begging, curled into his chest.

"I'll come, I'll come," you promise.

"Stop torturing her," Jaehyun says, moving behind you.

Johnny's fingers slip out of you, replaced by something much larger and warmer, only the tip but making you burn, your choked cry captured on Johnny’s tongue as he fucks into you at the same time.

There's nothing in the entire universe now but you and the two of them on either side of you, Jaehyun holding you tight as Johnny eases into you, hand gently pulling your thigh to angle you just so. Neither of them is moving fast or rough, just taking their time, kissing you in turns until you don't recognize whose mouth it is, unsure even of your own.

You feel how little the barrier between skin and sinew is now that you’re being pulled apart and back together again. You didn't know it could feel this good, but it’s not the fullness or the way you're being used now but the way you feel completed, like there never was an end or a beginning to the three of you at all.

"Oh god, you feel that," Johnny says, voice strangely weak. "She‘s coming so hard."

You didn't even realize but it's true, you're clenching in such powerful ticks and stops that it seems unreal. Neither of them waits, taking turns to work their way in. Jaehyun holds still when Johnny begins to let go, just half-way sheathed but rutting like he’s going to force every last ounce of your orgasm onto himself.

You know he's coming when he's ripped the blindfold from you, fingers clenched in your hair, making you watch as he fucks you full. Your belly blooms with warmth as you comfort him through his own intense finish, stilling him with kisses.

You body is still seizing around the intrusion of Jaehyun’s cock, and you jerk when he moves again behind you, penetrating you deeper than before.

"No baby," he says, holding you. "Is it too much?"

"No, please don’t stop," you tell him, face in the sheets. You feel Johnny reach over you to hold his head like he did yours, both of you assuring him as he chases his finish. It doesn't take long, soothed by gentle kisses from the other man still inside you.

Jaehyun pulls out in the end, coating your back in heat, head pressed into your shoulder. You reach behind you to feel his closed-mouth smile, making sure he knows you're with him still.

"Told you not to worry about the sheets," Johnny says, tracing circles on your temple with sticky fingers.

"Do you regret it now?" Jaehyun asks, kissing your spine. Johnny pulls back a little to check your face, and you wipe the sweat and hair from his forehead with a newfound sense of ownership.

"Not even a little bit," you say. You've never felt more confident in an answer in your entire life.

epilogue

Johnny waits at the doorway, hands going numb as the glasses in his hand sweat with humidity. It’s warmer than it should be on the coast, the air quiet except for the discordant buzz of insects in the palms and bushes outside the house. The sky is blessedly calm, burnt purple by the sunset.

You’re sitting with your feet buried in the white sand, laughing at something he can’t hear, as Jae’s shoulders curve into his own response, low and relaxed.

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but there’s a number of things that cross his mind: the absurd episode of Dallas you’d caught before the nightly news, or maybe the old woman in the grocery story who’d asked which one of the spies you were married to before giving you an earful about there only being one brand of peeled tomatoes on the island.

It had taken close to a decade to find himself here drowning in domesticity–not exactly the reward he’d imagined doing his time in shitty hotel room stakeouts or staging extrajudicial assassinations. Uncountable hours lying in wait for action were all for this: another kind of boredom, but at least a chosen one.

Taeyong had given you all two weeks, maybe three on Sanibel–an assignment, of course. Johnny knew better. That manipulative little bastard had laughed in his face the first day after everything had resolved, recognizing the spring in Johnny’s step even when he’d tried to hide it.

“You happy now?” Lee had asked, looking pleased with himself. The promotion had been his idea, as had been locking you both in his office to either fight or fuck it out. He’d been there to see the absolute disaster of your interrogation, trying to hold in laughter as the first prospective female field agent candidate in years of NCTA scouting turned the tables on them all.

You’d been a special project after that, carefully pushed around with a catspaw touch until he’d felt the time was right. It wasn’t the first time the Director had played puppeteer to keep his agents sane and functioning, buying into that new-age bullshit about psychological well-being having just as much importance as security in a job with a high risk of death or dismemberment.

Johnny was all too familiar with Taeyong’s Bohemian philosophy on the subject of sex: when one’s life was one’s work, or vice versa–get it out of your system as frequently and as safely as possible. He supposes he agrees with it, but it had never really been enough in the past and it certainly wouldn’t be now.

“Yeah, I think maybe I am,” he’d answered. Just not for the reasons you think I am, he’d thought.

And maybe he is happy. Ecstatic, even if he refuses to show it.

He’s come to realize that he’s happiest when he can just have you around, when he can know you’re taken care of and getting a full night’s sleep.

A difficult thing when you’d refused to share a bed with either of them in that capacity–you wouldn’t stay the night at either of their places if you could help it, using that dumb stray cat you’d adopted as an excuse. Jisung was probably already in Medical with toxoplasmosis from having to feed it, another concession from the Director when you’d tried to get out of this trip, too.

In a one-bedroom bungalow with a single king-size bed, your choices in how to work out the next steps in your relationship had dwindled to nil. Jaehyun had all but chained you to it (still very much something Johnny wanted to try, when and if you wanted it again). You’d fought tooth and nail, only giving in when you’d seen how much it hurt the man. As if the worst thing in the world to deny someone with a world-record-worthy count of snapped necks was a cuddle.

You claimed you weren’t used to their animal-like snoring or the tangle of limbs but Johnny knew better. He’d found you curled on a rug next to the living room table your second night of vacation and had left you there, undisturbed, your face finally free of whatever made you jolt awake in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

He knew you’d come back, eventually. In the hours before sunrise your hands would quietly encircle his neck, your nose buried in his hair or the pillow between you and Jaehyun. You’d pretend to sleep but he can feel you listen, breathing deeply, unburdened, until the light slants heavy over the ocean.

“Penny for your thoughts,” you say, looking up at him with the expression he knows too well—guarded but hopeful.

He’s told you that you’re beautiful a hundred times and he thinks maybe in a few hundred more you’ll believe him. It’s not in how you appear or even how you act but in the way you observe and are ready for whatever comes your way. That’s what he likes–you will always keep it interesting.

“You’ll need a dollar,” he says, slipping beside you and handing you your drink. Your hand closes around his, but it’s your head on his arm that makes his heart sing.

“Should have known not to put a price on whatever is going on there,” you say, taking a sip. “How did you know this is what I wanted?”

“Lucky guess,” he says. You lean in to kiss him, ginger and rum and lime on your tongue. It tastes a little like love.

previous | finis (or is it . . . ?)

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #johnny suh smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #johnny scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #johnjae x reader #nct x reader #nct reader insert #nct 127 fanfic #nct fanfic #nct 127 fic #ncta au

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virgolarity · 10 months

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Sitting in The Car, by Arctic Monkeys;

Before Arctic Monkeys, having a favorite band seemed like an in-comprehensive concept, until it clicked, and it was a ravishing experience!

Twelve years have passed since I came across this band, yet despite their ever-changing sound, somehow they’re always in correlation to the type of music I needed to hear at the time—perhaps with even better intuition than myself; especially after the release of “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball” which by surprise happened on my birthday as I was in a sorrowful state of grief for the leaking yesterdays, and it did in fact “suit the mood” at the right time and place.

the strings of “There’d Better Be a Mirrorball” longingly dance under a mirrorball as the perplexing grief the lyrics are conveying unfolds, some call it a mere coincidence, however to me, it felt like Arctic Monkeys had breached into the innermost depths of my mind and turned it into a song “don’t get emotional, that ain’t like you” allowed me to feel the yearning melancholy and eventually farewell from the grief; psychoanalyst Carl Jung calls these moments “unus mundus” and I think he’s right.

a sense of being out of place seems to be a prominent theme in this album “I Ain't Quite Where I Think I am” is a funky disco song but the narrator is expressing paranoia; could it be referring to the absurdity of this post-pandemic world or the band is portraying their perspective of the mixed reviews which their previous album received as being in a show business party but everyone there is expecting you to recreate “AM” instead of what you’re presenting, but why should a band be damned to leather jackets and sounding the same as the album they’ve released a decade ago instead of evolving.

“Sculptures Of Anything Goes” is the momentous track on this album, the song conveys this vacant darkness and perhaps the most revealing moment is “puncturing your bubble of relatability with your horrible new sound” where I sort of got the impression that they’re strongly dismissing the requests of going back “AM” era as the band has always had different music styles in each record— while towards the end Alex reveals that the popularity of ”AM” has made the transitory nature of their musical styles struggle to untangle from their AM persona “and help me to get untied from the chandelier” side note: if that “your mum” joke was referring to us longtime fans I’m alright with that.

“Jet Skis On The Moat” is the liminal point that seems to be bringing the audience a question “is there somethin' on your mind, or are you just happy to sit there and watch while the paint job dries?” are you enjoying the new route or are you ready to get out of the car? the car is taking the metaphorical role of their musical journey.

“Body Paint” creates a cinematic illusion around the ongoing theme of yearning and suspicion; staring into my subconscious like “I know you’re lying to yourself” with a dramatically heightening buildup of instruments, the entire song revolves around the line “and if you’re thinking of me, I’m probably thinking of you” as if the old romantic fool slips out.

“The Car” reminded me of Hotel California and the movie “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” like the film, the song recalls an agonizing holiday road trip as the tension of the music climbs higher and higher reaching madness.

“Big Ideas” stands in an empty hall; where once was filled with unconditional love and applause now surrounded by the orchestra and the old guitar riffs are sorrowful as they faintly appear on occasion like a faded memory. the audience doesn’t know what happened and neither is Alex.

“Hello You” the battle of strings and borrowed melodies from “knee socks” gloriously drags the one last farewell to a pivotal chapter in their journey, it apologizes for disappointments and thanks the audience for the grand times—the bridge beautifully frees the torment of contemplation and regrets and then at the highest point, it stops.

“Mr. Schwartz” contains such enigmatic lyrics “there might be half a love song in it all for you, timing-wise, it's probably for the best” makes a sly reference to their usual track list orders having a love song before the ending track, but this one isn’t. throughout the album Alex disguises as many characters that earnestly deliver his sincerest lyrical moments through what he does best, ironic metaphors that seem too clever for their own good!

“Perfect Sense” is the perfect curtain-down moment where the car reaches the final destination of an album tangled up with nostalgia, lost train of thoughts, and uncertainty.

“The Car” is quite an enigmatic journey, enfolding you in Alex Turner’s eccentric ways of conveying emotions combined with the members' impeccable instrumental moments, falsettos, and strings that pull at your heart; it’s Arctic Monkeys like they’ve always been, defying predictability.

#music #arctic monkeys #alternative #indie rock #music recs #music review #Spotify

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existentialmagazine · 10 months

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Review: Felicia Lu’s newest single ‘Bitch’ challenges engrained sexism with an alt-pop sound that’s anthemically brilliant and highly catchy

The upcoming alternative-pop artist Felicia Lu has been making waves in the music scene for going on eight years now, with her upcoming debut album soon to release in just a few months that will truly solidify her place as a sure-to-be star in the making. Along with the excitement of her genre-blending styles and personal lyricism soon to reign free in a larger body of work, Felicia has also announced her first headliner show taking place at Flex in Vienna on September 30th this year. With all of that to come, Felicia’s newest single ‘Bitch’ really sets anticipation high for what to expect, an incredibly strong single that’ll undoubtably lead into the even more vast creative concoction to come.

Hazily leading in with whirring synth and bright keyboard chimes, ‘Bitch’ at first feels a little dreamy and warm, floating through tones that exude the same aura as those pink-tainted skies at sunset. Things swiftly kick off at the knocking of the first verse though, interrupted by dominant steady beats that grow as it progresses, a dark groovy bassline and continued vibrant keyboard pops all the while Felicia’s striking vocal performance takes centre stage. Quickly delivering a spoken-sung narrative, her speeding pacing is one that’ll have you completely mesmerised and eagerly singing along in no time, caught up on every single word as well as her gorgeously elegant but slightly angsty, half-irritated, half self-assured tone. The pre-chorus takes a moment to fade back into more subdued beats and more delicate synth, a moment of tranquility before one hell of an emphatic chorus hooks you right in. Soaring through a funky beat, cascading synth pulses, protruding bass and of course Felicia’s continued strong vocals, every second of ‘Bitch’ is one you can never truly get enough of, a near three minute journey we guarantee will take over hours of your listening time if you give it a chance.

Though it’s ardently catchy and one hell of an anthem to sing along with loudly, Felicia has still penned quite the thought-provoking narrative amidst the addictive tones of ‘Bitch.’ Enraged by the constant engrained sexism that still interweaves itself within our modern day society, Felicia sings of the double-standards against men and women when it comes to dating and exploring your sexuality, speaking of the disgusting difference in how men are celebrated for their flings whilst women are continually shamed for theirs. Leading with the question ‘why is it cool to talk about how many women you’re with, and already this week alone it’s been already your fifth?’, Felicia immediately looks to hold listeners accountable, getting under their skin and asking them to look deeper if they’d judge a women for the actions they happily continue to do and speak so freely on. Noting the outdated views, lines like ‘in your own tiny head it is still 1925’ seek to finally change this perspective towards something more fitting for today’s world, allowing everyone to embrace themselves however they wish without these continual sexist undertones that seep through from the past. Felicia isn’t at all ashamed of her lifestyle, nor should she be, and lyrics like ‘to live the life I choose to live, then I will gladly be never what they wanted me’ make that very clear, not wanting to be put into a box created by the small-minded and more than willing to be herself while she pleads for the world to at the very least rethink their old-fashioned views. Even when a woman so much has a one night stand it’s not long before a string of derogatory terms are labelled her way, and ‘Bitch’ really yearns to make a difference in changing people’s minds on how they choose to think, fed up of the hypocrisy that keeps women from freely expressing themselves: ‘whenever god knows its the other way around, men just turn into clowns like women are not allowed.’ It may be an absolute banger of a release, but ‘Bitch’ is equally important in the message it has to share, hitting every avenue for what you’d want from a song and more.

Check out ‘Bitch’ here to appreciate Felicia’s bombastic sound with a meaning unafraid to promote authenticity and self expression, tearing down sexist standards as it goes.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

#music #singlereview #felicialu

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warishaaa · 1 year

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Everything has always been like purple skies, old odes, healing ale, a refrigerator full of chocolates, cinnamon rolls, ginger biscuits, a pocket full of smiles, bedtime stories where the fairy removes all misery with a magic wand, flowery memory lanes, small parks, magical sunsets, high swing sets under grey clouds smelling of fresh tea and snacks, evenly spread butter sandwiches, photo albums smelling of tears and laughter, Hot soups and whimsical lines of your favorite artists, Sunday outings, strawberry ice creams after every dentist visit, wiping the extra food off my mouth, warming my hands before leaving for school, shopping for school uniform every year, and stories of my first word, first walk, first day at school, the first letter I wrote, how it wasn't an A but an O.

How life doesn't come a full circle because the list of firsts ends, at the first time getting touched on a bright sunny afternoon after school with my body going numb, the first pair of familiar eyes staring down at my breasts that hadn't even grown, the first time my heart breaks over a crispy smiled- gorgeous boy, the first time of feeling the world isn't a land of mystery solving which leads to another until you find the palace meant for you because you are born a princess, first time realizing you can't be a princess because your parents are not king and queen and all the dynasties have been turned to dust and that's fine because you don't need a palace, when you grow up home is all that you crave and the first time realizing Santa can not fulfill your wish of not being so scared, and lonely because he isn't fucking real.

Life has always been your way to you, You were trying so hard to stitch a perfect story for yourself, for us, that you made a new family in denial. You abandoned us trying to look after us. Maybe you were trying to escape this hideous hole that has been growing ever since you were a kid which has attached its part to me in your womb. You don't get it, we are born with a black hole on our chins that inertly spreads and that's okay, No amount of love-filled carcass of words can change its identity,and I would do fine without cotton candies disappearing as soon as it touches the inside of my mouth, I won't ask where they went anymore like I didn't ask where those people went from my past. Watching people disappear is the only magic we get in this lifetime.

You say girls like me are made of fire and grit, meant to conquer and sail through storms but Ma, girls like me fall apart at the first sound of hail and search for love like it's the most important document they lost beforean important day, You tell me I have steel for feet that can walk through an apocalypse after making sure I walked on silk carpet as a toddler, and I look down and find neither. "Girls like me don't waste time on boys, girls like me know how to talk, girls like come straight from god's favorite garden," But Ma, girls like me have cried an ocean over soft-spoken boys, girls like me have killed their voice, girls like me are born of war and blood.Girls like me don't aim for stars but starve for a hand to guide us out from the hollow consuming darkness of our minds, Girls like me don't sing because our throat is filled with this liquid that spits sorrow.

You hear birds chirping at dawn and know it's fajr how could you never hear my muffled squeak or you tried to hide it in with a pair of extra dangling earrings, the stones in it shining as bright as the venus in a clear sky? You congratulate my heartache and call my cowardice brave, that sometimes it's brave to be a coward if it saves me and I don't know what you mean by it but more than that you don't know what you mean. When I asked, you you said you don't understand heartbreaks but I have seen your heart ache for seven thousand two hundred fifty-six days of my existence. Your happy stories are saddest to me because in them I find a tiring effort of breathing a delusion. I carried my most painful collection of peoms like if it slips and finds you, you would be devastated but when i let it out you heard like a distracted twelve year old because you didn't want to lift it's weight. You want the pain to be over without the suffering.

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poptod · 3 years

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Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,” he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

#elliot alderson x reader #Elliot Alderson #mr robot #rami malek

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ididntwanttohavetohauntyou · 4 years

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so i may have rambled... and poked every hole (that i could think of off the top of my head) in the “straight” narrative...

this is basically the same kind of bullet point thing that antis did for us, and if someone could actually like send this to an anti, i really do wanna get answers to these questions...

just another thing, this isn’t meant to be rude, or insulting, but i figured it was our turn to ask questions.

and again, if i didn’t mention something here it’s because i didn’t think about it as i was writing this... but if it gets pointed out i will happily add it (as long as it has facts or is so inherently gay that it doesn’t even exist within a million light years of straightness)

i tried to leave folklore off as much as possible, because i honestly think taylor’s not done with that but i couldn’t resist putting a few folklore questions. just the obvious ones i promise

okay anyway...

the "dark jeans and your nikes" line from delicate? joe was only seen with dark jeans and nikes like 3 days before delicate came out. what’s up with that? like correct me if i’m wrong, but that was the first time, right?

the invisible string could've been that joe happened to audition for tay's fav movie but it was something about a yogurt shop shirt that was teal, but then we figured out it wasn't actually teal because joe worked there before they changed the shirt color from black to teal. so, like why not use the love actually thing? especially if she knows we become detectives when she puts out music and we would figure out that the color was wrong? the only explanation i have is that she wanted us to see that

and then there's the fact that london boy is satire... i mean she writes about beautiful skies the entire lover album but writes about stormy london weather in london boy and how much she loves it. why would she write about gorgeous skies for the rest of the album, but about gray ones in london?

speaking of beautiful skies, she literally said the bi flag in order... "gave me the blues and then purple-pink skies". (no joke, even tho i'm bi, i remember the order of the colors on the flag with that lyric, but that’s just me).

then there's cruel summer. which garden gate did she sneak in through? which summer? the one she spent galivanting around with tom? and no offense to taylor, but if she had been with all the men she had supposedly been with, why would a man's body be new?

and why is he gold? or her "angel bf"? i mean, karlie was an angel for years and i’m quite sure she returned in 2017 for that year only... and then there’s that one outfit where she had angel wings that are gold...

and why does taylor sing "our country guess it was a lawless land" if he's from england?

why does she always sing about nyc? why is she (nyc) her lover's fav town if he said in an interview he preferred london? and why is her lover the west village?

why did she parade around in pride flags to the point where lgbtq+ celebs would usually say "you support us and that's great but that's queerbaiting" and yet get no backlash from them?

then there's the references to religion, falling from grace, all of that. nobody says that a woman and a man can't be together. literally nobody. so why the heck does she need to fall from grace for her lover? i know from personal experience that it’s hard to grow up surrounded by people telling you that being gay is a sin and it gives you a certain sense of hopelessness. just the other day my dad referred to straight couples as “more normal” and called trans people “those people”. that’s what it’s like living in the south

why did she confirm delicate was for the gays by wearing a rainbow dress on tour, singing it with “lesbian jesus”, and later liking a tumblr post about it?

speaking of “lesbian jesus”, why'd she perform curious of all songs in that surprise performance with hayley? i mean... look at the lyrics and tell me performing that, along with the “SOUNDS FAKE” caption isn’t jealousy

why do they (taylor and joe) only show up together right before or after one of them releases something?

how did they even meet? i know there’s the whole “your buzzcut my hair bleached” line, but if we have pictures and videos of taylor dancing with tom and karlie at the met, why aren’t there any of her with joe? and let’s say they met by the bathroom or something away from the cameras... how did she have time to apparently become best friends with him (to then be able to say she didn’t want him like one in several songs) while being with tom, juggling kimye and the horrible rumors?

speaking of tom again, why did she even get with tom? it’s not like she was thinking “i’m so taken by this guy that when i met him it was love at first sight, but i’m gonna travel the world with this other guy for three months instead of being with the guy i’m in love with”.

who is so it goes... about? like, calvin? i mean, the guy who she collaborated with said he had just become a father, which implies it was his first kid. as in march 2015, possibly prior to her dating calvin.

what is DWOHT about? (and please not that crap about it being about sex, i don’t think i could take people reducing such a beautiful song to a song about sex.)

what is the ...ready for it? mv about? the way i interpreted it was her breaking her glass closet with her voice (her lyrics that are, in my opinion, blatantly gay)

what are all of those pronoun switches live about? she definitely knows the words to her own songs right? i mean she knew the words and choreo to a different artist’s song (hello curious and hayley!)... or a few different artists’ songs I guess...

why would she make fun of a british guy’s accent if it most definitely was not her first british guy? just a thought

i’ve been refraining from putting folklore stuff on here, but are the characters in the teenage love triangle based on blake and ryan’s daughter or not? and if they are, why aren’t they all girls? or at least james?

if the gp started putting james as a “they” in articles, why can’t you guys stop bringing up the time she said it was from a guy’s pov? and just saying, that’s the same time she contradicted herself in one breath by saying the names were those of her friends’ daughters...

and since i’ve talked about folklore a bit anyway, I might as well bring up seven. what do you guys think that song is about? because for me at least, it pretty much encapsulates being gay (not straight) as a kid, whether you knew it or not. to paraphrase some amazing tumblr bloggers, seven is that one friendship that was short and sweet, and for some reason you remember it forever. you remember days spent in the park, braiding hair, playing hide and seek etc. but if you saw that person fifteen years later, you probably wouldn’t know who they were. regardless, from time to time, you look back and think, “i was so gay and i didn’t realize. all those times I convinced myself that we were cuddling in the same bed because we were cold, I just wanted to be close to her. and when a boy would be mean to her and I would get defensive, it wasn’t because I thought she needed protection, I was just trying to impress her. i told her she was pretty after someone told her she wasn’t, but I said it because that’s what I felt, not because I wanted to make her feel better. but then we grew apart, and while I don't know who or where she is now, I'll always remember all those things we did and who we were together.”

why does taylor constantly write about kissing girls? since pretty much the start of her career, she’s been singing about kissing girls, and proposing to them etc. why?

what the heck is HYGTG about? because as far as i can tell, it’s taylor bragging about how good she is at getting girls.

and speaking of bragging, why does taylor specifically say, “what’s it like to brag about getting bitches and models”? the wording (and any fan who denies that taylor is particular about that doesn’t pay attention) implies she is getting bitches and/or models, but doesn’t know what it’s like to brag about that because she's not “the man”

why is it that you guys constantly say that folklore is, well, folklore, but it suddenly isn’t when it fits your narrative? that’s like saying cheese is only butter when you put it on pasta (sorry i'm hungry)

has taylor ever said she’s straight? because as far as I know, she never has. and how many times has she actually confirmed that she is currently dating a guy? not an ex, but a current boyfriend by name

why does she look perfectly content holding hands with her female friends in public, but she looks miserable when she’s with joe?

i understand that she’s allowed to be touchy with her female friends, but you can’t deny that some of her big sur pics with karlie were couple poses... and then there’s the time she sat on karlie’s lap... or the vogue photoshoot...

why would she write a song like IKP and then shove calvin in everyone’s faces to the point that the birthday post she made for karlie in 2015 had non-kaylors riled up too? (the one where karlie was literally in the background and we mostly saw calvin) and then those three months with tom where she flew him around the world super publicly?

do you guys really believe that 1989 isn’t about a relationship?

what is this love about? is that really not a love song?

why’d she move to nyc? and then include a line like “and you can want who you want, boys and boys and girls and girls” in WTNY? if she was really straight, why would she include something like that in her song about new york?

why describe joe as a killer, ghost, and a jailer? and after doing all that with “he” as the pronoun of choice, why switch to you in the chorus, and say all these wonderful things?

joe isn’t younger than all her exes.... (hi harry!)

was 2016 really the worst time for her publicly? or was 2011-2013? i personally think that it’s still up for discussion.

why would she write about a long term relationship on reputation after being with joe for a couple months? or even less tbh?

and if scott swift told fans that the trial pushed back the release of rep by a few months, when was it supposed to come out? and going back to so it goes... if people are going to say that it was written just a couple months before rep was released, how could that be possible if it was originally supposed to released months earlier?

third floor on the west side... karlie’s master bedroom anybody?

did you guys picture a girl in the beginning of INTHAF and then switch to a boy? because it’s kind of the classic best friends to lovers theme, but the way she described it, i definitely imagined two girls, even before i thought taylor might have liked girls.

why does she keep writing songs about marriage, but then deny all the rumors that she’s engaged to joe, and say she isn’t ready for that in miss americana?

and because i want to end on a note of unity, can we all agree calvin was an asshole?

edit:

why the heck are there so many coincidences if they aren’t together? don’t you think taylor would have kept the interactions to an absolute minimum if they really were feuding?

why is it that on at least two occasions, taylor’s lyrics have echoed one of their instagram captions, almost word for word? on the way home anyone? motown beat?

and i can’t believe i didn’t put this in there before, but where was joe’s big reputation? i mean, before he starting stunt- i mean “dating” taylor, barely anyone had heard of him. you know who’s got a big reputation and has for almost as long as taylor? karlie sunshine kloss

what the heck does the line “you try on calling me baby like trying on clothes” mean for joe? because karlie definitely has to try on a whole bunch of clothes, being a model and all. plus, there’s that stereotype that girls change clothes a million times before leaving the house, and that we try on a billion things at stores and end up getting lipstick or whatever

and just to build off the last bullet point, in the line before, taylor sings “we met a few weeks ago”. however, according to your timeline, they met at the met, and then she flew around with tom like a week later. so when would he have called her baby? while they were supposedly best friends? just saying...

thank you to the lovely @shugbayr for pointing out that yes, taylor said during 1989 promo that 1989 wasn’t as boy-centric of an album because her life had been less boy-centric. why the love songs then? I have an idea that starts with a g and ends with an l

#excuse that one super long ramble about seven #poking holes in the straight narrative #kaylor #taylor swift

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everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Song: Easy to Forget Me by Cimorelli

Pairings: Tobio Kageyama x fem! reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: When the king's queen was out of his grasp before he can realize

Warning/Genre: angst, toxic friendship, anxiety attack

Symbols: Italics=flashbacks

A/N: um- im very much hurt

Kageyama pants as he runs, pushing his limit with his eyes scanning the street ahead of him. His chest heavily coming up and down with sweat dripping down his skin. Mind empty but theres a certain feeling in his chest that was urging him to come back to a certain period in his life or a certain someone.

As he passes by a certain store, he suddenly stops. The feeling of his legs as if it they were holding him back, restraining his every move along with a voice lingering in his head like a broken record.

"She wasn't there."

Like a rock thrown to glass, his heart shatters, the sharpness of it scattering around his body making him weak to his knees as he stares at the shop that brought back memories he should've cherished. Maybe he should've gone with you when you asked him, maybe he should've took interest in your stories that had you smiling for days.

Maybe he should've chosen to remember.

"Tobio! Please don't push me away." Y/N begs, as Tobio disregards your words as he locks the door, slamming it in front of you. It was right after the match of Kitagawa, where his teammates claimed him the King, leaving him stranded.

"Please.. I'm here. I'll stay with you, I promise." Y/N says, head leaned on the door as she desperately tries to talk to the boy who've built such high walls a person like her can never reach. Kageyama can hear her pleas through the door but only one scene was repeating in his head-the moment the ball dropped, not even a soul was willing to save it for him.

"Kageyama.." she whispers sliding down with tears in her innocent eyes, scared for the condition of the boy, even more scared of what was bound to happen to their closeness.

The door creaks open slightly, and she was off her feet wiping away her tears as she turns around to see the broken boy clutching his shirt. He collapses into her arms and she gladly takes him, both sat on the ground with her hands running through his dark locks. Tears in each of their eyes, Y/N holding onto him while he questions himself. All the words that slipped through her mouth was nothing but sweet whispers and promises, reassuring him that he was no king.

Just a prince surrounded in a kingdom he didn't deserve.

"T-thank you for yesterday. You're the only one I can..count on." He says through the phone and you immediately smile at his words, surprised he believed in your promise. You let your hand rest on top of your heart, gripping on your shirt feeling that your heart was too big to fit into your body with how your emotions were overwhelming you just because of one boy. You wonder how long it'll take for you to break under him, under the kings command.

"It's nothing, Tobio. I'll be here whenever you need me."

"Kageyama! Good morning!" You say as you gladly bring him his usual choice of milk. He nods to you as a sign of thank you, and you smile at him. You walk with him silently, admiring the pleasant air between you two. It was a coincidence you two entered the same school, or was it really just your instinct and you chose it to protect the boy?

"I heard about this new store. Do you wanna come with me? I've seen photos of it everywhere!" She rambles on yet it fell on deaf ears as Kageyama was only delighted about being back on the gym, able to play his passion. When he turned to her, even if she was talking, his slightest care couldn't be given to her. He'd only nod every once in a while to make it seem like he'd understood.

If your heart knew that he didn't care, maybe then you would've realized.

We're in the same town

But you're nowhere to be found

"She hasn't been around for days. Do you think she'll make it to our game?" Hinata asks as Tanaka hands him another ball. Tanaka sighs as he looks over to the empty bench. It was funny how they were all concerned yet one boy couldn't care less. The second year looks over to Kageyama who spiked the ball perfectly, seeing him cheer at his success.

"Worry less about Y/N, she probably has her own problems. We all know that she could never miss our game, especially when Kageyama is playing." Daichi says, looking over to the younger boy. Daichi can feel how cold the atmosphere was with just a glance. He tries not to interfere with whatever happened between you two but after the match no one saw you again. Yet he sees Kageyama, perfectly back in his mindset and not an ounce of suspense as to why you weren't present.

"Plus we missed her birthday! Can't we buy some gifts for her? She doesn't really seem okay to me." Sugawara say and Nishinoya jumps at the idea agreeing completely.

"Seems like he shouldn't be invited." Tsukishima says, pointing at their other setter. Hinata sighs beside him, before shaking his head, in denial of the tension.

"Let's just go after practice!"

He walks inside the record store, seeing a variety of albums and vinyls. He lets his slim fingers run over the texture of each album, wondering which drew his attention. The atmosphere of the store was enough to leave a weight on his shoulders.

It's you, isn't it?

He eyes a poster on his left, enjoying how the colors were spotlighted by the sunlight that was peeking through the window. All the soft hues, having a dark gradient at the bottom he couldn't help but feel how familiar everything was. He carefully listens to the song that was playing, concentrating on every lyric as if he was trying to find a connection.

This is her world.

He watches how everyone in the store was occupied in conversations. Conversing about their interests, debating about different eras, even singing in different aisles. He can only feel sympathy, alone in her world he didn't bother to acknowledge. He should know by now what music you like, what album you first bought, which band poster was hung on your wall, but when he tried he could only hear murmurs and whispers.

I wish I listened.

Do you ever miss me?

You wonder as you sat in your room, knees to your chest in the far corner, listening to the song playing in your earphones. You stood up, walking to your window and opening it, greeted by the cold air. You let you hands dangle from the window while your eyes landing on the night sky creeping a smile on your face at how comforting it was.

The moon stares down on you, feeling helpless for the girl who thought numbness was the right choice. She couldn't even mask the way her world was slowly loosing color. To her, music would always paint her skies with color. All she can do now is envision the colors but in reality they were all desaturating with every passing day. There's pretty smile set on her lips yet feels like a tug of force knowing it was hard to act civil when her heart lost the battle.

"This place is so cool!" Hinata exclaims, eyes sparkling at the sight of the vivid posters and overall aesthetic and aura of the store. Nishinoya joins him on the excitement. Daichi turn to Kageyama who looked like a lost puppy, eyes wandering everywhere. Sugawara taps Daichis shoulder quite cutely holding up a vinyl in his hands.

"This looks like something she'd like!" He says with a smile and Nishinoya joins the conversation, holding out his own album waving it in the air claiming it was more her type. Asahi laughs at the two while he continues to view the albums that were in front of him.

Kageyama glances at his seniors along with the second years. He sees the genuine care they have for her but why is that he feels empty? Like he was numb to any feeling. He did miss her birthday, not even bothering to greet her, focusing on doing better for the next matches.

Hinata notices the dismay from the boy but his lips form a thin line, knowing exactly why Kageyamas clueless. He wonders about the feeling of neglecting a person that's been by your side for years. Kageyama seemed like he was a pro for such things. He always took notice of how Y/N would look whenever he's decline her offers, the way she walks to class disheartened but when she sees the setter, she instantly lights up at the sight.

Seeing her cry that day was enough for him to keep a distance.

How can he even comfort her? The moment she turned her back to Kageyama, she had a hopeless smile on her lips, tears continuously rolling down her puffy cheeks. He could see the way she collapsed that way. How the queen finally let go of her duties from the king.

Kageyama laid on his bed with earphones in, hands to his chest focused on the melodies. It was ironic how he wanted to badly catch up on what he's lost. He was badly trying to find the trail back to you but he was unfortunate. It seemed like he was the one that changed everyone's destination.

The moment she stepped in the gym, so bewildered at the different personalities they had. Hinata was the first one to approach her, asking her questions about their "friendship." The following months went by and Hinata found comfort in her and so did the rest of the team, favoring her for her endless support, always hearing her cheers at each game. After every match, she'd always encourage the others, being the brightest sun to cast upon the team who was discouraged.

Yet he found this unnecessary?

He bites his lip at his old thought. He hated himself for thinking how useless of a habit that was for you. He believed that Daichi was enough to lift up the spirits of his teammates so the team really didn't need you. It's opposite for the others though. They truly appreciated each of your compliments, each pat on the shoulder or head. Even if you wanted to do the same for him, he'd always walk away before you could even reach him. Hinata and Yamaguchi would always try to make you forget how harsh the boy was.

He lets his eyes close for a while. For a second, he was at peace but then words started resurfacing.

"How could you just walk away?"

He tries to ignore the tone of her voice, trying to drown it out by increasing the volume, but his heart was panicking at the memory. Even if he tightly shuts his eyes, all he can imagine was the sight of the last time he saw her. He wanted to sit up, to avoid the anxiousness that was crawling under his skin, but his back remained on the bed, struggling to escape the encounter.

"Is it that easy to forget me?"

Y/N.

(TW! Anxiety attack. Do not proceed if this makes you uncomfortable)

He calls out to her like a whisper, clutching his pillow as he stares wide eyed at the ceiling. He feels the room swirl around him, the walls caving on him as every insult and memory came to him. He sits up and desperately tries to walk but he collapses on the floor, hands quickly reaching the hem of his shirt bringing it over his shoulders. Panting incredibly with his sweat covering his forehead as he tried to calm himself down but each second he was reminded of a moment in his life he could never change.

"Hey..Kageyama it's okay." Y/N tries to reach for his shoulder but he harshly grabs a hold of her hand, gripping it tightly in his as he stares her down with his dark eyes, locking on her terrified ones.

"We fucking lost! To Aoba! To Oikawa! How can you act like this when we lost?!" Kageyama shouts at her and she winces at the volume but she lets her other hand rest on top of his, trying to make sure her eye contact reminded him that everything was going to be okay.

"Tobio- Karasuno will come back and win again.. You have to trust that everything isn't set in stone. Failure-"

"FAILURE? I don't have any fucking time for more failures Y/N! You simply don't know what that feels cause all you've been doing is tagging along and being useless." He spat and you felt your smile crumble at his words. He removes your hands from his as he frustratedly runs his hands to his hair, feeling as if pins went through his hands, blaming it for their loss.

"Kageyama..you don't m-mean that. Stop. I know you're angry-"

"I'm disappointed Y/N for fucks sake! I could've done better! We could've won if I didn't slip up. Stop acting like you can fucking solve everything and leave!" She takes a step forward to him as he extends out a hand, blocking her from moving any further. The gesture completely draining the life out of her, her heart growing more and more in her chest, the admiration for the boy trying to erase his negativity.

"K-kageyama-"

"Fuck Y/N! Can't I have a day without you talking to me? Or even being around me? I don't need you. The team doesn't need you. No one else does.. so please just leave already."

He stares at her for a while before rushing off, annoyance and pride feeding his heart and mind. She sees him getting more and more distant as she lets her last smile fall on her lips. All the love and joy was erased from her heart, feeling how shallow and dark the atmosphere was inside it. It began to feel like every heartbeat was slowing down as her tears painted her a trail as she walked. The tears continuously flooded her cheeks as every function of her body was weakening with every action.

She feels the tension that there was in the bus, while she was stuck in the corner, silent.

Silent but the Kings poison consumed her.

Happy birthday to me then. She thinks bitterly.

She looks at the scenery beside her, appealing dull. She allows her heart to cry at the sharp pieces that went through it, as if it was like a balloon being popped or like the light from a fire was blown out.

There was a certain part of her that died that day. She wonders if it was her entirely, or just her ability to feel anything apart from the harsh reality. It was the mere feeling of hearing him say the exact opposite of the words you were badly used to. As the person who he counted on even back at Kitagawa, you should've believed it. But every word he threw were all words that should've never been brought to light. You were back to zero to say the least, back at the darkest corner of your mind. Touching in with your negative emotions drowning you with every replay of of his words.

Then she glances at him.

She lets her eyes linger on him for the last time before she sighs, hands forming a ball, nails digging through her skin.

I don't know you anymore.

Kageyama opens his eyes slowly, hands reaching for his phone as he dials a forgotten number. He was panting furiously, desperate to hear the sound of your voice he was late to miss. He dreaded the silence the surrounded him, he wished the silence would be killed by your voice, assuring him that all was forgiven and you were ready to come back to him so he can apologize for everything he's done.

On the other end of the line, you sighed sadly. You the see way your phone lit up the dark room, seeing a name you've yet to see in months. You carefully place the phone in your hands, trying to find the feeling in your chest when he was around. The feeling of excitement to see or hear him has vanished yet you wished that you had the ability to feel for him again.

Love has faded, no evidence, not even a trace.

So you put the phone down, done waiting to be found.

Kageyama hears the way the sound of the phone stopped, seeing his wallpaper flash in front of him. He lets the tears fall from his eyes as he calls out to you one more time, even if you broke your promise, still holding on to it but there wasn't a chance for him anymore.

And the queen left the kingdom, leaving the king to rule by himself.

#kegayama tobio #haikyu x reader #haikyuu sugawara #hinata shouyou #hinata x reader #nishinoya x reader #sugawara x y/n #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima hcs #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!!#kageyama x reader #yamaguchi fluff #haikyuu yamaguchi #haikyuu asahi #tobio x you #daichi sawamura x reader

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lost-in-the-80s · 4 years

Text

Winter Memories

Pairing: Axl Rose x reader

Words: 3,808k

Summary: The pressure of making a new album is finally hitting Axl. To get rid of some stress he decides to take a trip to Norway, however, he did not expect to meet a mysterious woman there. (smut + angst)

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you like it! Tell me if you want a part 2! There will be a few lines in norwegian, but the translations will be below in italics ;)

Warnings: Mature content, swearing and unprotected sex. (Use a condom, guys!)

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @normatural add yourself to my tag list :)

Part 2

It had been a busy week and Axl's frustration was reaching extremely high levels.

Making an album was not an easy task, it required a lot of work and dedication, especially when the bandleader was Axl. Known for being a perfectionist, Axl expected nothing less than perfection for the band's third and fourth albums.

He understood why his bandmates were so tired, Axl had made them redo each song countless times and that was exhausting, but it was even more exhausting for him, who stayed in the studio for hours after his friends left, doing the vocals as many times as he could.

Axl realized he needed to relax when he ended up taking all his anger out on the supermarket attendant last week. She hadn't done anything much, just asked for an autograph, but the stress accumulated in his body made him be rude to her.

That night he decided that he needed time away from it all, that he needed time just for him so he could calm down.

It was December and the clear California sun was starting to get paler, accompanied by a cold breeze coming in the late afternoon. But he knew it wouldn't get much colder, after all, Los Angeles was one of the hottest cities in the United States.

Furthermore, he would not find peace in such a busy place. The chances of someone showing up at his door out of nowhere or calling insisting for him to go out were too high to risk.

Following the advice of a friend, Axl decided to go north, to Norway, more precisely. He wanted to see the snow again, wanted to feel the cold winter wind and visit a place he had never been to before.

After notifying the band and advancing some things in the studio, he left. Catching a plane on Friday afternoon, lusting to reach a small isolated town in the center of the country in the morning.

His assistant had managed to rent a room in a small, comfortable cottage near a mountain, where he could learn to ski.

After spending countless hours on the flight and two more hours driving a rental car to the place, he finally arrived.

The view was incredible, the contrast of the snow on the ground and the blue of the sky baffled him.

Entering the reception of the cottage, Axl was greeted by an old lady, who took him to his room while telling him about how the cottage had been built by her grandparents and that the house used to creak with the wind at night.

His room was very spacious, the walls and floor were the same types of wood, in the center of the room, there was a double bed with white sheets and a thick red plaid blanket. In front of the bed was a large fireplace, already lit by someone from the cottage.

The bathroom was on the left, next to the entrance door, it was small, but it had a large bathtub and the lady had assured him that the water was very hot. To his right was a large glass window that overlooked a vast field of snow-covered pines and a large mountain in the background. There was a small sofa under the window, accompanied by a small wooden table, the same color as the bedside tables.

It was different from what he was used to, but he liked the location.

After leaving his bags in the room and putting on another blouse, Axl decided to go down to the cottage's dining room for breakfast. Taking a large cup of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon, he sat down at a table in the far corner, next to a window.

He hugged the cup with his hands, hoping the act would warm them up. He heard footsteps on the stairs and it was at that moment that he saw her coming. She was beautiful as an angel, her eyes looked like a cat's, which told him she was unpredictable, but her smile was sweet when she greeted the owner of the place.

"God morgen, Anna!" She waved to the lady.

"Good morning, Anna!"

“God morgen, Y/N! Du våknet endelig!”

“Good morning, Y/N! At least you woke up”

She laughed and Axl felt like he was in a trance. He didn't understand what she said, so he assumed she was a local.

Sensing his gaze, she finally looked in his direction. Her expression changed, the sweet smile disappeared and her eyes began to transmit lust. She looked him up and down before picking up her breakfast and sitting at a table.

Axl ate, but every little bit he found himself looking in her direction, only to realize that she was already looking at him, like a predator looking at the victim.

After eating, Axl got in his car and drove towards the mountain ski station, putting on the right clothes and getting a ski board, an instructor taught Axl the basic moves and instructed him to stay in a specific area, where the beginners stayed.

After a good 30 minutes, Axl realized that perhaps skiing was not his thing. He fell numerous times and was unable to move properly on the board. Irritation started to form inside his body and when he was about to damn everything to hell and go back to the cottage, he heard her voice near him.

"Flytt deg!"

"Get out of the way!"

He looked back just in time to see that she was approaching him at high speed, trying to get out of her way as fast as possible, Axl tripped on his own feet and ended up landing face first in the snow.

He heard her laugh again and when he noticed a small hand covered by a glove was being extended towards him. Axl looked up and saw her face, she was still laughing.

Accepting the offer, she helped Axl to get up again.

"Unnskyldning." She gave a small smile, trying to contain her laughter.

"I’m sorry."

"What?" Axl frowned, trying to understand what she had said.

"Ah, sorry, I thought you were from here!" Her accent made Axl smile, he found the sound cute.

"Well, I'm not."

"I am, Y/N, by the way." She offered her hand for him to greet her.

"Axl!" He shook her hand.

"I liked your name! Is this your first time here? ”

"It actually is." He scratched the back of his neck.

“I live in Oslo, but I come here every year at this time. It's nice to relax. ”

"I hope so!" He gave her a small smile.

"Having trouble skiing?"

"To tell the truth, yes."

"Do you want me to teach you?"

"Would you do it?"

"Sure, what kind of Norwegian would I be if I saw someone here without enjoying the best part of winter?"

He smiled at her.

For the next few hours, Y/N taught Axl as best as she could, always encouraging him not to give up whenever he fell or fell out of balance.

When Axl finally came down a small part of the mountain without difficulty, she clapped her hands and shouted at him, celebrating his victory.

"Now nobody else can say that you are a tourist." She laughed, making him smile.

We should go back to the cottage, it's almost three o'clock, it's going to get dark soon.

"Is it getting dark so early in here?"

"It's December baby, from now on the days will get shorter and shorter."

The nickname made him smile again.

"Are you driving?" He asked when they were returning the clothes and equipment to the company.

“No, I came by bus. I don't trust the roads much at this time of year. ”

"Do you want a ride to the cottage?"

"It would be great!"

In the first few minutes, an awkward silence came over the car, to break the mood, Y/N turned on the car's radio and turned up the volume when A-Ha started playing.

Axl glanced at her. "Do you listen to this shit?"

"They are Norwegian, we are crazy about them." She laughed, thinking about it. It was funny with her people, they had a habit of liking anything that was national.

He shook his head, but let a small smile take over his lips.

"I like your hair!" She said, staring at him.

"Thank you, I think!"

“No, seriously, I really like it. I think the color is beautiful. ”

"Thank you very much then."

He looked at her and his eyes met hers. A shiver went down his spine and he felt as if he couldn’t breathe for a moment, so he focused on the road again.

After a few minutes, he decided to start a conversation.

"What do you normally do here when you're not skiing?"

“I drink hot chocolate, read and go for a short walk in the city. They have some cool stores here. ” She shrugged.

He nodded in response.

After arriving at the cottage, the two agreed to go down to have hot chocolate together in half an hour.

Axl took a hot shower, letting his muscles relax with the warmth of the water. He contemplated shaving but changed his mind after thinking it over. His beard was slightly long, red hair adorned his face.

Down the stairs he saw her sitting on a couch, wearing a pair of black leggings and a red sweatshirt, her hair was tied up in a bun and she was using a pair of slipper boots.

"You Americans are always late." She noted when Axl sat down next to her.

"Sorry."

She gestured with her hand, as if to inform him that it was okay. "I already ordered the hot chocolate, Anna was supposed to bring it after you arrived."

He nodded in agreement.

"So, what do you work with?" He wanted to know more about her.

"I'm a lawyer. I deal with divorces. What about you?"

"I work with music."

"What kind of music?"

"Rock."

"Nice!"

Anna arrived with two large mugs, interrupting the conversation.

"Takk, Anna!" Y/N smiled sweetly at the woman.

"Thank you, Anna!"

"Thanks." He picked up his mug carefully, as he knew it would be hot.

"No problem." She smiled back at them both.

The two stayed there for over an hour talking, finding out more about each other.

Axl couldn't say why, but he felt comfortable around her, almost as if they knew each other for decades. He could tell that she felt the same way because after a few minutes she put her legs on his lap.

"You were right, her hot chocolate is delicious." Axl said after taking the second mug that night.

"I told you!" She smiled proudly.

Getting closer to him, she whispered in his ear. "I'm going up to my room now, if you want to stop by later, I'm in room 22." She rested her hand on his chest.

He looked into her eyes, they were both close enough to kiss, but there was a family with two children in the room, so he decided not to.

Nodding his head at her, Axl kept his gaze fixed on her back when she got up and went upstairs, leaving him alone.

The simple image of what he could do with her later made his member throb with anticipation. And he decided that after it was late he would knock on her door.

Returning to his room he realized that her room was two doors from his, on the same side of the corridor.

He tried to entertain himself at night, he went down to dinner and then tried to read a book he had brought, but he couldn't focus on reading, his imagination was running wild and all he could think about was her.

Glancing at the clock in his room, he saw that it was just after nine.

"Fuck it!" Getting up and locking his door as he left the room, he walked in quick steps to room 22, knocking three times on the door and waiting for her to open.

When she opened it, Axl's member pulsed again. She was wearing a black wool sweater three times the size of her, covering up to half of her thighs. Her hair was still tied up in a bun.

Before she could say anything, his lips crashed against hers, hugging her waist with one of his arms and pushing her slightly into the room, closing the door with his free hand.

She responded on the spot, her arms circling his neck while her tongue asked for permission to invade his mouth.

Allowing the intrusion, their tongues began to move as if in an aggressive ballet, fighting for dominance. She moved one of her hands to Axl's hair, lightly pulling the strands at the top of his neck, causing a low growl to leave his throat.

Her hands started to remove Axl's jacket, who broke the kiss for a second to remove his white shirt as well.

She admired the muscles in his abdomen, biting her bottom lip with desire.

Axl pulled her close by her hips, letting his hands find her butt cheeks and squeeze them tightly, making a small moan leave her lips.

He brought his right hand to her hair, removing the elastic that held her strands and letting her hair cover part of her face. Axl guided her to the bed, stopping when her legs hit the furniture slightly, creating a distance between them and removing her sweater, revealing the black lace lingerie she wore.

His member started to stiffen. Letting her fall on the soft mattress, Axl stayed on top of her, dropping his kisses to her neck, where he left light bites that would surely leave marks. She sighed like an angel when Axl lowered his kisses further, making a trail between her neck and the bar of her panties, taking off her bra in the process.

He propped her two legs up on the bed, kissing her right thigh, higher and higher, letting his beard run lightly over her skin and watching her sigh with the contact.

His cold fingers touched her skin, slowly pulling her panties down, making her shiver at the touch.

She leaned on her forearms, watching Axl closely.

Axl approached the center of her, licking her folds before spreading her legs further, granting him more access. His tongue started to make circular movements on her clit, at first they were slow and calm, but after a while, they started to get stronger and more accurate.

She grabbed the covers with her fingers, letting her head fall on the bed again allowing small moans to leave her lips.

"Axl" She whispered his name.

Seeing this as an incentive, Axl slowly penetrated one of his fingers into her, while his other hand came up and squeezed her breast firmly, causing a loud moan to come out of her throat.

After a few minutes, Axl inserted a second finger, curving them and reaching a different point inside her that made her moan louder.

"Right there!" She said between moans.

Axl started to feel her walls tightening, giving a sign that she was close, he applied more pressure to her clit, making faster movements with his tongue.

At that point she was already a mess, her left hand tightly gripped the cover under her, while her right hand was in Axl's hair, pulling his strands lightly and whimpering with pleasure.

He hit her point a few more times and was static when he saw her legs shaking slightly while a loud moan accompanied by a strong tug on his hair told him that she had reached her climax.

After receiving all the juices she had given him, Axl lifted his kisses, stopping at the level of her right breast, where he sucked with ease, lightly biting her nipple while watching the long, heavy breathes come out of her lips.

Going up a little further, he captured her lips in a hot, ravenous kiss. Her hands began to entertain with the buttons on his pants, telling him that she wanted him to get rid of them.

Breaking the kiss Axl removed his pants and underwear at the same time, freeing his already hard and completely erect member.

She licked her lips with desire, watching him as he stroked himself while walking towards her.

"Are you going to be a good girl and take everything?"

She nodded and he pushed her by the shoulders on the bed before pulling her closer to him by her legs.

He climbed on the bed and used his left hand to support himself, while his right hand guided his member to collect some of her juices. Axl moved his cock slowly over her clit, making her moan softly.

Slowly, he began to penetrate her, pausing for a moment when it came to an end, waiting for her to adjust to his size. The pressure created by his dick against her tight walls made them both moan in unison before they shared a lush kiss.

Moving slowly, he started to get in and out of her. His eyes locked with hers as the room seemed to get ten degrees warmer. Her hands tightened on his biceps tightly as he leaned down to kiss her again.

“Fuck, you look so hot taking my cock inside of you.” He groaned.

After a few minutes, Axl's thrusts became stronger and faster and Y/N's moans got louder and louder. She murmured things in her native language that Axl was unable to understand as her nails scratched the skin on his back, making him grunt and bite her neck hard.

"I think…. I’m going to…." She managed to utter between moans.

"I know baby, cum for me!" Axl ordered in her ear, making her even more excited than before.

She let out a loud moan, before shouting his name, reaching her climax. Her eyes rolled and her mouth was open, her mind was blank and an orgasm twice as strong as the first took over her body.

The image was a work of art in Axl's eyes. When she said his name again, this time lower, almost like a plea, he could no longer contain himself, reaching his own climax and pouring his liquids into her while letting out a loud grunt.

He collapsed on top of her and she hugged his waist with her legs while removing some strands of his hair from his face.

The two let the last moans leave their bodies, low and disconnected, due to sensitivity.

Axl stood up and slowly withdrew his member from inside her, watching their mixed liquids leave her body. His member shook with pleasure, but he could tell that she was too tired for another round.

After cleaning her, the two fell asleep in bed, Axl wrapped Y/N in his arms and admired her in the light of the fireplace when she slept. He didn't want to leave tomorrow, he wanted to have more time with her.

----

The next morning Axl woke up and the bed was empty. Sitting up quickly, he realized that she was sitting by the window, smoking a cigarette.

"I thought you were gone." He said as he approached, wearing nothing but his underwear.

She was wearing the same sweater as last night.

"Your smell is on my sweater." She said casually.

"Good to know!" He leaned down to kiss her lips again.

She didn't want to kiss him, she knew she was already too involved. He was from another country and the two would probably never see each other again. But there was something about him that made it impossible for her to resist.

One of her hands touched his face lightly, caressing him.

"Last night was incredible!" He sat across from her, lighting a cigarette for himself.

She nodded slowly while looking through the window.

"What's it? Did I do something?"

"No, it's just ... I'm leaving today." She didn't look at him.

"Yeah, me too!"

She looked at him and felt her eyes well up with tears, but she was not going to allow herself to cry. She had just met him, it was ridiculous to feel that way.

"Do you think we could exchange our numbers?"

“I don't think it's a good idea! You live on the other side of the world, it’s not good to feed that kind of thing. ”

He felt a tightening in his heart, but he understood what she meant.

"Yeah, you must be right."

He looked at the bedroom’s watch and realized it was close to ten. The sun was beginning to rise over the horizon, its timid rays illuminating the room.

"I have to get to Bergen by one."

"You should go then, or you'll be late!"

"Yeah, I should."

They looked at each other for almost a minute. Their looks saying what their mouths lacked courage.

Axl leaned over and kissed her one last time, his hands pulling her closer until she was on his lap, while her hands played with his hair.

They tried to keep the kiss as long as they could, knowing that when they separated, Axl would have to leave. But the oxygen came to an end and they had to separate.

Both stood looking at each other for several seconds, trying to record every detail of the other's face in their memories.

She got up and allowed him to do the same.

Axl put on his clothes and started walking towards the door, stopping before opening it. "Am I going to see you before I leave?"

"I think not."

He nodded and left, heading for his room.

She sighed, pulling the sweater close to her nose and taking in his scent.

----

Later that morning, Y/N saw Axl leaving the cottage and storing his suitcase in a black car.

A sense of sadness took over the body, but she couldn't say why. It was impossible for her to love him, wasn't it? After all, they had only known each other for a day.

Axl turned towards her window and saw her sitting in the same place as before. He waved at her and waited for her to return the gesture before he got in the car and left.

When he left the place he couldn't help feeling that he had left something very important behind. He knew what it was. It was her. But she was right, it would be fruitless to feed something like that.

Watching the car leave, Y/N touched the window and waited until the car was out of sight.

A single tear fell from her eyes. "Hvis det er ham, vil skjebnen få oss til å møtes igjen."

"If it's him, fate will make us meet again."

#axl rose #axl rose fanfic #axl rose smut #axl rose fic #axl rose x reader #axl rose imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #guns n roses fic #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses x reader #gnr #classic rock imagine #harley writes

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rascheln · 4 years

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Steve hates Hawkins with a passion so strong he’s sometimes surprised people can’t read it from every silent line of his body. He’s probably just gotten really good at hiding it behind a goofy smile and wide-eyed, incomprehending stares. Nothing to see here, just an airhead. And to be fair, he didn’t always hate the place. Recent years have just continued to suck more and more of whatever childhood nostalgia it still held for him right out of it. When he drives through the town center, all it reminds him of is spray-painting walls calling Nancy a slut. Getting beat up by Jonathan. His falling out with Tommy and Carol. How much of a tool he used to be, back when he was popular.

When he looks at the forest behind his house, all he can think of is finding monsters. In the Byers’ old house. In the storm shelter by Dustin’s house. Lurking in the forest, waiting for the smell of blood. Waiting for Will, preying on Barb. Feels the phantom grip of a nail-studded bat in his palms, trying to protect a bunch of kids in the scrapyard.

He can’t drive by the local farmer’s fields anymore without thinking of the tunnels that still stretch underneath for miles. Even in his car, he can still smell the musty, rotten smell of the Upside Down when he dwells too long on his memories.

And then there’s the corpse of the mall. He refuses to drive by it, takes the long way around even if it adds fifteen more minutes to his drive. Doesn’t touch that particular section of his memories at all.

On the better days, Steve doesn’t hate Hawkins as much as he’s come to in recent years, though. 'Better’ is when he isn’t by himself- When he can share his shift with Robin and just feel like a relatively normal person. When he picks up Dustin and Max to drive them around town, to their nerd meeting, to the arcade. They’ll grow out of it soon, are bound to get their drivers license and their own cars. And he’ll be a bit more useless, once again. But he also picks up Billy. For his doctor’s appointments. For a run to the grocery store, because he’s moved into this crappy, government-paid apartment at the edge of town with no car.

They drive around a lot- before Steve’s shifts at Family Video, after his shifts. There’s nowhere to go in Hawkins, never really was. It's not too bad, though, when you have company. It might even be bearable, when you can reach out and know the person in front of you has reached to you in return. They go to the diner at the edge of town at 2am and link their ankles under the table. Share a serving of fries and drink too much coffee. Billy complains about the jukebox in the corner only playing country songs. Steve tells him that he doesn’t even notice. They smile, tentatively. Hold hands under the table. He gets Billy the new Metallica album on tape- would have gotten him the vinyl instead, if he wasn’t painfully aware that Billy wouldn’t accept it. Billy reads the title out loud.“Master of Puppets.”

Starts laughing. Starts tearing up a little. Allows Steve to hug him. Allows himself to hug back.

When he takes Billy to the drive-in theater almost a year after Starcourt, they very carefully link their fingers together, hidden in the darkness of Steve’s car. Billy’s is still sickly pale, he needs to lie down a lot and can’t really drink or eat much. But he can get in Steve’s car. Every day.

They drive to Steve’s favorite lake, almost an hour away from Hawkins in the middle of July. It’s stupidly humid, but the weather report promised clear skies and so they spend the entire day either in the water or lying down at the shore. Close, close enough that when they both turn their heads, the tips of their noses touch. Their hands meet. Their lips. It’s like the summer sun ignites Billy. Right in front of Steve’s eyes, he grows stronger, more assured, more lively with every day. Not quite the same person as he was before. They’e both lost a lot of themselves to Hawkins. They play Black Sabbath and Whitesnake, loud enough to make the walls rattle and wear out the tape on all of Billy’s Metallica albums until Steve buys him new ones.

The first time they get drunk, after Billy’s doctors have told him he’s mostly fine to drink, they barely make it through a sixpack before Billy drapes himself all over Steve. Presses him into the couch of Steve’s living room, with the widest grin on his face. Peppers his cheeks and neck with kisses. Mumbles a wondering “You have so many moles,” into Steve’s throat, before he drops off to sleep on his chest. It makes something warm, yet almost painfully tender bloom in his throat. Makes him feel lucky and grateful.

Those are the good days. The ones where Hawkins is nothing but a backdrop, its shittiness offset by its growing insignificance. It gives Steve the courage to take Billy’s hands in his, on a sunny autumn day when the leaves are bright yellow and dark red against a blue sky. They’re up at the quarry, to celebrate another milestone in Billy’s recovery: He’s no longer confined to reporting back to the lab. And it makes something well up in Steve that has been a warm trickle for a while, overflowing now that they’re here. There’s hope. For both of them. Before he can open his mouth, though, Billy beats him to it. “We’re leaving, aren’t we?” Like it’s already decided. Like he was simply waiting for Steve to catch up.

They’ve been ready for a long time, to leave Hawkins behind.

#harringrove #ficlet #harringrove fic #feels more and more like i'm workshopping my fic ideas on here #just another 'billy lives and steve is Soft for the boi' scenario #another 'i hate this place but i love you' scenario #another 'we're in this together and i'm not leaving without you' scenario #harringrove txt

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folklorianwitch · 3 years

Text

Folklore Analysis

The 1 really was an great album opener for Folklore.

Like the first line ( I am doing good I am on some new shit) gives us information on Taylor and Folklore. How Folklore is new and she is happy.

It also starts the process of transition from pop to indie/folk. The song is something in between. And it prepares the listener for the rest of the album.

It is such a nostalgic song. There is not a story going on the song but more of a feeling. It is more like an intro for the whole album. The 1 sets the tone.

Folklore is full of doomed relationship that just didn't work out: Exile, my tears ricochet, august, illicit affairs, this is me trying.

Ambiguous endings: Cardigan, Betty, Peace

Stories from the past: TLGAD, Seven

Invisible String is the complete opposite of The 1. The song implies soulmates that are tied to each other. While the 1 was a lost shot. It is meaningful Invisible strings is about Taylor's present relationship.

Yes peace is also about that. But peace is very connected to the Cornelia Street on Lover ( The Archer too) . Taylor fears this relationship will end like many other. She says she will never love again if this happens in Cornelia Street. On archer she asks (Who could stay? You could stay). And in Peace she asks ( Would it be enough If I could never give you peace?). The songs are mingled with drops of optimism. Maybe things will turn out alright.

Or maybe this is another The 1 situation.

Peace is on the line between The 1 and Invisible String. Taylor doesn't quite know which way it will go herself. And I think she desperately wants it to be the later.

On the topic of mirrorball, while the circus was called of and disco was burned down she is still on that tightrope.

The mirrorball might not be talking about a romantic relationship but these lines depict a situation of where everyone has moved on but she is still in the same mental place. This is a very familiar feeling on the album.

The 1 also has a hero that is stuck in the past and is trying to resist the temptation to ask what if.

It has way more straight forward lyrics than mirrorball and rest of the album while trying articulate this thought. Because once again The 1 is the intro and other songs solidify this feeling with their own stories and fancy allegories.

I won't comment on mad woman and epiphany because they are more about real word events than a reaching narrative. Feminism and Covid-19 respectively. But I have to applaude Taylor for making these songs fit the aesthetic of the album so well.

What about Hoax?

To my interpretation hoax is a deeply personal song for Taylor but also for all the characters she created. If the 1 sets the tone Hoax patches everything and gives a one final picture.

Taylor talked about how hoax didn't have one particular meaning on Long Ponds Studio sessions. And how it was a new experience for her.

Hoax has the voices of many people in the narrative.

"This has broken me down" is lyrics we all can feel in this hard times.

"You faithless love is the only hoax i believe in" is tremendously true for many of her song's heroes.

Hoax is about doomed relationships (My winless fight) , being stuck in the past (this has frozen my ground), hopelessness (Stood on the cliffside screaming, "Give me a reason") and Taylor's own personal troubles (You knew it still hurts underneath my scars

From when they pulled me apart).

"And if I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes, too" the protagonist of My Tears Ricochet says.

And one of the voices in the hoax says:

"My barren land

I am ash from your fire"

This signals a new beginning and hope for seemingly such a hopeless song.

The bridge looks back into the past and remembers all the pain and blood that has passed between the years.

"My only one

My kingdom come undone"

are interesting word choices. My only one is the anti thesis of The 1. And from what I read my kingdom come undone is connected to a bible line which is suppose to symbolize eternity.

"Don't want no other shade of blue but you

No other sadness in the world would do"

Taylor explained this line best on Long ponds with the following sentences:

{I think the part that sounds like love to me is, “Don’t want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do.” It sounds like–to me, that sounds like what love really is. Like, “Who would you be sad with? And who would you deal with when they were sad?” And, like, “Gray skies, every day, for months. Would you still stay?}

For all its hopeless theme Hoax has a optimistic message at its heart. About persistentence, patience and love that is built.

Taylor explains it more simply in Paper rings with: I am with you even if it makes me blue.

But there is still that fear of 'would you still stay' tied around it.

Hoax takes us through a forest filled with pain, hopelessness and mysterious creatures in the dark but there might just be light behind the branches at the end of the road. ( But in evermore you can feel it)

Hoax tells the story of the whole album and is deeply connected to Taylor's other works too. It is a great end to this album.

TLDR: Folklore is truly a masterpiece.

#taylor swift #folklore #folklore hoax #the 1 #folklore lyrics #folklore long pond studio sessions #making this analysis #I became even more aware of the shared themes #between lover #folklore and evermore #maybe i will make a post on that too #honestly it is so impressive how so many things tie into each other #like an invisible string i guess? 😅

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hljournal · 4 years

Photo

Today’s author is suspendrs / @suspendrs ! Don’t forget to give the fics kudos and leave a comment!

to the cloud and the cold (2k)

Or, Louis is a Summer Fairy, Harry is an Autumn Fairy, and the autumn equinox is the best day of the year.

fearless (97k)

“You’re my best friend, Louis,” Harry says, barely above a whisper. Even if he was yelling, Louis wouldn’t be able to believe his ears. “And I know it’s been a while, but you’re still the person I consider my best friend,” Harry says.

Louis blinks, and then blinks again. “I honestly cannot say the same, Harry,” he says.

Or, Harry left home without a word after high school, and a lot can change in ten years.

just a little dance (1k)

“Keep your head up, love,” he says, pulling away and grabbing Harry’s hands. “Dance with me.”

“I don’t want to dance,” Harry pouts, but he lets Louis pull him into the center of the dark kitchen, anyway.

“Just a little dance,” Louis says, tugging Harry’s hands until he’s flush against his front.

Or, a tiny drabble based on the cutest lyric from perfect now

ferricadooza! (65k)

Harry can’t even fathom the idea of surrendering; he’d fight ‘til he died, if he had to, anything to keep from surrendering.

Or, the year is 1963, homosexuality is illegal in the UK, Louis owns a gay bar, and Harry’s an underground boxing champion with an unfortunate enemy.

at last, at last (41k)

“Come with us,” Tommo says, stopping at the other end of the gymnasium, near the doors. “Don’t let them make you suffer any longer. Come with us, and be human.”

Before Harry has even finished thinking it through, he’s on his feet, gaining the attention of every single person in the gymnasium. What has he got to lose, anyway?

Or, Harry is born into a cult in a post-apocalyptic world, and Louis is the leader of the rebel group tasked with the mission of shutting them down. Together, they make a rather effective team.

the act of making noise (32k)

“Oh,” Harry frowns, waving him off. “No, I could never. I respect myself too much to sing for a living.”

It feels like a slap across the face, but Louis does his best not to stiffen, blinking once and then frowning. “What?”

“Those people are always so miserable, you know?” Harry says, hopping down off his stool and straightening his sweater. “There’s so much pressure on them, and they have to work so hard to keep up appearances, I can’t even imagine how difficult that is. I can’t even stand to listen to pop music today, let alone watch TV or read the magazines. It makes me so sad, thinking that those people, you know, the ones who actually went into it with heart, they only ever just wanted to make music and instead they got turned into things on leashes being paraded around to make money for other people,” he says. “Anyway, you can have the stool.”

Or, Louis's famous, Harry has no idea who he is, and they get snowed in together at a ski lodge in Vermont.

walls (20k)

The thing about having been on the move so much for the past five years is that now, once they’re finally able to sit down and rest for a bit, they don’t really know what to do with themselves. Louis loved the pace of the band, for all he and the others complained about it; he isn’t very fond of sitting still, and he absolutely loathes boredom, and there was very little space in their lives for either of those things while they were so busy putting out an album every year and touring more often than not. Being in the same room as Harry while neither of them are under the pressure of keeping up appearances feels like being in a room with a total stranger, and the amount of trouble they’re having trying to get to know each other again is really rather alarming.

Or, a love one whole decade in the making, inspired by Louis's debut album.

fine line (22k)

There’s still a lot of things they don’t talk about, a lot of things they don’t bring home with them at the end of the day, and a lot of things that don’t even need to be said. The world is the world and it sucks sometimes, but it’s far away when Harry’s at home and Louis’s here with him and none of it needs to matter when it could just as easily be ignored. Harry tries to open up sometimes, tries to bring Louis into his world, but Louis’s got a world of his own to tend to, and it feels like more often than not they are on two separate planets and the universe just keeps expanding.

Or, a love three more years in the making, inspired by Harry’s sophomore album.

out for a duck (2k)

“Well, once I got control of Clifford, I took him right back to the house and changed my clothes and gave him one hell of a dressing down, let me tell you,” he scoffs. “And then I felt so bad I went back out to see if the duck had gone back to her eggs, and that Clifford hadn’t damaged them or hurt the duck at all. She wasn’t there when I got back, and I sat there for hours waiting for her, but she never showed her face! She just up and abandoned her babies, just left them there cold and alone, all because a dog barked at her,” he sighs, shaking his head.

“Still not sure why the eggs are now in my kitchen,” Louis frowns.

“I couldn’t just leave them there!” Harry says. “It was my fault they were abandoned! Well, Clifford’s fault, but whatever. I couldn’t live with myself if I just left them there to die. So I came back to the house and got a bowl and some gloves and scooped them up so I could bring them home and keep them warm until they hatch.”

Or, Harry accidentally adopts two duck eggs.

what’s inside your imagination (is as real as anything else) (3k)

“Hey!” Niall shouts suddenly, scaring Harry nearly out of his hat. “We like your costume!”

The ghost turns to glance at Niall, producing a hand from under the sheet and giving him a thumbs up. Harry can’t help but laugh a little more, the casual gesture adding to the entire vibe of the sunglasses-wearing ghost.

The ghost looks at them for a moment longer before turning and disappearing into the crowd again, and Harry sighs. “I love Halloween,” he says thoughtfully.

Or, Harry's a witch who likes to pretend he's a human pretending he's a witch, and Louis's the human in a not-so-clever costume that keeps catching his eye.

satellite (100k)

“It’s been three years since I’ve had a proper hot meal,” Louis says finally. “I have no idea where my family is, or if any of them are even still alive. The only reason I’ve been able to keep myself alive for as long as I have is because I keep to myself, stay guarded, stay hidden. It’s the only way I know how to live,” he says.

Harry wants to cry, but he tries to put on a brave face when Louis finally meets his eyes. “You’re safe here. You don’t have to be so guarded around me,” Harry says quietly, earnestly.

“That’s very sweet of you,” Louis says, putting his fork down. “But yes I do. Especially around you.”

Or, Harry finds out that someone's been living in his house without him knowing, but instead of kicking him out, he falls in love with him.

sugar in a plum (4k)

“I’m your dad,” Harry says softly, extending his hand to Plum for her to have a sniff. Plum considers for a moment, looks up at Louis, and then bites Harry’s finger.

“Ow!” Harry shrieks, pulling his hand away quickly. He’s not bleeding, but Plum’s teeth are incredibly sharp, he feels like he’s been stabbed with ten tiny needles. “Jesus, Lou, I thought we were getting a cat, not a demon.”

Or, Harry's new kitten is out to ruin his life.

there are no atheists in foxholes (64k)

“Do you think we’ll ever see it again?” Harry asks after a minute. “London?”

Louis blinks, looking down. They very well could spend the rest of their lives on this island, and they’re both very aware of that. Everyone probably already thinks they’re dead, anyway. Their flats are going to be sold, and their families are going to have funerals, and life is going to go on without them. Even if they do get rescued, it’s already been days. The news of the shipwreck has definitely reached London by now. They don’t know if there’s been any effort to look for survivors, but they also don’t know how far away from the wreck they are, or how far people are going to go to look for them, or if anyone even knows that this island is here and, like, it’s very possible that they’ve already looked and stopped looking for survivors, and no one knows they’re out here-

“I don’t know,” Louis says, before he can start spiraling. “I hope so, but I don’t know.”

Or, the sea takes everything from Louis, but it gives him back more than he ever could’ve asked for.

it ain’t right, but isn’t it amazing (7k)

It’s all Niall’s fault, as most things are. Niall’s the one that made the bloody Tinder account in the first place, and the one that added every decent looking photo of Louis he could find on his phone, and the one that swiped right on the first fifteen guys that popped up. Yeah, Louis might have done the rest of the work that landed him here, in the men’s toilets of a Japanese restaurant in west London with vomit dripping down his chin and down the very, very attractive chest of the very, very attractive man in front of him, but Niall started it.

Or, Harry takes Louis for sushi on the first date. It doesn't go well.

keep this love in a photograph (48k)

“I could never forget a damn thing about you, Harry Styles, not even if I wanted to,” Louis says. His hair falls into his face when he glances over at Harry, the moonlight reflecting off of it and making it glow golden, like maybe Louis himself is the sun.

Harry thinks of how dark and cold his life got once Louis went away, how Harry got a taste of the sweetest sunshine imaginable and then was plunged into the longest winter of his life. He feels like he’s been buried under mounds of snow for months, years, and he’s finally made it to spring, finally getting another taste of how wonderful life can be.

Or, it’s 1919, and Harry’s been falling in love with his best friend for his entire life.

thrills don’t come for free (4k)

The night before comes back to him slowly, puking in the toilet at the club and then falling asleep in his car in the parking lot. He closes his eyes again for a moment until he realizes that the car is on and moving, and someone is driving it that isn’t him.

He picks his head up and peers between the seats, catching sight of a perfect stranger sitting behind the wheel, singing quietly and driving Louis’s car.

Or, Louis has a bit too much to drink and falls asleep in the backseat of Harry's car.

not even the gods above (25k)

The thing is, though, this isn’t good enough for Harry. Sure, he has the rest of his life to be a notable king, but he wants to be notable now. He wants to bring the two kingdoms together and he wants to do it early on, wants to be the one to facilitate the merge until it seems like the two kingdoms were one all along. He doesn’t want to wait, but everyone he’s turned to thinks waiting is the right choice, so he supposes he has to trust them.

That is, of course, until a declaration of war from the Kingdom of Tomlinson shows up at his palace.

somewhere far away from here (12k)

“Harry,” Louis says, squeezing his arm. “Do you know her?”

“My sister,” Harry mutters, eyes glued to the screen.

“What’s she saying?” Louis asks, voice quiet. “What does she want?”

“Me,” Harry murmurs, hardly a breath. “She knows I’m here.”

Or, Harry's sister comes to Earth to bring him home, but Harry's got a few things keeping him here.

i’ll take your pain (2k)

It’s kind of romantic when Harry thinks about it, feeling all the pain of the person he’s supposed to love for the rest of his life. Sure, it’s rather inconvenient when he’s in class and his soulmate gets kicked in the balls, or when he’s sleeping and his soulmate knocks his head or his knee off something. It’d be nice if the function helped them to find each other, but Harry supposes he can live with knowing that they’re destined to run into each other someday.

Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other's pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed. (Or, the soulmate au crack fic I can't believe I actually wrote.)

the pink album (31k)

They don’t really discuss how hard it is to be in this situation, or to be doing the things they have to do to continue being together. It’s just something they don’t talk about, and that’s alright. Or maybe it isn’t, but they’ll cross that bridge when they get to it.

Or, a love seven years in the making, inspired by Harry's debut album.

i’ll make this feel like home (41k)

It’s nerdy, much nerdier than anything Harry would have engaged in back home. Perrie and Ed are singing some song from West Side Story and Stan is just giggling along, and it’s almost weird how weird Harry doesn’t find it. Liam and Niall would be running as fast as they could from this interaction, but somehow, Harry finds himself giggling along as well.

Maybe it’s because no one in this group seems like they should belong in this group, but Harry feels like he fits right in. He feels more himself than he has in weeks when Louis plops down beside him for a couple moments and throws out another title to add to their movie marathon. Even though he can’t contribute to the conversation about musicals and he has no idea whether The King and I or Oklahoma is more important, he never feels like an outsider.

Or, Harry is new to Plymouth and has had a rough start, but Louis won't rest until he makes it start to feel like home.

dirty laudry looks good on you (19k)

“So um, Niall mentioned you haven’t lived here long. What brings you to London?”

“What is this, an interview?” Louis smirks, stealing Harry’s drink and taking a sip. “Wanted a change of scenery. Dunno.”

Harry hums and takes his drink back, narrowing his eyes playfully at Louis as he takes a long sip. “Can I buy you a drink, or would you rather keep sharing mine?”

“You most certainly can buy me a drink,” Louis grins, grabbing the bottle back out of Harry’s hand, “but I’m still going to be stealing yours.”

Or, Harry is jaded and sad and resigned to be forever alone, until Niall sets him up with a friend of his whose broken pieces may just fit pretty well with Harry's.

we’ve got to get away from here (23k)

“It is my understanding that you are the most comprehensive member of this agency in the field of extraterrestrial life, is that right?” the agent asks. He’s trying to sound calm, but Louis can tell he’s shaken as well.

“Um, I guess so,” Louis says, glancing over at the man in the blanket again.

Suddenly, Louis’s blood runs cold. There’s something off about the man, something in his gaze, something Louis can’t put his finger on. It’s terribly unsettling, but excitement bubbles in his gut.

Or, Louis is an FBI agent who likes to think himself a paranormal expert, and Harry is the alien that somehow ended up in his office.

in midnights, in cups of coffee (15k)

“Sorry about the sugar,” Louis says, backing toward his own flat. “Bundle up before you go out.”

Harry smiles so sweetly then that Louis can’t imagine he’ll even need the sugar, if the muffins aren’t sweet enough just because they were made by him. “Thanks,” he says, eyes lingering a little longer on Louis before he lets himself back into Gemma’s apartment, and then Louis is just standing in the hallway by himself.

Or, Louis is overworked and cold, Harry is stressed out, and they might be in love.

come away with me (80k)

Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

in the night (19k)

Or, the self-indulgent reversed pov and slight continuation of come away with me.

my song has not been sung (2k)

Or, Harry is watching a protest from the sidelines until a boy with a rainbow flag and a pretty smile drags him right into the middle of it.

i’ll be home for christmas (12k)

Or, Louis and Harry can’t decide where to go on Christmas.

autumn leaves (27k)

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

we’ve got unfinished business (7k)

Or, there’s a ghost in Harry and Louis’s apartment that seemingly just wants them to date.

falling in love with you again (4k)

Or, three times in which Louis fell in love with Harry all over again.

heading for a small disaster (20k)

Or, Harry drives an Uber and Louis’s life is falling apart.

don’t stop to worry (4k)

It was just supposed to be a trim today, to skim off the dead ends of his hair. He had no idea it’d end the way it did.

Or, Harry cuts his hair. It's kind of a big deal.

diamonds, they fade (1k)

The cold does nothing tonight but remind Louis of the boy he left inside, the boy that’s curled up under the blankets by himself right now, the boy that’s probably going to come looking for him soon when he wakes up and Louis isn’t there.

Or, Louis has insomnia.

maps can be poems when you’re on your own (19k)

Or, Harry falls in love with the guy his best friend is fooling around with.

we could be enough (4k)

Or, Harry runs an anonymous crush confession column in the school newspaper and Louis has quite the crush to write in about.

no place to call home (22k)

Or, Louis isn't Peter Pan and Harry isn't Wendy and Neverland is nothing like Harry thought it would be, but it's perfect anyway.

show a little mercy (3k)

Louis hates him so, so much. But then again, he’s never loved someone quite so fiercely.

Or, Louis and Harry try to break up. (Or, a drabble based on Love You Goodbye)

kiss me on the mouth and set me free (17k)

Or, Louis is a gamer and Harry is a beauty guru, and VidCon is a good place to fall in love.

sing me like a choir (17k)

Or, Harry is nervous to do actual makeup on his channel, until his boyfriend Louis helps him out.

please don’t bite (21k)

Or, Harry releases his own line of beauty products, and Louis feels abandoned when Harry’s newfound fame gets the best of him.

underneath the christmas tree (17k)

Louis sends Harry on a scavenger hunt on Christmas Eve.

to be loved and to be in love (50k)

Harry and Louis' first year as a couple, as captured by snippets of home movies.

hope your heart is strong enough (4k)

Prompt: Set in the US, Harry spends Thanksgiving with Louis' family, or vice versa. Chaos ensues.

to watch you fall (16k)

Or, Harry is lonely and Louis is engaged to be married.

give me your hand and i’ll hold it (18k)

Prompt: Harry (9) moves in next to Louis (11). They have little roofs under their bedroom windows and like to sit there and talk. Seven years later, Louis has to leave for college.

you make me strong (14k)

Louis comes home from war with a few more problems than he left with, but Harry can't find it in himself to let him go.

#faaw #fics

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the-melting-world · 3 years

Text

Strength | Playbook Commentary [Side B]

Need to catch up? The full album can be found here: Strength

Note: Song lyric application may not always correspond with the original meaning / intention of the song’s origins.

Enjoy these breakdowns of the lyrics that influenced and inspired some of the events and imagery used in Strength. All songs are borrowed from Blanco White’s albums On the Other Side, Colder Heavens, and Nocturne EP.

cw: mentions of pregnancy

~ Side B Playlist ~

"Chasing Dials"

"Samara"

"The Lily"

"Colder Heavens"

"El Búho"

"November Rain"

"So Certain"

"Nocturne"

****

“Chasing Dials”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

Chasing dials, it ain't ever enough / No, no, no, it ain't ever enough

One life, smothering the whispers and sounds / Waiting as the hand comes back around / So seek while you can and run it down / Or the time is lost, forgotten in the crowd / Or the missing time will be lost / And like me, you won't know how

Commentary

“Chasing dials, it ain't ever enough / No, no, no, it ain't ever enough” – Not only do these lines capture the tone and message of this fic, but they also establish one of the major themes in the album. Khleo has been “chasing” her dream of owning a beer garden for most of her adult life. Every year, she’s reminded that no matter how much progress she has made, she’s nowhere close to achieving her goals. The “dials” connect to ideas of endless cycles.

“One life, smothering the whispers and sounds / Waiting as the hand comes back around / So seek while you can and run it down” – Khleo often feels like the struggle/hustle of her position in life makes it hard to pay attention to her goals and dreams. Life has a way of “smothering” the “whispers and sounds” – those small voices in her head telling her to keep going or pursuing her dream. Khleo often feels like she’s caught in this cycle of “waiting as the hand comes back around” but even though it gets exhausting, she always pulls herself back up to go after what she wants “seek while you can and run it down.”

****

“Samara”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

I need no rest / In my mind, we're alone / You said, "Life is a long road" / Was I just waiting to arrive / For one day by your side?

Has my time ended to say so? / Has my time ended? Would I know? / Has my time ended to say so? / Has my time ended? Time to let you know

Commentary

“I need no rest” – When asked by the Strength Major Arcana if she wants to have a seat on her throne, Khleo turns her down and keeps running up the hills of her patron’s gate.

“Has my time ended to say so? / Has my time ended? Would I know?” – These lyrics reflect what Lucio’s going through at this stage in his own journey. He’s sort of in a state of limbo and doesn’t really know where or how he fits in the communities that he’s passing through. He’s still trying to figure out if he has a say in what’s going to happen to him or in how his life will play out.

****

“The Lily”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

Now they tell me she’s just vanished / Some other place by the sea / But to me she was banished / By herself not by me

Lily spoke of a city’s bones / An ancient rubble of time and stone / Where the walls tremor under the sky / Covered day after day by the tide / Could I save them if I tried? / If only I could

Commentary

“Now they tell me she’s just vanished / Some other place by the sea” – These lyrics reflect Samira’s behavior in the chapters leading up to her confiding in Khleo about her pregnancy. She has been keeping it a secret from her coworkers and her boss. One way this is shown is her “vanishing” from social events like the New Year’s Day bar crawl in the “Chasing Dials” chapter, in which her friends were staying up late drinking and partying.

“But to me she was banished / By herself not by me” – Samira has chosen to keep her baby for reasons undisclosed to Khleo or anyone else. She’s determined to pay for her passage across the ocean to get to her sister in Nevivon so she can have and raise the child comfortably. The word “banished” echoes society’s inflexibility when it comes to single parents, especially young ones without an education or a traditional family there to support them. “By herself not by me” once again emphasizes the fact that by choosing to keep her child, Samira is essentially accepting to enter a world of decreased opportunities. No matter how hard she works or how healthy/competent of a parent she is, her current situation will not support her transition to motherhood without significant costs to her and her unborn child’s standard of living.

****

“Colder Heavens”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

Now we’re so tired by the things we have seen / All we’ve forgotten only visits in dreams / How I misunderstood / Here I stand undressed / Here I confess my doubt

Only once I saw the killer / Once I saw the killer up close

If colder heavens come / Carry me further down / Where our madness rests / Where I’ll have less to doubt

Commentary

“Now we’re so tired by the things we have seen / All we’ve forgotten only visits in dreams” – These lyrics reflect Khleo’s origins as a fighter. In some ways she has grown “tired” of the challenges that cross her path to test her mettle or in which she has to defend her territory. This can be seen in her fight against the raiders. She doesn’t want glory or a title. She just wants them to leave her patrons alone so she can peacefully run her club. “All we’ve forgotten only visits in dreams” echoes the beginning of the chapter that shows a young Khleo who does not even have the strength to lift her arms, let alone pull off the feats of strength that she does later on in the story.

“Only once I saw the killer / Once I saw the killer up close” – These lyrics connect to Khleo giving into the temptation of wrath during her fight with the raiders. Usually, she’s careful about downplaying her abilities to heal and regenerate, but in this moment she is seeing “the killer up close” and embracing the darker side of her nature in order to solve the conflict.

“If colder heavens come / Carry me further down / Where our madness rests / Where I’ll have less to doubt” – I really like this idea of Khleo’s fight club being this sort of “colder heaven” in the sense that she can use it as an escape, but it’s still “cold” in that if word gets out about it, it can lead to dangerous territory. The club also comes with a lot of negative history from when Khleo was a street fighter. “Where our madness rests / Where I’ll have less to doubt” once again emphasizes the fact that Khleo uses fight club to unleash her inner beast in a safe space, so to speak. She doesn’t have to doubt herself as much as she does when she’s working during the day.

****

“El Búho”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

In the night I hear them call, Move in the dark, their shapes unfold, In these eyes I quiver, darker still In closed doors / Don’t speak like you were there

This time I’m torn, please wake me if I lose that face / Search in these eyes / There’s still fire in the darkness / And rooms of light

Still I dream in greens and blues / Days that break and skies that move / Memory’s eyes that quiver

Commentary

“In the night I hear them call / Move in the dark, their shapes unfold, In these eyes I quiver, darker still in closed doors / Don’t speak like you were there” – These lyrics are all about Khleo once again getting in touch with the darker parts of herself that are associated with enraged beasts. They also speak to Lucio’s experience with Valdemar, who shows up to claim Lucio and rip him away from the support system that he’s been developing during his time with Khleo.

“This time I’m torn, please wake me if I lose that face / Search in these eyes / There’s still fire in the darkness / And rooms of light” – Khleo is being violently separated from her biggest support system and source of emotional stability – Hefe. Khleo’s familiar has been the one to redirect her when she’s at risking at “losing that face” or giving into her darker side. “There’s still fire in the darkness” connects to the imagery of the fireplace, which serves as the real world equivalent of Khleo’s throne back in Strength’s realm. The imagery and connection between the throne and the hearth play a major role in this chapter.

“Still I dream in greens and blues / Days that break and skies that move / Memory’s eyes that quiver” – When everything has been taken away from Khleo at the end, they still try to return to Strength’s gate, where they know they can rest. But without Hefe, they cannot reach that realm.

****

“November Rain”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

Don’t you wish it was clear? / I’ve been thinking these thoughts for years now / No not all’s been forgotten / Don’t you wish you were here?

I long for the tide’s straight line / Out on the shore / A bitter line, a solid wall / Never to fall

Commentary

“Don’t you wish it was clear? / I’ve been thinking these thoughts for years now / No, not all’s been forgotten / Don’t you wish you were here?” – This chapter begins with another flashback from Khleo’s past. In this one, Khleo’s adoptive father, Hans, gives some insight into Khleo’s internal conflict. Khleo associates Hans with all the things that she finds nostalgic and things that bring her joy. Her dreams of her childhood are a safe place that she often wishes she could return to, even though the reader doesn’t always explicitly see Khleo reminiscing.

“I long for the tide’s straight line / Out on the shore / A bitter line, a solid wall / Never to fall” – Now that Hefe is gone, Khleo feels like she has even less answers on how to deal with forces that make her life harder. She longs for a “straight line” to get the things she wants. And the promise that she will “never fall” or fail at trying to achieve her dreams.

****

“So Certain”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

Do we see the world with eyes alone? / Here it feels like there's a house that I've always known / So certain that something reminds me / Of a place and time that were only in my dreams

Is the real world ever known? / Here it feels like I'm an exile who's coming home

Commentary

“Do we see the world with eyes alone? / Here it feels like there's a house that I've always known” – As seen in Khleo’s reading with Asra, it’s clear that she has a very strong, unique connection to the Arcana, but she doesn’t know how to describe it or fully understands her own connection to the Strength card

“So certain that something reminds me / Of a place and time that were only in my dreams” – These lyrics once again echo the familiarity Khleo experiences when they look upon the Strength card. Even though Khleo has been to Strength’s gate many times and was even, in a sense, born there, it’s still a place that they only register as a dream.

****

"Nocturne”

Lyrics that had the most impact on the chapter:

And time fell away with the sound of each step / If the stars align then for us they were meant in the lunar sky

About time for a night away – I never saw the day come / When they dream again

Commentary

“And time fell away with the sound of each step / If the stars align then for us they were meant in the lunar sky” – These lyrics are not so significant in meaning, but rather capture the vibe of what’s going on in Nadia’s vision with the High Priestess. Whenever Nadia or anyone in these fics have interactions with their patrons, time and reality have a way of splitting as the character gets in touch with more cosmic energies.

“About time for a night away – I never saw the day come / When they dream again” – Once again the theme of night is emphasized here, as it is in the title. However, where darkness was regarded as something that one should avoid (Khleo’s rage, the abuse she suffers in the darkness of the basement, Lucio’s imprisonment in the basement of the Lazaret, etc) now it means something more hopeful (night holds darkness, but it also promises the day/dawn). This can be seen at the end of the chapter when Khleo is recovering from a very bloody fight. She has a moment with Kipling, who encourages Khleo to keep going even though she’s totally defeated. In the last lines, Khleo is waking up to the morning light and clings to those feelings of hope after reading the poem that Kip left her.

#more lore for the lion babe #arcana albums #arcana albums: strength #khleo the barhand #strength reversed playlist commentary #album lore

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

Text

astronomy in reverse

Pairing: Roy English/Calum Hood Rating: T for language Word Count: 2016 Read on AO3

Summary: Roy and Calum go stargazing

Calum has learned more about the night sky in the past year than he has in his entire life leading up to that point. He attributes nearly all of his new knowledge to increased time with Roy. When the world stopped turning, Calum was suddenly confined to the house rather than a tour bus, for better or for worse. To an extent he’s glad: Roy and Duke are home, which is a pretty big silver lining. While he’s missed making music with the band and hearing venues erupt with fans screaming their lyrics and even the constant feeling of miles and miles of road disappearing under his feet, long walks with Duke and long nights spent wrapped up in his boyfriend have more than made up for it.

His favorite nights involve gazing at the sky while Roy talks about astrology or astronomy or cosmology or philosophy or spirituality or anything he fancies. One thing that Calum loves about Roy is that he’s always coming up with new, interesting ideas about the world. The first night they spent alone together in Bali was an exploration in thought that he could never have anticipated but was enraptured by nonetheless. He doesn’t remember the specifics of what they talked about, but he remembers that he fell in love a little, and even though both of them have different thoughts now, that initial spark has never gone away.

“It’s going to be a clear night,” Roy says while they’re eating leftovers for dinner on the couch, Calum keeping a careful eye on Duke so he doesn’t lunge for his plate.

“Yeah?” he asks. Roy clicks his tongue at Duke and offers him a potato chip, allowing Calum to relax and take a bite of his own food.

“Mars should be visible,” Roy says. Calum watches fondly as he scratches Duke behind the ears. The sun hasn’t set yet, and the natural light highlights his face in a warm glow. Roy is always sunny, even in the dead of winter or in the middle of a rainstorm, like he’s somehow able to trap rays within his skin so he can shine in every context. Looking at him grinning down at Duke now, Calum feels lucky that the universe aligned to bring them all together.

“Do you want to go out for it?” he asks. Their backyard is far enough from the heart of the city that they can see the North Star most nights, but Roy has found a place a reasonable drive away that lets them put together more constellations.

Roy smiles at him in response, giving Duke an opening to lunge for more chips. Dinner dissolves into a battle to corral an unruly dog acting more like a puppy than an old man for once in his life, but Calum doesn’t mind as long as he can hear Roy’s loud laugh and keep seeing him shine.

-/-

They head out once they clean up the mess in the living room. The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky in pastels and lengthening all of the shadows in corners of the city. Their destination is a hill in the middle of a park, a frequently visited little haven, but Calum is happy to see that they’re the only people there tonight. They park the car and Calum grabs a blanket kept in back. It’s a nice evening: cool but not cold, skies clear with an occasional gentle breeze. Crickets and the rare bird call tickle his ears as Roy grabs his hand as they walk, tilting his head up to look at the moon, a bright spot half-full even while the last of the sun’s rays illuminate the sky. He doesn’t let go when they reach the peak of the hill, leaving Calum to try to spread the blanket on the grass one-handed. It doesn’t work, and Roy laughs at him before taking pity and helping.

“It’ll be more helpful if you’d let go,” Calum says as they tug on different corners and try to lay the blanket down in sync.

“It’s important to challenge yourself.”

“Fuck off,” Calum laughs as Roy pulls him down onto the blanket next to him, holding their hands safely in his lap. Calum turns his gaze to the sky, quickly landing on the moon again. He lays down and settles in, pulling Roy down with him by their joined hands so he can talk to him easier while they wait for all of the stars to come out.

“Do you think aliens exist?” Roy asks after they’ve laid in quiet for a few minutes tracing the craters of the moon with their eyes.

“Yes,” Calum says automatically. He glances at Roy, harder to see now that the sun has fully set, but the upward angle of his lips is still visible.

“Why?”

“The universe is fucking huge,” Calum says. “There’s no way that there isn’t other life out there. It might not be recognizable to us, but I don’t think our little world is that unique. We just haven’t expanded our search enough.”

“If it’s not recognizable to us, is it still life, or is it something else?” Roy asks. Calum hums.

“I guess it depends. If we can’t recognize it as life then we probably wouldn’t consider it alive as a society, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t.”

Roy smiles wider, the way he does when Calum has a thought he particularly likes.

“Scientists talk about life-cycles of stars from birth to death despite not considering them living organisms like us, but I think that’s because subconsciously we know that we’re all the same. We’re all connected. Just because stars don’t breathe doesn’t mean they can’t be alive.”

“So the stars are aliens?” Calum asks, finding Polaris above them.

“Maybe none of us are aliens,” Roy says. “‘Alien’ implies ‘other,’ and there is no other. All of our differences are arbitrary, but at the core everything comes from the same place. Scientists said we’re made of the same things as stars. We’re part of the same universe and the same collective unconscious. Why shouldn’t that extend to the other creations we share the universe with?”

Calum hums. He gazes at the stars and tries to imagine them as alive.

“What about our phones and guitars and stuff?” he asks. “There are non-living things in the world. Where do you draw the line?”

Calum can feel Roy shrug next to him.

“Somewhere between stars and guitars,” he says. “Maybe stars are part of a bigger life. The Creator’s synapses.”

“And us?”

“His favorite creations. You are, at least. He definitely should be proud of what he did there.”

Calum glances at him.

“Are you trying to use God to flirt with me?”

Roy smiles, still bright in the dark.

“Just telling the truth. Well, as much of the truth as we can be certain of.”

“It’s called the truth because we’re certain of it. Everything else is called a mystery.”

Roy shakes his head. “You can figure out mysteries without having a definite truth. What I thought was a definite truth before could be something different now.”

Calum considers.

“And if I said that grass is green?”

“Fuck off,” Roy laughs. “I’m talking about bigger things. Truths of the universe in philosophy or religion. Things where truth is dependent on belief rather than something provable.”

“Alright, alright,” Calum concedes. “I get what you’re saying.” Roy squeezes his hand. Calum squeezes back, a silent transaction that makes him smile.

“Look,” Roy says after a moment, pointing with their joined hands up at the sky. “Boötes. Did you know that ancient cultures had different names for this constellation, but lots of stories for it call him a herdsman of some sort? More evidence of the collective consciousness and human unity.”

Calum hums, because he has heard that before. Boötes is Roy’s favorite constellation because he likes saying the name. Calum’s favorite is one that they made up when they were out in the desert celebrating Ashton’s album release. It’s hard to see this close to the city, and it’s probably only really visible in the fall anyway, but it making it was one of his favorite memories from the fall, both of them sitting in the same lounge chair and gazing up at a sky more luminous than this one, picking out different shapes and forming outrageous stories behind them.

They do a lot of storytelling in their house. Songwriting is its own form of storytelling, of course, but they also do more traditional sorts, recounting things from their day or sitting together entertaining each other with their imaginations. It’s an exercise in creativity, stretching different muscles that songwriting doesn’t always hit or that Calum doesn’t think to use in everyday life, and he feels like he’s better for it. If nothing else, it’s saved him from boredom in quarantine and has kept him from traveling in circles in his head.

“Hey,” Roy says, “what do you think happens when we die?”

Calum could never be bored with Roy around.

They spend more time discussing various questions and secrets in hushed voices under the cover of the sky, staring at the specks of stars far above them. Roy points out which speck should be Mars once he’s fairly certain he doesn’t have it wrong, raising their joined hands to the sky for Calum to follow, and Calum uses sightlines as an excuse to shift closer.

Roy knows that it’s bullshit, but Calum gets a kiss for his troubles.

They trade a few more words back and forth before fading into silence. Calum stares at the sky and listens to Roy’s gentle breathing next to him and the crickets hidden somewhere in the grass. He takes his own deep breath of the crisp night air, as fresh and clear as it gets near LA, and feels any lingering tension from the day leave his body. Out here, cuddled up to the man he loves and watching glittering pieces of celestial gas that might have burnt out already, it’s hard to feel like any of the things that typically bother him matter. There’s something to be said about contextualizing his problems against the entire universe, and there’s something to be said about doing that while trying to unwrap the universe with Roy.

When they delve into these sorts of talks, Calum always walks away with a worse understanding of the universe and a much better understanding of Roy.

Maybe that’s the point. Maybe humans aren’t meant to reveal the secrets of the universe, but rather to reveal their own secrets to each other. Calum knows the way that Roy thinks now. He knows why he loves the stories he does and how he views himself in relation to the rest of humanity. He understands Roy’s compassion and his love for the world they’re in. He knows who Roy is, and he knows a little more every time Roy asks him about things that Calum can only guess at.

He’s never felt like he knows anyone quite like he knows Roy. It’s more than the fact that they’re roommates and Calum knows what brand of toothpaste he uses and how he takes his coffee. It’s like Roy is a distant star, and Calum keeps twisting his telescope further into focus, and he knows that it goes the same way. Roy knows how he likes his eggs and which bass is his favorite, but he also knows the inner workings of Calum’s thoughts. He knows the way their hands fit perfectly together and when they have to let go to avoid them getting uncomfortably sweaty.

He glances at him, profile barely discernible in the dark.

“Hey,” he says quietly. Roy’s head tips towards him, breaking his staring contest with the sky. “I love you. I’m glad the universe let me know you.”

Roy doesn’t say anything, just brings Calum’s hand to his lips and kisses it, and they go back to watching the sky together, existing in a tiny pocket of space carved just for them and the stars.

#my writing #roylum #5sos fic #don't really have anything to add to this one #shout out to megs for asking if there was a screenshot when i got grumpy about the insta post this is based on being deleted

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f-117-nighthawk · 3 years

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Playlist Update? From MY Brain? More Likely Than You Think

can't remember the last time I posted these all together but I just put a few new songs in. I've been playing Arknights bc STARSET songs keep being used in the trailers, and then I was listening to Transmissions while making dinner, and uhhhhh there's two new Transmissions songs on the playlists, plus whatever else the spotify links needed to update to my ever-changing apple versions.

This is just the main playlist, because this one is now 3h 40m, and the other three playlists are about an hour each. I’ll give them their own post tomorrow. Under the cut, because it's also Write Random Snippits and Include Important Lyrics time

Dark Matter

Surprise surprise, this one’s got probably the most work done on it. A lot of that is moving things around, a few deletions, and the additions.

DM now starts with Your World Will Fail, Dark Matter, and Eater of Worlds. Turn the Lights Out still kinda applies, but I stopped vibing with it starting everything, and wasn’t really sure where else it should go so it got dropped. It’s role is sort of picked up by a UtA song later? Anyway, the opening three are still very much about not only the birth of [REDACTED], but the birth of the universe itself. And that’s why it feels better to start out with YWWF. Because it is the start.

(Your world will fail my love/It’s far beyond repair/Your world will fail my love/It is already there)

(Bring me your soul/Bring me your hate/In my name you will create/Bring me your fear/Bring me your pain/You will destroy in my name)

(Can’t imagine the violence/The rage and the love in my madness/I am the eater of worlds and I’m looking for someone to feed me)

Remnants of Stars is a hook to Filaments at this point, but stays way up here because the thing it’s about connects back up to those three ^ and is something slowly realized by the Paladins throughout the series. There’s kinda three different points that they realize something new about this (at the moment, I Am the One, Cosmic Vertigo, and Centigrade).

(Shed all you know and make way for a galaxy of light/Answers found hidden inside the smallest stone/Bringing forth a new way of life/Open your heart to the sky)

Apocalypse 1992 hasn’t changed. Still about The Fall, still the turning point for the entire damn war. Still about poor Krolia. Still the Rogue One of DM. It happens between parts of Awakenings, detailing the rise of [REDACTED] and the final hours before the destruction of everything sentient species knew beforehand.

(Fly high through apocalypse skies/Fight for the world we must save/Like tears of a unicorn lost in the rain/Chaos will triumph this day)

Apex is the final moments of Apocalypse 1992 from the Red Lion’s perspective, and connects nicely (just as in the albums lol) to the next UtA songs. Which we’ll get to in a bit.

(Brother mountain/Now we sleep/For a thousand years/I will see you again/Something is coming/Coming for me)

You Keep What You Kill covers the slow degeneration of the Empire between The Fall and the Battle of Arus. The knowledge harshly taught by the Thuanial War is forgotten under the influence of Zarkon, Haggar, and [REDACTED]. Marzin and Galraasa quickly rise the ranks as the Empire’s left and right hands, like omens of destruction before them. The four are the ‘holy half-dead,’ the ones who shape the devouring of the universe before them.

(Defying dimensions/These ruthless creatures will steal your soul/Breaking away from the chains of mortality/They won’t be taken down/Bow now to the holy half dead/The master to death mongers calls)

The Glory and the Scum is partially here bc I missed having Delain, I’ll freely admit that. (Delain split up! Like six months ago! I’m still sad!) Here, it’s (most) of the reason why Krolia isn’t around until MGHM. Think Winter Soldier-ish. It’s also from Krolia’s perspective as she’s talking to Kolivan in a conversation I implied in Shatterpoint. Perhaps it shall see the light of day.

(Look at what we've done/Take a step back/Shake your head at what we have become/We're the glory and the scum)

The Seven Sisters is about Keith, mostly, and connected to Closure via its influence on Child From the Stars (Lost in the Dark) and also to Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met. Also the thing about the Pleiades has kinda become A Thing associated with my two favorite halfbloods.

(I cast my hope upon The Pleiades/The Seven Sisters who would come for me/They’d fall to Earth to grant a child’s dream/But I’m still waiting)

Starlight is the Adashi song. Here, it’s the sad part, based around the time that the SFSS Genesis launches for Kerberos. It also is sort of about Shiro’s thoughts throughout the war as he watches ‘from distant skies’ (and influences String Theory kinda)

(At night the earth will rise/And I’ll think of you each time I watch from distant skies/Whenever stars go down and galaxies ignite/I’ll think of you each time they wash me in their light/And I’ll fall in love with you again)

Waking Dream and Abyss are Awakenings. They’re specifically the Red Lion waking up on Sendak’s ship to her new Paladin, but also sort of the rest of the Lions as they find new Paladins for the first time since The Fall (and, also, an accidental hook to the end of Filaments just by virtue of being on the same UtA album…)

(Centuries like flowing streams as years go rushing by/Waiting in the dark for afterlife)

(Open my eyes in a daze/How long has it been? Am I so out of place?/Warmth I can no longer feel/My mountain is gone, I’m surrounded by steel/The strangest of structures arises ahead/Seems to be held up by nothing/Where have I gone, do I dream?/How can the stars be all I can see?)

Who Will Save You Now is about the Paladins in First Contact. It’s the video messages they send to their families, the warning that Something Is Out Here that they need to prepare for. It’s a declaration of protection for Earth, but a recognition that the Paladins may not be able to do what they say.

(I will not take from you and you will not owe/I will protect you from the fire below/It’s not in my mind/It’s here at my side/Go tell the world that I’m still alive)

Then there’s The End of the Beginning. Which is, well, the eponymous fic. And don’t forget the String Theory connection! Fun fact: part of the last chapter leads directly into part of String Theory at the moment.

(Every night I die just a little/All this time, I’m caught in the middle/All your life, you fought with no winning/This is just the end of the beginning)

A Simple Plan is about anything but a simple plan. Lotor is making his secret bid for the construction of the Sinkline ships, but there’s one more thing he needs before it can come to fruition. Haggar has suspicions, and knows one thing that she needs to keep from both him and Voltron. Team Voltron is still struggling to fit into their new roles, especially with a Black Paladin who adamantly does not want to be Black Paladin, and is in desperate need of one thing to fix the last of the damage done during the Battle of the Sarnan Nebula.

(How long can we hold off ending?/How long can we pretend we’re ok?/No one goes on fighting it forever/I know I’m better this way)

Memories of a Girl I Haven’t Met. Such a short song for such an important fic. It skips all the way over Naxzela to the Mission to the Baaria Shipyards, the first major offensive that isn’t somehow connected to canon (even if only a very very small part of it is actually at the shipyards lol). This is also the song that solidified Keith’s very queer identity in Dark Matter. And more Pleiades stuff!

(In this lonely place, bathed in silence and thoughts of you/I can’t see your face but I’m trying to envision you/So are you really out there? Are you awake with memories/Of a boy you haven’t met yet who’s wished upon the Pleiades?)

There’s another fic in here that I’m still waiting for a song to catch my ear, but it’s pretty big so I’m putting it in here. For the moment, it’s called MGHM 2.0: Electric Paladinloo. Featuring the Whispers, Voltron, and a few mullets.

And then. Hoh boy. The beast of beats. TRIALS (reimagine), Dark On Me, String Theory, and I Am the One. We’ve got [REDACTED], we’ve got [spoiler], we’ve got the first major turning point in the entire war, and the first revelation of the true nature of [REDACTED]. Hence the honor of being the separation point of my two main DM folders. TRIALS is the first part, the horrifying realization. Dark On Me and String Theory itself are from Shiro’s perspective. I Am the One is… an image song? I guess? That’s all I’ll say on that. (I would like to note that the STARSET songs bar OWtT tend to be about the Shiroganes…)

(Hear me from the bottom/Forged in regret, I'm the silversmith/Doomsday, you we had it coming/Marching the streets with an iron fist/Obey no more in silence/The steel in our hearts will be monuments/Today, they'll hear the violence/We'll rise from the dark like Lazarus)

(You're the cause/The antidote/The sinking ship that I could not let go/You led my way, then disappeared/How could you just walk away and leave me here?/Light the night up, you're my dark star/And now you're falling away)

(You don’t believe in space/You don’t believe in light/You don’t believe that anything is well beyond your might/We walk across the sky and beneath the ocean floor/We’re never going anywhere we’ve never been before)

(I am the one/I am the architect to rule your fate)

House on Fire is the aftermath of String Theory, and a large vibe of We ARE Struggling Together! It’s about family, never letting go of something you care about, and the slow act of trusting.

(So I’ll just hold you like a hand grenade/You touch me like a razor blade/I wish there was some other way right now/Like a house on fire we’re up in flames/I’d burn here if that’s what it takes/To let you know I won’t let go of you)

Belgrade is The klance song! It is a) a bop b) always stuck in my head because it is That Good. The line in the chorus about ‘sweet songs of seduction’ is eternally funny to me bc a)they’re both ace and b)QPR’s don’t usually involve seduction. Belgrade also leads almost directly into…

(We pretend in the darkness/We pretend the night won’t steal our youth/Singing me the sweet songs of seduction/Let me be the fool, fool, fool/Who will live and die for you)

Here to Save You is about Sam. Mostly. It’s also about Pidge. And Zaivorge cannons.

(A slave for humankind/I made sure I would survive/To stay alive/Now it’s time to move on/When there’s nothing left to prove/I’m coming to get you)

Iron is the third Closure fic (the second is End of the Beginning, forgot to mention that. They’ve slowly moved away from actually being related to it in anything but name and general idea). It’s about Keith coming to terms with parts of himself, and learning how to use them to great effect. Also has a huge info dump about the Blade.

(You can’t live without the fire/It’s the heat that makes you strong/‘Cause you’re born to live/And fight it all the way/You can’t hide what lies inside you/It’s the only thing you know/You’re embracing that, never walk away)

The second major turning point in the war is Monarch, Birthright, and Firewall. I really recommend reading the whole lyrics for Monarch, because the entire thing is very much a Lotor song. I had a bit of trouble picking a lyric to use here. Monarch is here because Lotor is also the ‘singer’ of Birthright, and both songs are to a very specific high-level target of the Coalition. Firewall is a little different as it’s a Team Voltron song not a Lotor song, but happens because of the same thing the other two do. They’re all not exactly a direct result of Iron, but they wouldn’t happen how they do without it, and then [REDACTED] swings back into the fray and things learned in String Theory/the framing story for Through Apocalypse Skies hit in full force.

(I am not the person you remember from before/The one you patronized and stepped on, the one you hurt/And I have pulled the arrows, now my skin has become stone/No longer am I prisoner to your empty fucking words)

(The voices in my head have all begun to sing/(The voices in your head have all begun to sing)/And they sure as hell hope I am listening/(I sure as hell hope you are listening!))

(They come to your dreams with illusion/They come to bring shape to your mind/You know how to stop the intrusion/We all have to fight for our lives)

and then, The Day the Earth Collapsed

(How much time has been elapsed/Since the day the earth collapsed?)

Here Comes the Reign doesn’t come into full effect until several months after Birthright/Firewall, but starts with The Day the Earth Collapsed. It’s largely about Haggar and [REDACTED]

(You made something they can’t take away/Now bring the fire of the burning sun on everyone)

Supersonic is here… kinda as a placeholder? Things have shifted around since its original purpose, and frankly it’s here still as a framework for what I like to call The Meme Battle. It’s generally about the increase in Coalition support and general winning as they go after warlords in the aftermath of Feyiv, culminating in I Need a Hero which is, of course, The Meme Battle.

Yes, it’s the Shrek version. It’s the Meme Battle.

(Supersonic, polyphonic, this is our war/Mustering the armies, marching faster than before)

(I need a hero/I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night/He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast/And he's gotta be fresh from the fight)

But Tonight We Dance isn’t exactly a klance song, but it’s here for them. On a diplomatic mission gone wrong, the Red and Blue Paladins of Voltron uncover a literally-buried government conspiracy, a rebel cell, and nearly die. A normal days work for the two of them. But they’ve really gotta stop having relationship milestones in the middle of a warzone.

Another reason it’s here is Tonight We Dance is a very aro song to me. “A language universal, but I speak not its tongue” hits hard. I felt like I needed a bit in here to remind listeners/readers that romance isn’t a language Keith speaks. And it becomes very explicit in this fic, just like Belgrade.

(Tomorrow we might wake in servitude and silence/I will give you everything if only you would have me/Tomorrow we will sweat and toil/Our hands will quiver, caked with soil/Tomorrow we'll give it one last chance/But tonight we dance/But tonight we dance!)

But Tonight We Dance is the last of the Closure fics, which is why it’s here. Closure in general is a lot of Keith’s character development and some of the struggles he goes through to accept his place in the universe and the fact that yes, he does have people that care about him. The last fic is me shining a brighter light on Closure’s chorus and taking a ‘last goodbye’ as never needing to say it again

(I am the child from the stars/That got lost in the dark/Between heaven and hell/I am forced to live on/I am the cause when you sin/I am the demon you skin/But there is no more tears to beautify/This is my last goodbye)

Then we step back into the universe-level action with Soulbound. Revelations from String Theory and Firewall swing back in with a vengeance on a joint Whispers-Voltron mission, leaving them reeling and Krolia questioning her very identity.

(Soulbound, endlessly forever/Locked between the darkness and the light/Don’t drown in the swarming, blackened rising/Hold on to humanity and fight)

About three months after that is My Darkest Hour and Faster Than Light. Haggar realizes something and goes searching for her fifth [spoiler], sending the Blade and the rest of the Coalition scrambling. These also lead directly, and I mean directly, into…

(When the sun comes crashing down/When the world is spinning round and round/I will face what must be my darkest hour)

(Once more we’re flying fast as light/Dark matter passing in the night/Pursued by a force we can’t outrun/As we hurtle towards a dying sun/We maneuver through the remnants of a moon/On the solar winds of supernovas/There is not a place to hide, the Matriarch is close behind/It’s plain to see she’s coming for us all)

Cosmic Vertigo and Other Worlds Than These. Together they are the second of two revelations in what, exactly, is [REDACTED]

(Banish me like burned down planets/Write my fate with sparkling lies/I am the universe; you're just one sky)

(Pull the wool out from your eyes/It won’t shade your frail belief/In the end we cannot hide/There are other worlds than these)

Godhunter is Team Voltron, well, hunting for gods, even as one of them disappears.

(She’s been watching for a century/With hatred, and with scorn/If you know the hunter’s coming/Then you hide or keep on running/'Cause she’s slain the gods before)

Trophy Hunter, Ember, and Redemption are the culmination of Godhunter. I’ve been thinking of them as akin to the suicide mission in Mass Effect 2, if that gives you an idea of what the hell they run into. Also I switched which specific Redemption is on the playlist, because I was listening to Red Handed Denial again and their Redemption was vibing way more than the Hammerfall one. They link up to Godhunter and Soulbound in subject matter, and lead directly into…

(You, you won’t escape me, I’ll rise from the deep/In this final moment, no words left to say/I can’t let you be when a life fades away/You, you won’t escape me ‘cause I’ll set you free)

(Dark matter falling from the sky/Dancing flames reflecting in your eyes as you watch them burn/Watching all your riches witches burn)

(Remember me not for the mess I’ve made/But who I could have been/Finally I’m going home)

World On Fire, This is a Call, The Reckoning, The Wind That Shapes the Land, and Louder Than Words. Switched the order up a bit so it makes more sense chronologically, because the message ‘sent by forces beyond salvation’ has to get there before the reckoning can begin.

(World on fire with a smoking sun/Stops everything and everyone/Brace yourself for all will pay/Help is on the way)

(This is a call to action/This is a call to arms/All lives for one, together/There are no false alarms)

(I see your face, find peace of mind/Between the madness and the sadness and the fire burning/The end of war, the great divine/We’ll see the day of reckoning)

(Search within/Uncover the will to win/Turn against the tide that washes o'er/Find the strength to fall and rise again/Open up the gates, unleash the force/I am the wind that shapes the land/Old as time and twice as strong/Oceans arise at my command/I alone can carry on)

(We have the force to fight/We have the blinding light/A war is more than heard/Coming in louder than words)

#i am dark matter; your road to ruin #dm playlists #guess who spent two hours on this! again!#as usual!#long post #i'm teaching in the morning and it's one am #oops

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