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jaylver · 8 months

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SILVER SPRINGS — P.JS

synopsis: falling in love and starting a band with a man who you swore to be your soulmate was your first mistake. after your break up, you wrote a song about him, not knowing performing it with him would soon haunt him for a long time.

pairings: guitarist!jay x singer afab!reader

genre: lovers to exes, broken relationship, break up, band au

warning(s): angst, profanities

wc: 1480

a/n: yes this is another jay fic ... guilty. and it's also a fic based off a song ... guilty. dedicated to any fleetwood mac fans because this is based off their song 'silver springs' and also inspired by stevie nicks and lindsey buckingham's relationship, specifically that ONE performance. hope you enjoy this one! please leave a feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

Who said breaking up with your boyfriend who also happened to be part of your band was a great idea? Not you.

You blamed the fame. Something in you had a feeling that blowing up and gaining attention would eventually turn sour, but you didn’t think it would affect your relationship. It got to both you and him.

Jay, your first love and the man who you started the band with, called it quits right before a show.

He was a sweetheart, and he has always had decent manners, but to break up with you before performing was a low blow. Maybe it was an outburst that he could no longer hold in, or he just had an intrusive urge to do so, but whatever it was, it was so unprofessional and not cool.

Obviously, you turned up on stage almost ripping the guitar out of his hand and smashing it into pieces, but you didn't. Instead, your eyes were red and puffy, voice hoarse and stage presence at its all time low, just like you. The drummer of your band, Heeseung, was avoiding the tension actively, whilst Yunjin on the keyboard was casting concerned glaces. Then there was Jake, the other guitarist, glancing in worry between you and Jay.

It didn't take long before fans figured out something was wrong, and their theories were proven correct when the news got leaked out. Just great, wasn't it? Especially when you were at your peak of fame.

"Oh, don't say that she was pretty,"

It was pathetic. Arguing with Jay and breaking down crying one night when he came back to your shared apartment to get his things.

You didn't expect your sudden outburst during then. You admitted that it was you who picked an argument first, but how could you not when he brought up his recent date?

"Did she say that she loved you?" You mocked, noticing the things you've said had angered him equally.

"Fuck off, would you? We're done, alright?"

His words cut deep, unexpected and surprising. You scoffed, turning your head away from him. "I loved you years ago, but have you ever loved me?"

"Don't talk bullshit with me, Y/N. I've always loved you!"

"Then why would you talk to her while we were together?" You choked down a sob, remembering the rumours plastered over the tabloids, ones where he never denied. That was when you began not to love him, losing sparks and devotion.

Jay was silent, jaw clenching and the grip on his boxes tightened. He knew you struck bullseye and he couldn't deny it. He was aware that he's a prick, a scumbag that didn't deserve you, so he'd gladly take all the punches from you, but seeing you cry was making him weak.

“Can you tell me, was it worth it?"

The silence followed, tension filling the air around you. He shook his head, holding onto his boxes and turning around for the door. That was the end, wasn’t it?

“I know I could’ve loved you but you wouldn’t let me,” you said softly, falling onto a chair, needing to have a seat before your feelings overwhelmed you.

Without anything more from him, the door closed, leaving you to yourself in the home you once shared with the love of your life. Now, it was an empty shell reminding you of times you had together, continuously haunting you even as you took a pen and started writing down lyrics into your notebook.

Releasing the song you wrote about Jay was probably the best and worst decision you’ve pulled.

Despite the break up, the state of your band wasn’t affected, instead you two took the professional path and kept it together for the sake of achieving each other’s dreams. It was hard and definitely awkward at the start, but you grew accustomed to everything eventually.

What you didn’t expect was the song blowing up. The fans loved it, they ate it up, taking in every part of the dramatics of your break up. Of course, the label and your bandmates didn’t mind the fame that came along with it, but you could tell Jay was bothered.

It was the night of your first performance after your break up and the song’s success. You mustered the little courage left in you, hoping you wouldn’t crumble whilst singing the song you wrote about him, or literally any song in general. Thankfully, the set list was short, and all you needed to do was sing then leave. Easier said than done.

You heard the screams of fans, felt the flashing of lights, but all you could think of was Jay who stood to your left, setting his electric guitar up. It might've taken you a while to come to an idea of getting back at him, but it was definitely a great one. Singing the song you wrote about him while all he could do was listen, coming on stage and be reminded of you, those could be your best revenge.

The familiar sounds of the guitar began the song slowly, you sang naturally and didn't think much about it. That's when you felt his lingering gaze on you, the same eyes that stared back at you with love once were filled with unspeakable emotions.

As the song continued on, reaching almost the end, the tension between you and him only grew. You turned to face him now, holding tightly onto the microphone stand, pouring out your vulnerability with each word, never breaking eye contact once.

"I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you, give me just a chance!" you sang harder, seeing him strumming his guitar with equal strain.

"You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you," hands reaching out to him, you felt as if you were the only ones there. "Was I such a fool?"

You were professing your love for the last time, knowing he had already moved on, you were just a fool. Anger, pure rage were genuine and raw as it continuously flowed from you.

"You'll never get away, never get away, never get away!"

Every word from you came out like a spell, cursing him with every ounce of you. Your lyrics were placing an eternal curse on him, one that has him never getting away from you, your voice and your pain.

Jay stared back with the same ferocity, his eyes screaming loud, gaze never leaving you for even a second.

Until the last minute of your stage, you only learnt to breathe deeply and stop your stare on your past lover, legs weak and head spiralling. Oh God, you need a whole tub of ice cream once you get home.

Being left alone in your own room backstage after closing the set, you finally had the freedom to collect your emotions and thoughts, still shaking a little. It didn't take long before you heard a knock on the door, expecting Yunjin to come and check up on you, but it wasn't.

It was Jay.

"Hey," he breathed out, seeing your seemingly beaten down state.

"Hi," you couldn't believe he was here, not when you literally sang a song about him to his face earlier.

"I–uh–just wanted to come and tell you that … it was a great performance. You did well,"

"Oh," that totally caught you off guard. "Thank you,"

The awkwardness between you and him made you cringe. It wasn't an everyday occurence to be in a band with your ex and having to see him frequently, especially when he came to compliment you.

"I hate this, Y/N. I don't want you to hate me but I understand if you do. I'm sorry, for the things I've done and said. Just … don't be a stranger,"

"I won't," you said shakily, gulping in anxiety. "I've got too much love for you, it doesn't just dissipate after years. You're always going to be someone to me,"

Jay smiled, releasing a breath of relief. "I love you too, and I wish nothing but happiness for you,"

"For the both of us."

Months passed and the success of the band only grew bigger. You and Jay were on civil terms, but nothing was the same as it was.

Jay might've slowly gotten over you and the break up, but it seemed that you kept haunting him.

Walking down the streets, he saw your face on bilboards for campaigns you've shot for. Going into stores, he heard your voice playing from the speakers. Performing on stage, you were there, under the bright lights, shining and sparkling.

He would never get away from the sound of the woman that loved him. He would never escape you.

Time might've casted a spell on him, but he would never forget you and you would always, always haunt him.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog

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lfghughes · 11 months

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Can you write a second chance romance fic with Trevor using the lyrics “and I am no longer funny because I miss the way you laugh” and “I’ll dream each night if some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose” from Stick Season by Noah Khan?

a/n: i just want to say that stick season is one of my favorite songs to exist and his whole album has a special place in my heart so i love you so so much anon

When the break up first happened even though Trevor felt empty he had managed to distract himself. Hockey season was on, his schedule was busy so it was easy to keep his mind off the fact that the girl he was in love with had broken up with him. His schedule at the time was hectic and he wasn’t willing to really make the efforts needed to maintain a good relationship. Once his schedule slowed down that was when it hit him hard.

The person he wanted to come home to wasn’t here but the memory of her was everywhere around his place. He wondered if there were still memories of him at her place. What she had done with some of the things he had left behind. If she had saved the things in a drawer somewhere like he had with her things. As he laid in bed he thought about everything in the relationship.

Her laughter still rung deeply in his mind. He would do or say about anything just to hear that laugh and when she would laugh at something dumb he said he thought he was the funniest guy in the world. Now he knew he wasn’t funny, not without her laughter encouraging him. Trevor knew some answers he could get from going on social media and seeing what she was up to or if she had a boyfriend now but that was painful.

Instead he let himself think about the person he had, that exact version and how happy they were when things weren’t as chaotic. This was how he chose to see her instead of the person he lost. An idiot, that’s how he felt right now. He had nothing fully planned for his summer and all he knew was he hated this part of himself. There was something missing and he knew it was her. She was his other half and he needed to fix what he had done.

Trevor grabbed his phone from where it laid on the pillow next to him and before he could stop himself he called the number he knew by heart. “Hello?” Her voice rang on the other side of the phone and his heart skipped a beat. “Hey, what are you doing this weekend?” Forward and kind of straight to the point. “Not much…Is everything okay?” Concern etched into her voice. “Me and you, dinner this weekend.” He was willing to do whatever she wanted and he just hoped that the answer would be yes.

“Okay, sure..” A deep sigh of relief fell from Trevors lips the minute he heard her okay. The rest of the phone call they spent it catching up on some things. He did manage to poke around and find out that she was still single, not that he would get his hopes up about that. Then all he had to do later this week was prepare for dinner.

The rest of the week flew by and when dinner with her came around, Trevor had everything she needed. They had decided on eating in and he would cook. This also meant that Trevor had to do a lot of decorating because he still wanted this to be kind of romantic in hopes of getting a second chance. From the look in her eyes when she walked in, that was exactly the message she got. Dinner went smoothly and the laughter that would fall from her lips at certain moments was music to his ears.

The night almost passed by too quickly and now here they were saying goodbye. “So Trevor…What exactly is going on?” She asked and he knew this was the moment he had to just spit out his feelings. “I should have taken us a lot more seriously and I didn’t realize what I had until I no longer had it. I don’t know if it’s something you’d want to try again but if you’d give me that second chance, trust me I wouldn’t take advantage of it.” A small smile grew on her lips as she listened to everything she had wanted to hear for months. “I don’t want to just jump right back in…But I’m willing to slowly work on us and hopefully get to where we were.”

#trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras

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reputationmunson · 1 year

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Fluff request! Eddie calming reader down from a panic attack - initially noticing that something is wrong when they start to get all distant and stuff, subtly taking them somewhere quiet and calm and just really kindly talking them down

(And then maybe a little kiss at the end, at least a big ol hug)

thank you for the request! I'm sorry this took me a few days. I've been in the mood to write but every time I open a new document I just stare at it haha

Breathe | Eddie Munson x reader

summary: Eddie comforts you after you get overwhelmed at one of his shows

content: panic attack, eddie being the best boyfriend, no pronouns, petnames (babe, baby), use of y/n (just once i think), swearing, fluff

word count: [762 words]

The hideout was completely packed tonight. You were super stoked about the crowd for Corroded Coffin, but you were also feeling overwhelmed. At first, you were fine. Big crowds weren’t really your thing, but when Eddie came out on stage, you were one hundred percent focused on him and drowned everything else out.

Now, you have Eddie standing next to you with his arm around your shoulder while he’s talking to a group of people. You’re pressed up next to him with absolutely no space, and while you love being this close to him, you have no other choice because of all the bodies surrounding you and leaving you no choice.

You feel like you’re trapped and the exit is a thousand miles away.

The room begins to grow hotter and louder.

You feel yourself begin to zone out. Your heart is pounding in your chest and your vision is blurry. The sounds surrounding you being to drown out, like you’re in a different world, but you’re stuck in the same spot.

“Isn’t that right, baby?” you hear Eddie say to you but you can’t respond or react. “Baby?” Eddie asks, concerned. He grows worried when he sees the look on your face and the sweat on your forehead.

“Fuck, let’s get you outside, okay?” You give a small nod and close your eyes.

Eddie grabs your hand and plows through the crowd to get you outside into the fresh air. After what feels like hours, you’re finally outside.

You start to sob and you can’t catch your breath.

“Hey, hey, listen to my voice. Deep breaths, okay? In and out, can you do that for me?”

Eddie starts to take deep breaths with you and you feel yourself calm down a little, but you’re still shaken up.

“There ya go, you’re okay. Can I touch you?”

You nod and his hands rest on your shoulders. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him for a hug, but he knows that might make things worse.

Once your breathing is normal and you feel more cooled off, you look at him. “I’m so sorry. I ruined your night and-”

“You didn’t ruin anything, babe. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice sooner. I know big crowds can stress you out sometimes and I should’ve thought about that.”

“I was fine, but then everything hit me all at once and I’m so happy that you guys got a big crowd tonight. I just wish I was able to handle it better and support you.”

“You do support me. Always. Even when there were only two other people in the crowd, you were there. You’re there at band practices and even when I’m just in my room forcing you to listen to whatever shitty lyrics I write, you’re sitting on my bed with the biggest smile on your face.”

“They’re not always shitty lyrics”

Both of you laugh and Steve walks outside, trying to find you.

“Oh, here you are. I’ve been looking for you two. Everything alright?” Steve notices you look like you’ve been crying.

“Yeah, we’re alright. Steve, would you be a dear and get my number one fan some water?” Eddie requests and Steve heads back inside.

“Just your number one fan? I'm no groupie, rockstar.”

“Number one fan, love of my life. Same thing. And you are so a groupie. But only for me, yeah?”

“Yeah” you agree. “Hug?” you hold your arms out and he can’t wait another second.

You hold each other and you realize you’d go through just about anything to be able to hug him.

“Feeling better?” He asks and you hum as a yes.

“Think I might need a kiss, though”

Eddie chuckles and captures you in a kiss. The kiss is sweet and slow and everything you need.

“I love you” You say as soon as you break apart.

“I love you, more. You know who I don’t love? Harrington. I mean how hard is it to get a glass of water”

You laugh and wrap yourself around him again. “Maybe we can just get some water at home?” you suggest.

“Anything for my one and only groupie” he jokes.

You groan and he leads you to his van, stopping to kiss you every few seconds.

“Guys! y/n I have your water!” you hear Steve shout, making the two of you giggle

“Hurry, before he sees us”

Eddie races you to his van, but obviously lets you win despite how competitive he is. He’d lose every time if it meant making you smile.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic

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thenatvral · 10 months

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KIP BERMAN OF THE NATVRAL

You are a great storyteller; your lyrics and music are a perfect medium for conveying those tales. Is there a line between fiction and non-fiction, autobiography, and off-limits topics that you adhere to when conceptualising and writing?

Thank you, that’s really cool of you to say. Most everything I write comes from my life, though I’m not sure what that really means – as it’s not just my experiences, but people I’ve known and tried to know a bit better by looking out their eyes.

One thing I’ve noticed with my solo music is that sometimes I come at an idea I’ve written about a while back, but it seems the model has shifted their pose, or the light has changed. Some of my new songs “check in” on older songs – “Carolina” is one such song. Its’ subject is, more or less, the same as “The Tenure Itch.” That older song was fixated on the more prurient elements, the dynamics of power and sex. If it seemed a bit judgemental, it’s not exactly covering its eyes or averting it’s gaze either. It’s a bit of a “peeping tom” of a tune, looking through other people’s windows. But in “Carolina” I want to know “what happens after? Are you alright? Am I?” Maybe its concern still isn’t entirely noble, and that’s fine. But something has changed with what I’m after. Same goes with “Stephanie Don’t Live Here Anymore.” It could be another telling of “A Teenager in Love” – an old PAINS song. But where that one romanticized this uncompromising and ultimately destructive devotion to ideals and absolutes, “Stephanie…” is more cautionary. It’s thinking about my place – and culpability - in all that mess. It’s less an anthem (or elegy) for doomed youth and more a “hey kids, be careful.”

It doesn’t seem like anything needs to be off limits, but I do change some names to avert angry ghosts and awkward texts.

Every artist has their own methodology and approach when conceiving a tune, converting it from a concept and turning it into a tangible form. Can you talk us through your approach?

I have no idea starting out – or at least, I’ve never been able to write a song with intention “about” something. I do admire people like Billy Bragg, Pete Seeger, Joan Baez, or anyone that can. Me, I just pick up my guitar and sing while I strum. If it’s memorable, I’ll remember it. If I remember it after a while I’ll start giving it form, writing it down and building it out. But if I’ve forgotten it, I trust it’s forgettable.

Your latest release was one born out of an all too familiar time of lockdown and the global pandemic. This in its own right must have been a powerful and unfolding story to immerse yourself in and be stimulated creatively in ways that up until that time would have seemed improbable and unimaginable?

You know, it’s a hard time to talk about. Not because it was such a tragedy that it couldn’t even be spoken of. Nor because it was somehow “not so bad” or trivial—it certainly wasn’t. But it’s almost impossible to talk about those times ‘cuz we were all there. It’s like working in a family business, then asking your brother or mother “how was work?” No one wants to go there because everybody was there. And besides, this record isn’t about that time, it just came out of that time.

But the abrupt shift in the rhythms of how I was living opened me up. All day I was just trying to sustain a kind of mundane normalcy for my two kids who had just turned 4 years old and 18 months when it all started. It was whatever the opposite of what people think “ideal artistic circumstances” might be, certainly not the stuff of writers’ retreats or communing with babbling brooks or whatever. And I was far from remarkable in any of this, as my partner was working from home so tremendously hard – seemingly around the clock and still finding time to be with us in important ways. And of course it wasn’t just us, everyone out there was doing all they could just to get to the next day, intact- many without the privilege of taking shelter. Without school, their friends, or even playgrounds, I just did my best to make sure my children had routines, washed their hands, and had someone to use as a makeshift jungle gym (me).

When they went to bed at night I was exhausted – mentally especially, as there seemed no end in sight. I bet they were too. Every day was going to be like the one before. But in the moments when I could go to the basement and play my guitar a bit, I was doing a lot of cover songs, and singing everything from Margo Guryan and The Stones to Third Eye Blind and Galaxie 500. Some songs came naturally enough, others surprised me – but I felt I could try all sorts of things. And in my own music I was writing—and there were loads of songs that never made it on the record – it felt like the feelings and the desires weren’t so confined to (my own) expectation.

In that earlier question you asked about how I would take “something I want to say” and put it in a song-- it’s pretty much opposite. I don’t know what I want to say. I “say stuff,” and the meaning only comes to me when I listen back to what I’ve said. I have to interpret my own music, and sometimes even my interpretations change. There’s some part of me that can only come out when there’s an absence of intention. If I watch my own pot, I never boil.

Recorded during the height of the pandemic, it is inevitable that those times and feelings would be impregnated on the album. Particularly as it was a global unknown for so many which for most involved a lot of soul searching, isolation, and inner exploration. Now on the other side of such times, what is your take on the music you made and its relation to then, now, and the future?

I’m surprised by it, listening to it now. How did I make a record like this? I could go back and listen to what I was doing just a few years before with PAINS— and not just the sounds or the instruments, but my voice. Why does it sound like this now? Why do I lean into it when I used to try to hide it, obscure it? Why do I record mostly live and loose, when I used to be meticulous in search of some ideal? It wasn’t the pandemic or lockdown - this was happening before. No one wants to hear some cliché about “when I became a parent everything changed, man.” That’s a lot of bull. But I do think it casts your identity in this entirely different perspective – not the hackneyed “mature, gaining perspective on life, man” singer-songwriter BS. It’s more like you become unafraid of yourself because now all your worries are for other people. It’s liberating, sort of.

Was there a desire to demarcate where Tethers ended and Summer of No Light began so as to keep them as separate entities or is the new album in your mind simply a continuation?

I was fortunate in that I wrote Summer of No Light before Tethers came out. I had recorded Tethers in 2019 and was set to release it in Spring 2020, but because of, you know… the record was shelved for well over a year. So I wrote these new songs with no sense of expectation or even dialog with how people may have received Tethers.

Some artists really get off on “answering their critics” or “telling the haters where to go,” and all that. But I think it’s a dangerous thing to be in dialog with anything other than your own heart, your own muse. Rarely does anyone get the chance of creating in a vacuum – but between the isolation of lockdown and the first record not being released, I was able to do just that.

Drawing parallels between this time and that of the climate crisis of 1816. Where do those lines intersect and where do they diverge in terms of how you see the past and the present and how those thoughts are reflected in Summer of No Light?

I know I may look a bit worse for wear, but I wasn’t actually alive for the one in 1816.

But I did find the story of Mary Godwin (later Shelley), her (then married to another) lover Percy Shelley, Lord Byron, and his lover (Mary’s half-sister) Claire Clairmont as debauched, barely-adults passing the time in a time of crisis by getting fucked up and fucking, while finding partial escape in writing to be… relatable— and also, not.

When I had just finished school, I was riding out a summer at a crumbling rental house in Portland, Oregon with some dubious characters, including one that – 20 years later – I’m now married to. For the record, she wasn’t all that dubious, then or now. I was working/napping in a library by day. The nights went on ’til dawn, but usually ended with being the first customers at the local bagel shop, possessing a now-unbelievable belief that no one “could tell” we’d been up all night. Unlike 1816, literary works of the stature of Frankenstein were not composed. I wrote a lot of songs that rhymed “night” with “alright.” More the stuff of Dracula, really. I was playing guitar in a band with my best friend that sounded like a not-so-good version of The Strokes. The less said about this time, the better. “Summer of Hell” might fill you in on the details. I do love the Stokes, though.

In 2020 I was taking shelter - and yes, I’m aware of the privilege to take shelter- as Mary did - and peering out the window at these lurking specters: covid, climate change, and the social upheaval happening all around as a suddenly vulnerable capitalism sputtered to a halt (though that silver lining was short-lived). And what was I even doing? Just trying to keep the ordinary things feel ordinary for my family and writing songs in my basement. They sounded less like The Strokes this time.

I still don’t know what any of it means. I felt pulled between the necessity of the present and a desire for anything else. I don’t think I was unique in that. On Earth, no one was having much fun. So, there I was, mourning the recent past and imagining an older one that offered some solace. And if I conflated other ‘summers of no light’ with the one of literary legend - it all made the present seem a bit more normal. We’d done this before, we’ll do it again- no doubt.

Having fronted Pains of Being Pure at Heart and most recently as a solo artist, how did your time with your precious outfits inform and shape your solo work and satisfy the creative urge you were seeking from it?

With PAINS there seemed to be too much need to have “stuff” to play music – pedal boards, certain amps—even a full group of 5 people. As The Natvral, I wanted to make music that only needed the song – just my voice and a guitar. Yeah, I’ll play with a band sometimes, and that’s a cool way to interpret the songs. But really, I can say “yes” to anything. I don’t want to poison this music with “stuff,” I just want to sing you a song, and as long as I have air in my lungs I can do that.

As the world is in an endless state of flux and in navigating all of life’s ever-evolving challenges, what has been the one constant or guiding principle that you have applied to your music and career?

“The best bands are just the best ideas.”

Having yourself been influenced by countless artists, and also having released a hefty body of work over the years, does your attention occasionally turn to thinking about how is it that you have influenced others and how your music has come to inspire fellow musicians and upcoming artists?

I’ll start with my old band - every once in a while, I see videos of kids in Indonesia, The Philippines – and even Japan either covering old PAINS songs or playing music that is part of the lineage of what we did. There’s a band called The Bunbury from Yogyakarta, Indonesia that’s great! Another called Morningwhim in Japan that’s cool too. It’s extremely heartening to think about a bunch of Americans like us in the 00’s and 10’s being inspired by bands mostly from the UK in the 80s or 90s and then that sound becoming most entrenched half-way around the world as its own distinct thing in this decade. There’s real community, a scene of DIY kids doing what they love just cuz. It feels so familiar, so relatable. Even though my bandmates in PAINS came from different backgrounds – I think too often there were people on the outside that saw the kind of music we loved as something that was only for “certain” kinds of people. It relieves me to see kids that have totally different experiences, language, culture and religion – can use jangly, noisy music to express something vital to them.

As for my new music, The Natvral? Maybe I can convince people to spend less on boutique guitar pedals and hand-wired amps, and more time just trying to make something cool out of what you already have? And you already have yourself. But it’s too early to think about that.

Performing live must surely be one of the most enjoyable moments of any release or tour and the last time Musicology had the pleasure of catching you live was at Rough Trade London during an in-store performance. Can you share with us a highly memorable gig you have played throughout your career and what made it so special?

With my old group, PAINS, I wrote the songs in my bedroom, and I simply wanted to impress Peggy, Alex, and Kurt and maybe play a show at Cake Shop with Crystal Stilts, My Teenage Stride, or Pants Yell– people we thought were cool. But when our first record came out, there started to be this feeling at the shows that went beyond how it felt playing to our 12 friends at Cake Shop.

Our show at Chorlton Irish Center in Manchester was one such gig, as was Primavera Sound in 2009 – our first festival and first time in Spain, a country that became so special to us and seemed to really embrace what we were about. But as the years passed, the more I tried to make our performances “good” the less that uncorrupted spirit happened. We could barely play when we started, but for some reason no one really noticed. When we eventually tried to do things like “tune” and “know what songs came next in the set,” it felt like we had made some inadvertent transgression against the shambolic gods of indiepop. It was almost as if we engendered some cosmic “tsk tsk” from Stephen Pastel, Comet Gain, or Amelia Fletcher.

That show you saw at Rough Trade, where there was no mic and just a borrowed acoustic, that’s the kind of thing that feels right to me. I just want people to hear the songs, and I don’t want anything material to get in the way.

Lastly, what does music give you that nothing else does?

When I play music I feel connected to myself and – sometimes - something beyond myself. Not aggrandized or special, mind you. But I feel this connection to something essential and enduring in what it means to be a person. Anywhere on earth, however far you want to go back - there was always someone like me singing a song of love, of loss, desire, frustration, or whimsical nonsense. They were bored, perhaps. And they could have been doing something more practical, sure. Maybe their parents said they ought to go to Hammurabi’s Coding Camp, or Solon the Lawgiver’s Law School. But for whatever reason, they didn’t. Their friends or family might have laughed or scoffed - but also, maybe asked to hear that one again. Every time that ever was a time is now mostly forgotten— and my time will be forgotten too. But it still happened. And, it meant something. Playing music means something. It is a gesture against the void.

Plus, it’s pretty fun

#the natvral #kip berman #dirty bingo records #musicology #summer of no light

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daveinediting · 2 years

Photo

Facebook was kind enough to remind me of a song Linzy wrote when she was, oh... well, it was 2011 and it the second song she wrote and she was still in jr. high.

A long, long time ago.

She had already whipped out an original song once, maybe six months before. My plan was to take her through the process of writing a song without inspiration. Writing a song because you're choosing to write a song.

My wife was not a huge fan of this idea. She felt it was an awful lot of pressure since the effort would end in a live coffee house performance that was about a week away.

Me, I thought it was a perfect teaching opportunity because I'm a professional creative. It doesn't matter if I'm feeling it. I get paid to create when the job hits.

So we settled on a compromise. Linzy had a cover of one of her favorite songs ready to perform. If her second original didn't pan out for any reason, she'd perform the cover. No sweat. And, frankly, a no lose proposition.

I don't remember how the timing worked out but I'm sure we didn't do it all on the day of the performance. I know we were still working on it the day of the performance... but I'm guessing that at the very least we handled the song in two sessions, two days. The first day focused on lyrics.

So.

What's the song about?

Which immediately brought us to Step One: it doesn't matter.

Huh?

That's right. Because when you don't already know what the song's about, you don't worry. What the song's about. Instead, you focus on conjuring words and lines and ideas. In today's terms, you concern yourself with generating content. But you don't sweat how that content hangs together yet.

At the time we sat down to tackle the words, Linzy had in her possession a poem a friend of hers had written. It was a little on the dark side... but it was as good a starting point as any. Bringing us to Step Two: grab a piece of paper and a pen or pencil, sit down with the poem, and write down any impression that comes to you while you’re reading. Any impression. Nothing held back. Including questions begged by what you’re reading. Including images that are evoked. Including individual words. Phrases. Fragments.

Anything.

The point's to generate content. And then try to make some kind of sense with that content.

Once whatever time we settled on was up, we shared our work with each other. And whatever came to mind from that presentation... well, we wrote those reactions down, too. Questions. Images. Words. Phrases. Fragments.

Anything.

Okay.

So now we've got a bunch of random content minus the original poem from where we started. Bringing us to Step Three: underline, highlight, copy down, or tear out anything that speaks to you. A word. A phrase. A fragment. An image. A question.

Anything.

Once you have that...

It's time to start.

Okay so now what's the song about?

Back to Step One.

It doesn't.

Matter.

Which brings us to Step Four: from the page of favorites you just created, what literally jumps out at you?

Fortunately, something had already jumped out. A few things, really. Which is how the verses got underway.

Now, I don't wanna give the impression these were finished verses. The idea was to create the scaffolding for a song. An outline with some of the details filled in.

With me?

So creating these verses was an exercise of grabbing elements that already spoke loudly... and putting them together in a way that made sense.

Ish.

Remember. It's just scaffolding.

Linzy did ask me what the song was gonna be about... and I told her we didn't really have to know the answer to that until we were halfway through the song.

So we continued fashioning our favorite fragments together, discovering how most of it reflected self-doubt. With that in mind, then, I suggested contrasting the verses, contrasting that self-doubt, with fragments stitched together in the chorus that reflected self-confidence.

Which is how we discovered what the song was about.

Which brings us to Step 4: Short Cuts. Or, rather, one huuuuuuuge and helpful shortcut. Which was to take the statements of self-doubt in the initial verses and flip them to statements of confidence, basically repurposing what was already written.

It was barely a re-write, it took so little effort to accomplish.

So now.

Breathed into existence was the scaffolding of Linzy's next song lyrics with some of the details filled in.

As I said before, I'm not sure how the timing worked. At this point, I'm thinking we had a session for scaffolding. Then a session for music. Then, on the day of the live performance, I think it was all polishing, memorizing, and rehearsing.

By the end of our first session, if you haven't guessed already, the heavy lifting was already done. This song was conjured from thin air and without intention. Now, it was about something. It had a reason for being even if there was no reason other than wanting to write something.

So.

By the next session, when it was time to write the music, the music needing to be written already had a purpose. It needed, in some way, to illustrate the scaffolding of lyrics. To build on the vibe of those lyrics. And believe me. That's much easier to do than simply conjuring music from thin air.

And the words? The ones that were temp'd in?

Those words and phrases and lines changed and flexed to meet whatever the music was doing. So, in a way, the words informed the music. The music, though, also informed the words.

Most importantly, this whole creative endeavor had gained critical mass. It had velocity. It was going somewhere you could see.

And that's the point of this kind of process.

The day of the performance was still a bit of juggling all the pieces of the song. Fitting them together. Which they eventually did a little before 230 that afternoon. Then it’s practicing like crazy until 430. Jump into the shower. Get dressed. Hamburger for dinner (no cheese). At 530 we jump in the car and she works on vocals some more until we get to the gig.

Now it's 5:50ish.

Kimmer gets there a little after 615, bringing Linzy's guitar with her, so Linzy practices in the van some more, tweaking and memorizing, tweaking and memorizing, until shortly before 7.

Of course of course of course by the time she takes the stage, yeah.

She's ready.

Even though the song.

Doesn’t.

Even.

Have.

A title.

So there it is. It is possible to create without being in The Zone. The trick is to get yourself there by creating enough mass and giving the process enough momentum so that you quickly transition from creator... to editor. From writing to tweaking. From composing to re-arranging, remixing, and finessing.

And yes. Of course it would’ve been great to have more time to work on that song. But in the real world, you work with the time you have. Not what you wish you had.

In the end, the lesson I was trying to get across other than not relying on being in the Zone is this:

Creating is hard. But if you don’t worry so much about what you’re pulling from your mind and more about getting a lot out of it as quickly as possible so you can start playing with the pieces, well...

It’s can be a much less intimidating and much more rewarding process.

☺️

#creative process #strategic process #black box #tuned mind #creativity #quantity #quality #molding #crafting #editing #tweaking #fixing #finessing

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long!

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron??

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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jikook-yoonmin-trash · 3 years

Text

YOONGI X READER (DIRTY IMAGINE)

Rating: E for Explicit

No one asked for this but I'll deliver anyways. I know I'm not consistent but I'm trying to be committed to something to stay sane. Lets go.

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Yoongi had been locked in his studio all week. Being the perfectionist that he was, you knew it would take a miracle to get him out of there. He was working on a new Hip Hop piece with some foreign artist and it stirred something inside, deep and longing. You knew he was passionate and you knew how much he wanted to get this done.

But seeing him so focused and concentrated at the small window of time you visited stirred something in you, deep and longing. Your relationship with him hadn't always been physical, he sought after comfort and companionship, but you'd be lying if you said he didn't turn you on.

Especially on days where he wear shirts that dipped to low, or days where he came straight from his schedule with Bangtan- fully decked out from head to toe with perfect hair and accessories for days.

Like right now for instance.

You weren't sure who was sitting in front of you; Min Yoongi, Suga or Agust D. Whomever it was, you were ready to please.

"Got you some coffee and snack."

Yoongi took a break from writing to look up at you with a little smile. Cute. His hair was pushed back and he looked so devastatingly handsome that for a second you forgot that he was yours, and you forgot to breathe. You couldn't help but notice the thick silver rings on his fingers as he reached for the coffee. You've always had a thing for his hands.

"Thank you babe, wanna sit for a while?" Yoongi asked, looking up at you from mid sip.

With his legs sprawled out like that, it seemed like an invitation- open and inviting. The material of his pants were thick but you could make out the outline of his legs just fine. Perfect legs. Perfect seat.

Feeling bold, you rushed forward and found yourself sitting between his legs. His hands were immediately around you with the gentle sound of his laughter.

"You did say sit." You teased, leaning into his warm chest.

"I did."

Yoongi hummed and swiveled the chair to face his computer. With the coffee set aside and his hands occasionally clicking the keys on his laptop, you both fell into a comfortable silence. Yoongi's head nuzzled against your neck as he furiously wrote down lyrics. All you were concerned about was his hands. He had beautiful hands.

As time progressed, you found the urge to be fondled or even feel him move against you was increasing. Yoongi knew all your tricks. If you tried grinding against him that would only warrant a scolding or worst, him banning any kind of sexual activity until next week. He'd do it, you knew him well enough to not cross him. Especially because he's so busy.

"Yoongi?"

"Mmm." He hummed, kissing your neck.

"You look cute today."

"Mmm, Namjoon called me Daddy. He thought you would like it."

"Namjoon's not wrong."

One of his hand wrapped around you, while the other worked with a pen and paper. He rubbed small circles into your stomach and hummed appreciatively.

"What did you do today beautiful?" His deep voice was calming, you were stuck between wanting to bask in his touches or fall asleep to whatever hypnotic trance he had you in.

"Work was good as usual. I also got my paper done, I'm really proud of it."

"Good girl. You've worked so hard."

You received another kiss on the neck. Before you could respond, his hand dipped under your shirt (his shirt) and cupped both of your breasts in his hands. His ringed thumb swiped over your nipple leaving a cool shocking sensation behind.

"You're not wearing a bra?" His tone was teasing. Had you not seen the small smile tugging on his lips you would think he was upset.

"Hate wearing those."

"Mmm. Anything else I should know." He asked, still fondling your breasts.

"Perhaps a couple things."

"Oh yeah, like what."

You were about to tease him, but the tugging and pinching of your nipple was enough to sedate your urge to toy with Yoongi. It felt really good, especially since you were already worked up earlier.

"Like what baby?"

He was now pressing kisses up your neck with little bites. The pen and paper was abandoned and his now free hand took refuge in the inside of your thigh, prying your legs open.

"Like, I think you should use your hands to make me cum."

He laughed, his chest vibrating against your back.

"Mmm, figured as much. You just sat right on my lap with no hesitation." You were squirming under his touch. "Take off your pants baby. I'll make you cum right here."

Without question, those pants along with your panty were flying to the other side of the room and Yoongi was spreading your legs until they hooked on the handle of either sides of the chair. From his angle, he could see your entire pussy spread out. He could see how wet you were from just a simple touch.

"Dirty."

He sucked a finger and circled it around your clenching core, feeling the heat of your wetness. His finger was teasing you in small strokes and he purposely flicked your clit.

Your body laid flush against his, lifeless even with your head lolled off to the side as he slowly rubbed circles around your clit, missing it on purpose. Yoongi was a nasty tease, he loved drawing out your orgasm and then letting it hit you in waves when you'd least expect it.

"Did you miss me this much? Had to storm into my workplace and demand that I make you cum with my hands."

His free hand was busy rolling your nipple between his thumb and index, tugging whenever he felt like it.

"Not my fault you look so good." You hummed.

"Wanna taste you, let me taste you please."

"Yeaah. Please Yoongi."

In seconds you found yourself being thrown on the desk in front of you. Your legs were splayed out with your hands resting on either side of your body for support. Yoongi ducked his head, laid close to your inner thigh and gazed up at you.

There was a glint of mischievousness sparkling in his dark gaze. He pushed you back hard, your back knocking into the monitor, your hand was busy smashing into the keyboard to find purchase.

"Yoongi!" You hissed, "Your fucking computer is behind me."

His tongue found its way on the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to the new heart beat centered in your hot dripping pussy.

"I will crush your head if you keep teasing me." You threatened. Yoongi had the nerve to laugh, as if he didn't believe you.

"An honorable death for an honorable man."

He finally gave in, and sucked lightly around your clit. His tongue flicking softly at the sensitive spot. You were too busy moaning and heaving, so when he inserted a finger, followed by another you found it extremely taxing to hold back your screams. They were loud and needy. And Yoongi was tending to them.

The thing about Yoongi is that, he knew how to use his fingers and he was an expert with his mouth. Every time he angled his fingers upwards to rub at area that made you see stars, he also added pressure to his tongue. He was sucking and licking your orgasm closer while he finger fucked you. The noises were loud and sinful. The room was heated with wet squelches each time his finger thrust into you.

"Uuuuhgh, Just like that Yoongi. Fuuuuuuuck mee!"

Unable to control the intensity of the feeling, you grabbed onto his hair and pressed him closer- possibly suffocating him in the process. Your hips were grinding circles into his face, finding it easier to chase your own orgasm this way.

"Yeaah!"

"Yeaaaaah!"

"Fuuuuuck Yooongi Mmmmmhhh!"

Your leg wrapped around his neck and pulled him in, locking his head in place as your orgasm hit. It was so intense, your ears were ringing and eyes rolled back as the endorphins wore off. Yoongi was still working his tongue, slowly, sending light shockwaves through your core.

"Baby, I love you and your pussy but please let go."

"No Yoongi, not when you make me cum like that. I feel like I'm floating."

"Oh yeah, I feel like I'm drowning in you."

Reluctantly, you let go. Yoongi's face was glossy with your arousal but he hadn't made any attempts to clean it, only smiling at you in return.

You heard the familiar sound of his belt being unbuckled and the zipper running down. His cock was standing upright, shining with his own arousal. Yoongi looked spent leaning back in his chair. He looked like he owned you and everyone else in this building with his cocky smile and the wicked look in his eye.

"Come sit on my cock baby. Lets finish this song together." He smirked.

And just like that, his cock was nestled into your warm sensitive pussy as he worked on lyrics to his new song. This was going to be a long night.

"You know the rules baby, don't move and don't touch your pussy. If you want something you ask me. Okay baby."

"Yes Yoongi."

"Good girl. This is going to take a while."

#min yoongi #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #bts fic #smut #grapefruit #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smit #bts smut #bts fanfic #i'm not really confident in this piece but lmk if it was okay #jyvadmin

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Jason//you’re all my birthday wishes rolled into one

Request: Can I request a Jason blossom where he gets jealous of the reader spend time with Cheryl it's because she and Cheryl are planning his birthday surprise

hey! i hope you like this!! i was a bit stuck at first, but thanks to @statticscribbles we managed to figure it out!

Something’s not right.

Jason can feel it in his bones, something is missing and it’s throwing him off everything. He’s lost every game for the past three weeks, he’s scored way below average on every test, and he just feels an aching sense of loss. Like when you go from having your phone in your back pocket all the time, to suddenly leaving it at home one day and you just know that it’s gone and that nothing will be right until you get it back.

Yeah, that’s how he feels. But his phone is in his bag, like it always is during a game. No, it’s you. You’re the reason he feels like this, because you’re not where you usually are. Normally he doesn’t even have to look for you, you’re always sat in the same seat cheering him on, and usually he can hear you before he see’s you.

But tonight he can’t, and it feels like the hole that you’ve left behind when you’re not there, has only grown bigger over the weeks.

Usually he’s used to you being right there, always beside him with a bright smile and a sarcastic comment. You make him laugh when the weight of being a Blossom get’s too much, and he always replies the same thing, that he could make you a Blossom with just one question, but you never get the hint and he always get’s the same reply, ‘i don’t think your future wife would appreciate that.’

And he looks at you, as you usually get distracted by something else, and he longs to be able to tell you how he really feels. How when you’re stood beside him, he feels like he can do anything. That he’s not good at football because it’s in his genes, it’s because he knows you’re close and cheering him on.

It’s something he’s felt ever since he was young, even when he didn’t know what it was that he was feeling. He just knew that if you were off sick, he would feel sick. And that if he asked to hang out and you were already busy with your family, he would mope around the house until he was able to see you again. He insisted on having you come to all of his birthday parties, even when you were on holiday, he would wait, much to the dismay of Cheryl, and then the two of them would have their birthday party a week later, just so you could be there.

But then he looks to the side of the pitch, and he notices Cheryl watching the time on the board. She bites her lip as it slowly counts to the end of the game, and when the whistle is finally blown, she practically sprints back to the school, leaving Jason puzzled and sweaty.

It seems like the only Blossom you want to hang out with recently, is her. The two of you have been inseparable, and he starts to see why people get so annoyed when he hangs out with you if that’s how the two of you act together.

Whenever he walks into a room, you and Cheryl freeze and go silent. He hears the hushed phone calls and see’s all the sneaking about, and thinks that maybe you’ve had enough of him and now prefers her.

He doesn’t blame you, she’s confident and funny and doesn’t take no for an answer, compared to him, she’s a lion and he’s a mouse. He’s confident, but not in the right places and it’s understandable that you would eventually realize who the better Blossom is. But it doesn’t sting any less, and it doesn’t stop him from wanting to cry every time he see’s the two of you together, always sneaking off to do something and coming up with the worst excuses when he questions either of you.

He sighs and re-adjusts the bag on his shoulder. All of his friends have now disappeared, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen the entire team move quicker while getting changed. They were practically sprinting out of the day as soon as Jason came out of the showers.

So now he’s moping, with slightly soggy hair and a permanent frown. He lost the final game of the season and now he’ll have to go home and listen to his mom whine at him for something she’ll decide when she see’s him.

His head hangs low as he shuffles down the dark corridor and he wonders what you’re doing. He tries to think back to the last time you had an actual conversation, and whether or not he said something that could have upset you. But he can’t think of any reason why you’d be ignoring him, and how in a weeks time he’s going to be eighteen and he’ll be celebrating with everyone but who he truly wants.

He thought his tenth birthday sucked, it was the year you got chicken pox and became banned from anywhere that wasn’t your house. He remembers looking around at all of his friends, and even then he knew that something wasn’t right because you weren’t there.

Now, almost eight years later he feels the same, only this time he knows what he’s feeling. He loves you, he’s so in love with you that when you’re not around he feels like half of him is gone. He doesn’t know how to function without you, you make him feel safe and loved, just by standing beside him.

“Hey!” Archie shouts causing him to stop and turn around. “Coach wants to talk to you in the gym.” He adds before walking in the opposite direction. Jason frowns and then sighs heavily before dragging his feet back up the corridor and towards the gym.

The wooden doors open with a loud creak, and he huffs, knowing that he is no doubt going to be shouted at. Why can’t he just go home and cry in silence like he normally does when he’s stressed?

“Surprise!” His eyes widen at the sudden noise and he looks up and locks eyes with you, grinning and holding a party popper with too much enthusiasm. He then looks behind you, and notices everyone else. All his friends, his family, even some people that he has no idea who they are, they’re all stood grinning at him.

Cheryl stands beside him and wraps an arm around his shoulder, while you shove a party hat on his head.

“Happy birthday JJ.” She says and squeezes him. Music plays through the speakers and Jason smiles at the opening lyrics of his favourite song. You smile up at him, and then wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug and he lets out a breath he feels like he’s been holding for the last three weeks.

“Happy birthday!” You grin and motion to the decorated gym. It’s covered in balloons and banners and pretty lights. There’s a football theme throughout, even down the cake that has clearly been decorated by you and Cheryl seeing as though it’s wonky and has some of the icing missing from the back.

Tears sting in his eyes and you look at him concerned.

“Is it too much? I’m so sorry, it’s just we wanted it to be really special because it’s a big birthday but I knew we should have just done it somewhere a little smaller but Cheryl insisted the gym becaus-” You’re cut off by his lips on your and your eyes widen as his hands cup your cheeks.

You can hear gasps and cheers from behind you and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, which is then quickly taken over by the need to kiss him back. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you and the cheers get louder, however, you can’t hear them. The only thing you can hear is your own heartbeat.

“I thought you preferred Cheryl over me.” He laughs once he pulls away, his voice barely above a whisper and you giggle quietly.

“Never, you’re my favourite.” You reply.

“Understandable.” He shrugs and Cheryl rolls her eyes at him. “But you’d been hanging around with her so much that it just felt like you’d forgotten I existed and I didn’t know what to do without you, which I know sounds really stupid because now I know that you were planning all of this and it’s incredible, thank you.” He rambles and presses another kiss to your lips. “This is the best birthday ever.” He whispers in your ear and you feel your cheeks heat up as a shy smile pulls at your lips.

“As happy as I am for you both, seeing as though I have been waiting ten years for this to happen.” Cheryl motions between the two of you. “But this cost a lot of money and a lot of time, so if we could get to the partying now and then you can sort out whatever this is later on, that would be great.”

You and Jason look at each other and roll your eyes, but the matching smiles on your faces prove that neither of you care about the party anymore, the only thing that matters is that you’re by his side again, but this time there’s no small gap between you where the line between friends and something more sits, it’s been crossed and held tightly in your intertwined fingers.

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

All The Stops

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Could i request a Creeper fic? Like you're sick and he is taking care of you. Neti pot and secret family soup recipes and all lol.

Warnings: language, Creeper being Extra but we love him for it

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I love Creeper so much. I love writing for the sappy sweet side of him, too. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

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You’d told him not to worry, to stay away so you didn’t end up getting him sick too. Whatever it was that you had left you feeling like you got hit by a semi. Your whole body ached, and you could hardly breathe out of your nose. What had started off as a cold you thought you could just ignore and brush off, very quickly turned you into a zombie.

You were caught between trying to down-play it so he wouldn’t worry, and over-selling it so he would leave you alone and not end up getting sick himself. You should have known better, though. He was far too clingy and hell-bent on taking care of you to stay away. It was sweet, and you appreciated it, but you didn’t want both of you to end up feeling like death warmed over.

When you heard the knock at the door, you knew exactly who it was. You let out a long sigh as you forced yourself up off the couch. You folded your arms over your chest as you shuffled to your front door. When you opened the door, you came face-to-face with Creeper. His eyes were full of concern as he stood on your front steps, large cardboard box in his arms.

“You didn’t tell me you were this sick,” he said as he walked inside.

You shut the door behind him as you replied, “Because I knew you’d do…all of whatever this is.”

He made his way to your kitchen, setting the box down on your counter. Turning back around to face you, he took a moment to really look at you. His lips turned down into a frown as he looked at you bundled up in his sweatshirt with the hood flipped up, toes curling against the cold floor. He stepped toward you, gently resting his hand against your forehead.

“You should’ve called,” he pulled you into a hug.

As much as you didn’t want to be touched, you had to admit that it was nice to feel his strong arms wrapped tight around you. you managed a small smile as you leaned into his chest, “Didn’t have to, you still showed up,” you gestured towards the box on the counter, “What’s all that?”

He let go of you to walk back over to everything that he had brought in, “Your cure.”

You chuckled as you walked and sat across the counter from him. You rested your chin in your hands as you watched him unpack everything that he’d brought over. His focus was evident on his face as he set everything out—brows furrowing in concentration.

“You really don’t have to do all of this, Neron,” you told him with a slight shake of your head.

“Of course I do,” he looked almost offended, “You’re sick. I can’t just let you suffer alone.”

You smiled, not wanting to argue the point any further. Clearly, there would be no changing his mind. You amused yourself by looking over all the different spices that he had with him. While you did that, he started to root around your kitchen and pull some things together.

“Anything I can do?” you asked.

“Go lay down and rest,” he walked around to your side of the counter, “I’ll carry you to bed.”

You laughed, which in turn made you cough, “Stop, Neron, I can walk myself to bed.”

He shook his head as he scooped you up in his arm, “I got you, baby.”

You didn’t have the strength to fight him on it, so you let yourself get whisked away. It was an incredibly short walk to your room but you still let yourself lean into him.

He laid you down on the bed and pulled the blanket up over you. There was a small smile on his face as he caressed your cheek, gently pushing a stray lock of hair out of your face, “Try and get some sleep. It’ll be a while until everything is ready anyway,” he kissed the top of your head.

“Everything? What’s everything?” you smiled up at him.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Get some rest. I love you.”

Before you could ask any more questions, he turned and made his way towards the bedroom door. You listened intently for a few minutes to try and figure out what he was doing, but it didn’t take long for the comfort and warmth of the blankets to put you to the sleep.

You had no idea how long you had been asleep for, but when you woke up you heard the muffled sound of music coming from the far end of the house. A tiny groan slipped past your lips as you sat upright and forced your body to stretch. You swung your legs off the bed and stood up, stretching once more before opening the bedroom door and heading towards the kitchen.

The music got louder as you got closer to the kitchen. And, for the first time in a few days, you would actually smell what was being cooked. You had no idea what he was making, but it smelled great so you weren’t worried. He didn’t hear the quiet pattering of your feet over his music, so you were able to sneak in and find your seat at the counter without him noticing you. You watched him bobbing his head and mumbling along with the lyrics of the song that was on. Despite your exhaustion you smiled. He seemed so at-home.

“How’s it comin’?” you asked.

He spun around, ladle in his hand raised and ready to strike. When he saw that it was you, he lowered his hand with a sigh. He shook his head, “Can’t sneak up on me like that, Mama.”

“Or what?” you chuckled, “You gonna accidentally beat me up with a soup ladle?”

He wagged it at you accusingly, “Bourne almost killed someone with a rolled-up newspaper.”

You fought back a cough as you laughed, “You comparing yourself to Jason Bourne now?” you shook your head, “Anyway, how’s all this going?” you nodded towards the stove.

He let the topic drop as he turned back to all of his things on the stove, “Good. Almost done.”

“What is it?” you got up and crept over to get a look.

He watched you with a smile as you peeked into the pot on the stove, “Vargas Family recipe. Mom used to make this all the time when we would get sick. Fixed our whole shit, swear to god.”

You laughed, “Sounds exactly like what I need,” you turned back around to face him, “Never knew you were so good in the kitchen.”

He smiled as he pulled you into a gentle hug, “You never gave me a chance. Had to be knockin’ on death’s door in order to get you to rest.”

You chuckled, leaning into his touch, “That’s true.”

Sitting back on the other side of the counter, you rested your chin in your hands as you watched him finish up everything that he was preparing. There was something relaxing about watching him shuffle busily around your kitchen. He was completely in his own zone.

It wasn’t too long before he was turning to you with a bowl of soup in each hand. There was a proud smile on his face as he nodded towards the living room. He waited for you to get comfortably situated on the couch before handing you your bowl.

For a while, the only noise in the house came from the television. Each of you ate in comfortable silence. You were savoring it—this was the first thing you were able to taste in almost a week. And Creeper was too busy watching you and making sure you were alright and enjoying it to say anything. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t care. A week of hardly forcing yourself to eat was all catching up to you.

Once your bowls were empty and discarded on the coffee table, he pulled you so that you were laying with your head in his lap. He gently rubbed your shoulder as you settled against him.

“There’s tea for you, too, when you’re ready,” he let you know.

You hummed in response, feeling the most comfortable you had in a while, “Thank you.”

He looked down at you, brows furrowing, “You still sound stuffy.”

You chuckled, “I’m still sick, Neron. Your soup was good but I don’t think it’s magical.

“I brought my neti pot,” he nodded towards the box he’d brought with him, “We can jus hook you up,” he demonstrated with his hand how it worked, “and clear you out. Tellin’ you, baby, you’ll be good as new.”

You shook your head, sniffling as you did, “Hard pass, Neron.”

“Why?”

“Because,” you tried not to laugh, “that’s gross.”

“I clean it after I use it!”

“I’m sure you do!” you couldn’t hold back your laugh, “Still gross.”

“Will you at least drink the tea?”

You smiled as you sat upright so he could get up, “Yes, baby, I’ll drink the tea.”

You smiled as you watched him shuffle back over to the kitchen and grab a mug for you. He was so careful pouring it and bringing it back over to you. You smiled as you cupped it in your hands. He sat back down next to you, gently rubbing his hand up and down your back. Even though you were still sick, you felt like a new person after a decent nap and a good meal. His touch was more than welcome.

“Thank you,” you rested one hand on his knee, “I really appreciate all of this.”

He shook his head, “This ain’t nothin’. If I had more time to prepare I would’ve pulled out all the stops.”

You chuckled, sipping on your tea, “This was more than enough. Thank you, seriously.”

“I love you. I got you—whatever you need,” he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“I love you too,” you leaned against his side and pulled your feet up onto the couch, settling into the comfort of him being there to take care of you when you needed it.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #creeper vargas #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x you #creeper vargas fanfic #neron vargas #neron creeper vargas #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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nostalgiabones · 3 years

Text

Starting Line // L.H

It feels like SO long since I last did or posted any writing, but solo Luke has pulled me out of the woodwork! I’m so so proud of his new project and love Starting Line so much that it finally inspired me to write something. I feel like I’m a bit rusty with writing so thank you so much @calumrose and @calpops for helping me out with it! I hope you enjoy this & I would love to hear any thoughts on it!

Falling asleep next to Luke has become so normal, so part of your daily routine that when he’s not there, your body knows. The moments through the night where you’re briefly pulled from sleep for whatever reason no longer feel like disturbances when you’re met with the sight of Luke asleep next to you, instantly soothing you back to sleep. All you had to do was reach out, and he was never far away — a gentle kiss to assure you he was right there.

There’s no such sight tonight though.

The bedroom is dark, so for a moment you feel as though your eyes are tricking you, as Luke is always there. Although, there’s a small trickle of light through the room, streaming through the crack of the bedroom door, and it’s then you realise Luke must not have made it to bed yet. Petunia isn’t curled up in her bed at the far side of the room either, and you know she’s doing so in the studio down the hall.

It’s been several months since quarantine and lockdown began, and your lives have been turned upside down — forced to stay at home, tours cancelled and many, many virtual interviews taking over his life. At first Luke wrote over Zoom calls, and took his ideas into the studio when things opened up a little, but there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind that he needed something more. His mind was swirling with ideas that didn’t quite fit into what the band were doing. He’d had too much time at home, too much time to think, and he needed somewhere to put it so he could process it for himself. He’s too creative, he thinks too much — he needs an outlet.

Slipping out of bed, you grab one of Luke’s discarded hoodies, managing to put it on as you walk through the room still half asleep. It’s sometime in the early hours, but when Luke gets fixated on an idea, time is irrelevant. The light from the hall hurts your eyes, such a stark contrast from the dark bedroom. Your footsteps are quiet as you pad down the hall, not wanting to disturb him, but missing the familiar warmth of him sleeping next to you.

Standing in the doorway, he doesn’t acknowledge your presence — too focused on the keys in front of him, engrossed in what he’s playing. You faintly recognise the tune but now it has lyrics, he’s singing — and then you realise that why he’s not yet in bed. He’s hunched over the piano, his phone open next to him, assuming he’s recording little parts to play back later. There’s a lamp switched on in the corner, softening the room with a warm glow.

“I feel the walls are closing, I’m running out of time…” Luke’s tone is soft, almost like he’s mumbling, out of fear of waking you, or he’s just singing to himself. “I think I missed the gun at the starting line..”

You can just make out the words, and realise it’s purely his emotions - I feel, I think… and a part of you is relieved that he’s getting it down on paper, releasing his worries in the way he knows best. He gets too caught up in trying to understand himself sometimes, yet he avoids it too.

“Hey, rockstar,” You try to get his attention. When Luke lifts his head from the keyboard, there’s a concerned look on his face that he woke you up. There’s a smile too though, an amused one that always appears whenever you use that nickname. He gestures for you to come over, scooting along the bench of the piano so you could join him. You do — sitting as close as you could, resting your cheek on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around your back to keep you there. You wearing his clothes never gets old to him - it’s a reminder that whatever he has is also yours, that he wants to share everything with you; including whatever is on his mind. He hears you yawn and pulls you in closer, suddenly craving the feeling you came in search of, of being next to you.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Luke murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead in a silent hello. You shake your head, a free hand landing on his thigh in a reassuring gesture to say that it’s okay. “I didn’t realise what time it was.”

“You didn’t,” You reply, voice hoarse from the few hours of sleep that you did get. “I always wake up when you’re not next to me. You okay? That song sounds kinda sad.”

He laughs a little, looking at his phone to make sure he’s stopped the voice recording. “It’s not meant to be sad, more... reflective. It’s only acoustic so far, but I think I’ve got the lyrics down.”

He softly plays a few keys as you sit there, the gentle sound in combination with Luke humming under his breath next to you already sending you back to sleep. “You gonna send it to Ash to help out with the drums? Or are you leaving it acoustic?”

Luke hums thoughtfully, almost like he’s reluctant to tell you the answer — whether he’s sure he wants to say it out loud, because that makes it real. “I actually wasn’t going to involve them in this one.”

And there it is.

You had wondered if he’d ever go down this road himself, remembering how he had been inspired by Ashton’s solo works. Luke has been tied to the band since his early teens, he’s grown up in the band and barely had time to breathe until the last few months at home. You know he’s happy with the songs he’s written with the guys so far, but had the feeling he was wanting something a little more.

“How come?” You prompt, and even though you have an idea, you want to hear it from him.

“I just feel like I need to make sense of a lot of things,” He explains, almost as if he’s convincing himself too. “Having all this time at home has made me think about myself and who I am compared with who I used to be, and I need somewhere to work it out. I figured music is the best way to do that.”

He expects a bigger reaction from you, like it’s something so out of the norm that you’d question if he’s doing the right thing — but you don’t. You nod, and take one of his hands in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, to ease the nerves you sense he has.

“Well, you said it’s reflective, and what better time to reflect than when the world is at a standstill? I know you can create something amazing.” You assure him, the words whispered against his shoulder, and it’s all the convincing he needs. “Trust yourself, Luke. You’re way more talented than what you give yourself credit for.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his cheek resting on your head, just basking in the silence for a little while. As soon as he started to write this song there had been a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, that he wanted to keep it just for himself — he wanted to pour some of his anxieties into a song in the hopes of learning more about himself.

“You don’t think the guys will be offended, that I want to work on something for myself?” He asks you tentatively, and you know he already knows the answer to that.

You shake your head. “God, no, Luke. You were all very supportive of Ashton when he did Superbloom, why would it be any different for you? You know they’ll have your back no matter what. You’re best friends before anything else. You should talk to them about it, it’ll ease your mind.”

He hums in acknowledgement, a comforted smile on his lips at your words.

“Do you want to hear some more?” He asks, and you don’t even need to give him an answer. You murmur a reassurance of “of course” and he picks up again, feeling more certain of his craft now that he knows he has your support. He never doubted that you wouldn’t support him in whatever he wanted to do, but he thinks too much — he struggles to make sense of his thoughts, and it prompts him even more to want to create art from it.

You can already see how much it means to him, how he’s poured his heart into the lyrics he’s managed to put together. Throughout your relationship, you’ve gotten better at observing his feelings, and you know this is important to him. There’s pages full of scribbled lyrics in front of him, his hair is messy from running his fingers through it every time had gotten frustrated, and it’s clear he was determined to get something out of this song.

“Tell me, am I broken? I can never leave, biting on my tongue and checking if it bleeds,” He sings, the words clearer now he’s not in fear of waking you and of the words itself. “Is it lost on me? All the things I believe.”

It’s like he’s questioning himself with the lyrics as he sings, and as your eyes glance over the sheet in front of you, you notice a whole page of different thoughts and questions about everything — himself, his life and the band. All things that play on his mind constantly that he usually doesn’t have the time (or he occupies himself to avoid) to think about, all coming to the surface now the world is on pause.

“Take me alive, don’t look away until it’s gone, til it’s gone..”

Luke plays a few keys at the end before he turns to you, your face hidden against his shoulder. His fingertips brush your cheek before he lifts your face to look at him, and he’s not sure whether to smile or not when he’s met with unshed tears lining your eyes.

“Baby,” He murmurs, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours, his thumb softly brushing the first tear away as he slides down your cheek. “What’s with the tears?”

“That song is really beautiful,” You reply, sniffling to try and contain your emotions a little. He brushes his lips against yours in a sweet kiss, a sign of both his love and gratitude — and if just the first song has that affect on you, he knows he needs to pursue what’s in his heart. “It’s so pure, and so you. And I can’t wait to see what else you come up with.”

He feels like crying at your words and doesn’t know how to thank you enough for how supported you make him feel, no matter what he’s doing. “I love you, honey. Thanks for being on this journey with me.”

“Where else would I be?”

And when he finally makes it to bed, with you in his arms and a full heart, he’s content — he knows what he needs to pursue, and with you by his side, he knows he can do anything.

Don’t look away until it’s gone.

***

So there we are! I’d love to hear any feedback, I feel like I’m out of practice at writing lmao 🥺 Also I’m starting a new taglist, so if you’d like to be added to my new one, please fill out this Google form!

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miyanom · 3 years

Text

I DON’T WANT HER TO GO

MASTERLIST | SASHA BRAUS X F!READER

synopsis: in which y/n remembers the past as the love of her life dies in her arms.

warnings: major spoilers for attack on titan s4 ep8/the manga!! major character death, mentions of blood

notes: this piece is named after a lyric from the song Flying On Top Of My Car by Limbo, it’s really good so I’d suggest listening to it!! Aside from all that, please be warned that this sucks because I’m not good at writing angst and I usually avoid it at all costs. And there might be some mistakes because I don’t usually spot them till it’s posted already jdjsjs

Was there anything we could’ve done differently?

Y/N found herself asking this question constantly. When they fought Reiner and Bertholdt in Shiganshina, when Eren sent them a letter from Marley asking for their help, and now…

Cheers were the first thing Y/N heard as she climbed into the blimp with help from Connie and Jean. Despite how happy she felt to be going home to Paradis, she couldn’t understand why the others were cheering.

They had just committed genocide, unwillingly or not, how did that make them any better than the Marleyans?

Noticing the frown on Y/N’s face as she stated at the other members of the Survey Corps, Sasha stepped forward to place a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Y/N quickly looked back in Sasha’s direction, a warm smiling making its way onto her face, especially as Sasha began to speak.

“I can’t wait to get home and eat.” Sasha leaned her head back slightly, removing her hand from Y/N’s shoulder to place them both on her stomach. “Maybe Niccolo made us a nice, warm meal.”

Despite their current situation, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Sasha’s antics. “Of course that’s all you’re thinking about. Do you ever think about anything other than food, Sasha?”

Sasha opened one eye to look at Y/N. “Hey, I thought you loved that about me!” She stuck her tongue out.

Y/N rolled her eyes jokingly. “Yeah, and everyday I wonder why.”

Connie, who had been standing with the two girls, suddenly threw an arm around Sasha’s shoulders. “Are you kidding, Y/N? You’ve been head over heels for Sasha since she ate that potato during our induction.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in embarrassment. “C… Connie! I told you that in confidence!”

Connie moved to cover the top of his head from Y/N’s hand as she jumped in his direction, prepared to defend the crush she had on Sasha back in their trainee days.

The secret of their feelings had come out a few years ago. They had been helping Historia at the orphanage she set up after becoming Queen, it was a sweet memory hidden amongst all the bad. Between Rod Reiss and fighting Reiner and Bertholdt, it was a nice moment between the two of them.

“This is Kaya!” Sasha grinned as she placed her hands on the child’s shoulders. Kaya stood just in front of Sasha, her eyes focused on the ground as she suddenly became shy.

Y/N smiled softly at Sasha. There was once a time where Sasha thought of herself as a coward, but Y/N knew better. The day Sasha risked her life to fight a Titan with a single arrow while protecting Kaya proved that she wasn’t a coward at all.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kaya. I’m Y/N,” she crouched down slightly to be face to face with the girl who had come to think of Sasha as an older sister.

“I know,” Kaya squeaked out. “Sasha… Sasha’s talked about you a lot!”

Sasha’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she quickly averted her gaze while Y/N looked up at her in surprise. “She does?” Y/N asked in a whisper.

Seeming to notice what was going on between the older girls — especially thanks to the blush that had taken over Sasha’s face — Kaya nodded her head. “She said you’re really pretty, and she was right!”

Y/N bit back her smile as she stood up straight, nervously fiddling with her hands as she stared at Sasha. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I-” Sasha choked out, unable to really say anything as the red hues on her cheeks grew darker.

“Well… I think you’re pretty, too,” Y/N muttered. “Really pretty.”

Connie stayed on the ground, his hands still covering his head as Y/N retreated back to Sasha’s side, glaring at the boy even as she pressed a kiss against Sasha’s cheek.

Though Y/N turned back to look at Sasha after noticing the girl hadn’t said anything for a few minutes now.

Sasha stood there, the smile wiped from her face as a stern expression replaced it. “Sasha? What’s wrong?” Y/N questioned.

“I just heard something,” she explained.

Jean’s eyes flickered from Sasha, to the other soldiers. “Quiet down!”

Connie, seeming to realise that something was wrong, stood up from the ground. “Why isn’t Lobov back yet?”

“He should’ve come up by now…”

Before Y/N could say anything else, her eyes fell onto a small figure rolling into the blimp. A loud bang echoing through the small aircraft as everyone’s cheers went dead silent.

Y/N’s eyes moved from the attacker to Sasha, who began to fall backwards, till her body was hitting the ground.

Everything was set into motion, the other soldiers moving to restrain the attackers while Connie and Jean ran for Sasha.

Y/N stood there in shock, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of Sasha bleeding out on the floor of the foreign aircraft. “Sasha! Stay with us!” Connie cried out.

Finally snapping out of whatever trance she had been trapped in, Y/N dropped to her knees beside Sasha, carefully placing her hands against the shot wound near her rib cage.

She could feel the warm blood seeping on to her hands, but she kept her teary eyes focused on Sasha’s pale face. “Come on, Sasha! Stay awake!” She pleaded.

Don’t die so far from home…

“Y/N… You’re so loud…” Sasha whispered, her voice coming out shaky as she blankly stared past the three who sat by her. “So… is our food… ready yet?”

Don’t die…

“Get a tourniquet!” Jean ordered in a loud voice, while Y/N kept her hands pressed against the wound in an attempt to block the blood.

“Please… stay with us,” she whispered, moving one of her hands to gently touch Sasha’s face as two other soldiers ran over to wrap the wound and stop the bleed. “Don’t leave me, Sasha. Please!”

Connie fell out of his kneeling position, watching Sasha in concern as Jean took the attackers into the other room.

The tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she took Sasha’s hand into her own. “Just hang on. You’re going to make it home, I promise.”

Sasha weakly glanced up at Y/N, as the girl gently placed her forehead against her own. Y/N’s grip on Sasha’s hand grew tighter as Sasha attempted to speak again, only for rasping coughs to escape her lips as she attempted to say her love’s name one final time.

There was still so much for them to do, they were supposed to have more time left. They were meant to head back to Sasha’s village one day, make a home for themselves. Sasha was going to teach Y/N how to hunt properly, she promised she would.

And Y/N was supposed to tell her the words she had ached to say ever since Sasha first kissed her at that beach four years ago. I love you. Three trivial words, sure, but words they had been too scared to say in fear of a moment like this.

But Y/N knew what she felt every time Sasha smiled in her direction, it was love.

And now it was too late...

Y/N felt Sasha’s hand go limp in her own one, causing her to quickly clench her eyes shut, unable to stop the sobs that wracked through her body as the field medics announced Sasha’s death.

Y/N barely noticed Connie leave her side, until Mikasa and Armin were running out from the other room, crying for their friend.

She shakily pushed herself up off the ground, staggering away from Sasha’s corpse. Ignoring the numb feeling coursing through her body, Y/N pressed her back against the wall of the blimp, shaky breaths leaving her lips as she stared down at the blood staining the palms of her hands.

Sasha’s blood…

The love of her life’s blood...

Sasha’s raspy breaths as she struggled to breathe through the pain haunted Y/N’s mind, and the question she had been asking herself for the last four years came back to her as she weakly lifted her head, looking between Sasha’s blood and the child soldiers who had killed her.

Was there anything we could’ve done differently?

#Sasha Braus x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #sasha blouse x reader #Sasha Braus oneshot #attack on titan one shot #aot s4 spoilers #aot manga spoilers

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deepperplexity · 3 years

Text

Golden Light

Title: Golden Light

Request: hi! could you write some sev x reader where they get into a really bad argument and the reader is very hurt and needs to take some time alone and then severus tries to make everything right again? angst with a happy ending please my heart can’t take heartbreak //Nonny

A/N: Gosh, thank you Nonny for this request! This was both difficult and fun to write. I hope you all will enjoy it! <3 I miss my Snape-boi so it was nice to take a small break from Turpin and write this one ^^

Pairing: Snape x Reader

Setting: Spinner’s End, 1997

Word Count: 2911

Warnings: Angst, Emotional H/C, Fluff, HEA, Trust Issues

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

“You never listen!” you shrieked as you glared at him. He had the nerve to look unruffled by your high tone and accusation.

“I do-”

“No! No, you don’t! You don’t listen Severus and that’s the problem!” You wanted to lunge at the brooding man clad in his billowing travel cloak. He was leaving, again, to attend some secret meeting in some distant location with Merlin knew who and you were so sick and tired of it. You wanted to chain him to the house until he talked with you, and listened to what you had to say. For once.

“Darling, I assure you-”

“Don’t you dare!” you pointed your finger at him, furious. He did this every time. He talked you down, tried to make you see it differently, tried to keep you quiet and happy with whatever he gave you. Not this time. All you wanted was to be close to him, know him, know what was going on in his life as you were in it all the way. Yet that didn’t mean you got a lot of his time or him. Barely any in fact. He was always away. At Hogwarts, meetings, missions - not that you cared what was said or done during the meetings. Or even who was there. That’s not what you wanted to know or hear about.

“I just want to know you-”

“I can not tell you, love. You know I can not. For your safety.” You wiped at the tears that were falling out of anger and rolled down your cheeks before they dripped from your chin. He looked unfaced. The mask of a double spy already in place as he prepared to leave you once more without hearing you.

“I don’t care about my damn safety when I can’t have you, be with you!” you screamed as your hands fisted by your sides. His shoulders sunk a tad and he looked hurt. I’m fucking hurt!

“You never talk to me! I don’t know anything about you, Severus! You always shut me out even though you want me to tell you about every single little thing! It’s not fair!” Your voice was broken, sobs escaped you and it was hard to breathe as he just looked at you without any inclination of wanting to speak with you. Ease your pain.

Severus sighed but didn’t move more than grabbing at his arm as his face hardened. The Dark Lord was calling for him and you knew he would walk out that door no matter what you said or did. Your heart hurt, your stomach was in knots with worry over him but also worry over your relationship. Where were you heading if there was no time, communication or trust?

“Darling, I have to…” His dark voice was a rumble that made you shiver, just as it had done for the past years, since the first time you heard it. He always made you weak with want.

“Just, go. I, need time.” He stiffened at your words as you broke eye contact with him. You didn’t want him to see the pure pain that slashed in you over his indifference. His reluctance to let you in. Was it really too much to ask to know the man you loved, who claimed he loved you beyond everything else? No, it wasn’t. It wasn’t too much to ask but if he could not give himself to you, what were you to do? Leave him? You couldn’t. You’d always be his yet this had to stop. One way or another.

His cold hand stroked with gentle fingers down your cheek to wipe away the tears that lingered there. You turned your head away as you hugged yourself through a shaky breath.

“Go,” you squeezed out, “I need time to, figure this shit out. I’ll go to my mother’s.” He sighed again, deeply.

“Love, please,” he growled in a low tone and you knew his arm was aching as his hand were fisting and unfisting in your peripheral.

“Don’t come after me.” You turned and left him in the hallway. You stopped right inside of the doorway to the kitchen, you fought with all your strength to not break down and cry. The moment the door closed in the hallway and he was gone again your knees buckled and you crumbled to the floor with a wailing, shattering sound that vibrated from the depths of your chest through the entire house.

After a few long moments when you had cried and sobbed, hugged yourself and allowed the tears to stream freely you went upstairs and started to pack your bag. You had no idea how long you would be gone but you knew you needed to get away from him and have some space to figure it all out. He needed the space too. He needed to realise that a relationship took trust, even if that was a hard thing for him to give. You knew that, understood that to some degree even if he hadn’t let you in and explained why. But, nonetheless, you were not like everyone else. You truly loved him, deeply and passionately, you wanted his trust and you wanted to give him your full trust continuously. It was just not that simple, apparently. And that hurt, fiercely.

…Three days later…

“Sweetheart, he adores you, he loves you. It will be okay.” You smiled at your mother as you were snuggled up on the little wooden bench on the back porch with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Your mother had been understanding and caring, but still gave you space to figure things out and think. The time moved so slow and every second was painful as you were separated from Severus. You wanted to yield and just be with him, that little piece he gave you of himself. You loved him and you knew that, truly. But you were tired of getting your heart broken over and over and over. It hurt too much.

“I just don’t know if I can, if I can deal with what little he gives me.” You glanced at your mother who sat crosslegged on the edge of the bench by your curled up feet.

“Sweetheart, have you turned it around?” You knitted your brows at her words.

“What?”

“Turn it around. Think about what he has given to you, what he has sacrificed to be with you and have you in his life. What he goes through every single day to have your love.” You both were quiet for a little moment as you thought about it. Your mother wasn’t wrong but that was still not enough. You needed more, more of him.

“I do not claim to know Severus, I don’t really,” your mother continued, “But let me just say, he loves you madly. Just as you love him madly. You have given me very little information, I know it’s for my safety and his, but from what you have told me about secret meetings that are dangerous and even possibly lethal he must carry quite a weight over his shoulders with concern for your safety.” you knitted you brows at him and she continued, “If I were him, if I put the one I love in mortal danger each and every day just by being with them I think I would have left. To make it easier and safer. But his love, it’s so strong and deep that he hasn’t done that. Despite it all, he is with you in theses dark and dangerous times. He’s with you, as much as he can. Do you see what I mean?” Your mother spoke with a gentle smile aimed at you and you couldn’t help the silent tears that flowed again. You simply nodded, because you knew, you understood what she was getting at now. It hurt to think about the pain you caused him by just loving him.

Your mother left you to your own thoughts as the tears dried up and left you with red and swollen eyes. You wanted to go to him, be with him, be held by him and apologies for the way you had acted. But, you also knew that nothing had changed. It still killed you, shattered you, to not know him and not have him in a way that mattered more to you than his physical presence. He was a mere whisper to you out of the full song you knew was him. You wanted the song, with all the complicated lyrics and high notes mixed with the low ones. You needed more and rightly so. He had more of you, he had more and it pained you that you did not have that of him.

You shuddered as dusk settled and the evening chill strode in. The blanket wasn’t quite enough to keep you warm yet you couldn’t seem to move from the bench as a numbness had started to fill your heart. Is this is? Is this all I will ever have of him? It’s not enough. It’s not enough, I want more, I need more. I can’t live like this. The thoughts made you sigh as you looked out over the back garden that was being consumed by darkness as night came.

A small swoosh was heard and there he was. Severus. He was stood at the end of the garden like a dark cloud of warmth. You jolted ever so slightly and blinked, confused. Were you imagining him?

“Love,” he whispered in that thunderous voice of his that reach all the way to you and your heart leapt. In an instant, you had abandoned the bench and the blanket, your feet lead you down the stairs and he met you halfway through the garden in a strong embrace as new tears welled up and you sobbed into his chest as his arms crushed you to him.

“Love, I’m sorry, I can not stay away any longer. Please,” he breathed into your hair as he held you as close as could be.

“Sev…”

You stood there for a long moment, held by each other as you both took comfort from the closeness. But you could not allow him to sweep you off your feet again. So after another moment you stepped back and he reluctantly let you out of his embrace but his hands remained on your hips as yours were placed on his chest where you could feel his breaths and the beating of his wonderful heart. The heart you wanted access to, completely.

“I am sorry,” he whispered as one hand rose to your chin and he tilted your head back. You were nearly lost in the swirling depths of his onyx eyes that appeared black in the darkness. His hair was greasier than you had seen it in a long while, his skin as pale as ever and he looked as if he were in immense pain.

“Severus, that’s not enough,” you whispered back as you had resolved yourself to not giving in yet again. You deserved more than scraps of the man you loved so dearly and he deserved to feel cared for even after someone knew his dark secrets. Knew his emotions and thoughts that he guarded like Cerberus guarded the underworld if you listened to muggles in Greece.

He sighed as his dark eyes searched yours. You let him. You kept eye contact and didn’t shy away as your emotions were laid bare in your own eyes. He shuddered and you shivered as a tear rolled down his cheek silently.

“I can not tell you, darling, I can not do such a thing with a good conscience.” You sighed at his refusal and that void that had been growing in your heart expanded.

“If you know... Love, if you know what goes on in those meetings, during my mission, if you know these things-”

“Wait, no, I don’t care about that stuff.” You knitted your brows as his rose ever so slightly.

“Then why are we arguing?” He sounded confused and pondering. You groaned.

“Because you. don’t. listen.,” you gritted out as your hands hardened against his chest.

He had truly not been hearing you at all. You had told him time and time again what you wanted to know. You had asked him time and time again how he was feeling, what he was thinking, what he felt about an endless array of things. Never had you asked to know what happened at the meetings, what he did during his missions or who he met - not once. You sighed and stepped forward so you could lean your forehead against his shoulder. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around you again.

“I’m, confused,” he muttered and you chuckled.

“Tell me, Sev, what have I asked you?”

“I-, well you have asked me a lot of things, love.” You sighed on another chuckle. He had no clue what you had been asking because he had not been actively listening, he had just tried to shut you down and assumed you wanted to know information rather than emotions and feelings; thoughts.

“I have asked you to share yourself with me, Severus. I have asked for you, for your emotions and thoughts. Nothing else.” He sighed and kissed the side of your head.

“I am a fool,” he muttered a moment later and you chuckled for the third time as you quite frankly agreed with him at that moment.

…Back at Spinner’s End…

You both sat down on the couch after having returned home and taken a shower together, in silence. He had asked you to give him a chance, back at your mother’s house, to understand and try again. It had taken a little convincing because you wanted to make sure he was not simply trying to get you back home with him (even if, honestly, that was all you wanted after having been separated for three days by a stupid argument that hurt so badly). You had agreed on the premises that he talked with you and listened to you so he could stop being a fool. He had agreed to that in return.

He moved closer to your end of the couch and pulled you into his side. He cradled you against his chest and you were quite content with being there. You wanted to just enjoy him again and be blissfully happy at the moment - but you knew you couldn’t allow that. So you took a breath and he stiffened.

“Sev,” you said as your hand rested gently on his thigh, “tell me how you feel.”

“You want to know how I feel?”

“Yes, how you feel, what you’re thinking, experiencing, where you are emotionally. I want to know you,” you stated with sincerity. He adjusted his position so he could pull you even closer. You waited.

“This is what I need to do to keep you in my life? Talk about what I feel?” he asked on a low rumble, you nodded, “You just want to know me?” You nodded again.

“That’s all, I want to know the man I love. Not what he does, hears or where he goes. I just want to know you.” Please just let me know you, Sev…

“I, think I can do that.” You smiled at his hesitant words and understood that he would be struggling for a long time to put words on things he felt more often as he never did so before. But perhaps, you would at least get a glimpse this evening.

Severus always kept to himself, the dark and brooding type with secrets. Deep, dark, horrible secrets that were edged with pain or danger. Memories that he had hidden and kept hidden for years. That was the man you had fallen in love with but that was not the man you would stay in love for. That man was starting to show through. You listened intently as he softly and carefully began to talk about trivial emotions, small things really. But it was a start.

So you leaned into him, relaxed and allowed him to stroke your arm, kiss the top of your head and lean his cheek against it after as his other hand grabbed onto the one you had had resting on his thigh. As the night drew on and you were closing in on dawn his grip on you tightened gradually, as if he was afraid you would leave as he let you hear about his dark secrets and tiny joyful moments. His past, his present, his hope for the future. A future he wanted to spend with you.

Your hand held onto his a little tighter at that point.

“Severus, honey, there is no way I will let you have a future that I’m not in. I’m with you forever and always. As long as you let me be with you and love you, I will.” Your words made him shake with withheld emotions as he buried his hooked nose in your neck and inhaled a shaky breath that was strangled by a low sob.

“I love you, (y/n).” His breath warmed your skin before he kissed you gently at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“And I love you, forever, Severus.” You held onto him as the first light of day shined in through the dirty windows and graced your tangled bodies with a golden light of hope.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

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[Feb:2021]

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Magician Behind the Music // Owen Joyner

sagSummary: Being in a studio recording songs is an intimidating experience for anyone regardless of age. Wanting the best in the business for his soundtrack Kenny Ortega brings his cast to the best in the business. Heading the production is no ever than Y/N with a certain sparkle when it comes to the tall blonde.

Warning: Swearing, insecurity, oblivious!reader and fluff

Words: 2.1k

A/N: I know nothing about producing songs so I ended up winging it. About time I make a fic for Owen

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

The studio had the sound of music as a group of people walk down the hall of the building that housed world-renowned recording studio. The office chair was leaning back as a figure sat listening to the nearly finished album. Forest green Sanuk slip-on shoes on the feet of the individual the door opening wasn’t heard.

“Girls you wanna hear the finished product?” You questioned from your seat behind the large control panel. The four girls on the video chat excited responded enthusiastic band members.

Not needing anymore push the song replaced the one that had been playing as background noise. Sliding the volume up the music, you had both produced and featured played through the speakers. As the pre-chorus and the chorus came, you couldn’t help but start singing.

I find peace in every story you told

I think of you, I’ll never be alone

It’s true, true, true

You know I do, do, do

Oh, I need you more than words can say

Oh, you save me in ways that I can’t explain

Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same

Oh, I need you more than words can say

All five that poured themselves on the song couldn’t help but bop along with the catchy words and beat. By far, one of your most favourite songs you ever co-wrote, feature and produce. You and little Mix had been desiring to co-work on something for years now.

“That pre-chorus and chorus are the favourites of my career!” You excitedly announced glancing up the glass separating the booth from the control room. Your face found a handful of young adults and Kenny in the reflection.

“It’s gonna be a bop to sing!” Perrie agreed with her hair in messy space buns sitting at her computer desk in comfy clothes.

Jesy, Leigh-Anne and Jade wore similar loungewear in the safety of their homes after travelling out of LA back to England. An entire week spent solely on writing music and recording with a few sleepover nostalgic of the teen years.

“I gotta go. My next clients are here.” You told the excited British girl group before your cursor ended the video chat.

Pushing off with your toe on the floor, you faced the group seated taking in the awed expressions from the song. Part of you is annoyed at the blatant disregard of professionalism and the potential of the song being leaked.

“Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, and Madison this is my friend Y/N. She’s a musician, songwriter and a producer.” Kenny spoke, waving towards your seat position at the forefront of the control panel.

Your eyes gleamed brighter with the teal blue cable knit sweater paired with a pair of fitted blue jeans. The pros of being a producer in a recording studio meant the work attire was relaxed compared to desk jobs. It appeared this group was similar.

“Hello.” You spoke standing up to be closer to the group, “I believe you have a soundtrack needed? I’m Y/N Y/L/N. I’d like to ask that the song you overheard not be spoken about again.”

“I’m Charlie.” The brunette with a white hat put on backwards immediately shook your hand. Even with the hat, you could tell his hair was a gorgeous brown that contrasted his pretty eyes hazel green eyes.

“Hi Charlie.” You smiled at the male before stepping around him to the other three people in the room. The only other girl in the room was most definitely the lead of whatever show Kenny was currently doing.

“You’re Madison.” You spoke, taking in her youthful appearance and the quiet wisdom flowing within her eyes, the colour of dark coffee grounds. Her hair was down in her natural texture, resting on the shoulders of her muted olive green shirt.

“Jeremy.” Came from the shorter boy with startling rich dark brown almost black hair and eyes you couldn’t discern between blue or green. His cheeks a permanent pink flush but an infectious grin, “How are you?”

“My collaborators for a song liked it, and I’m not going to explain what you’ll be doing in the booth.” You replied gesturing to the enclosed space with the microphone and a stand of instruments.

Brushing off any other details you finally came to the only nameless individual in the room with the only blonde head of hair.

“Owen.” The blonde spoke softly with his eyes nearly begging to leave your expression with the anxiety building. This was so new for Owen, and unlike anything, he had ever experienced before in his life.

“Take a seat.” You motioned towards the long couch against the wall opposite the recording booth. It was a plus that extended couch perfect for a short nap after a near all-nighter. Your studio was the only one with such a good sofa.

“I’ve worked with Kenny on his Descendants series with the cast along with strictly only musicians. I say this with respect with Kenny, but if you don’t respect me or my process, I won’t hesitate to end this. It’s in the contract.” You sternly told the young individuals, “That being said. Your voice is an instrument that needs to be cared for. You need to be careful with it.”

The vocal coach dove into a more detailed list of the items not to be ingested by actors. The same thing happened with every new client you met after the horror film of a massacre a few years previous. As they went over, you looked over the schedule.

The binder was thick with the different songs in the series with jot notes in the margins. Kenny sat in the other chair, looking at them.

“So, Jeremy is the only one with experience?” You questioned glancing up at your elder with a look of curiosity. Kenny nodded with a fond smile, “Okay so let’s get his vocals for the first song recorded. That way, the others have a first-hand look at how it happens.”

Jeremy was quick to rid himself of his jacket to slide into the booth with the headphones resting on only one ear. In two hours, you had guided Madison and Charlie through their parts of this session. Your mouth opened to invite Owen into the booth but his demeanour concerned you.

“Kenny, how about we take a break for lunch?” You subtly guided Kenny to look at Owen before he quickly agreed.

Charlie was practically skipping out of the recording studio with his hands nudging Jeremy on his way out. Madison, led by her father, left right after leaving Owen to just about exit the room.

“Hey Owen?” You spoke, bringing the tensed young man’s attention, “Can you give me a moment?”

His head of thick blonde hair hesitantly nodded as Kenny followed the other cast members out of the room. Gently nudging the door closed you guided him to sit on the couch with you stationed in the office chair.

“First time recording is a bitch of pressure. I completely understand because I’ve guided people and been guided in the booth.” You began leaning forward to meet his eyes, “I know as someone with anxiety it’s intimidating. Let me know. Whatever you tell me will stay between us.”

Owen was quiet, “I’ve done other projects. I’ve never had the opportunity to have a role as a drummer. I guess this is overwhelming.”

“How about you hop into the room, and we mess around with a song?” You questioned, “I can show you how I produce if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” Owen’s lips curved just a fraction into a ghost of a smile with the tension in his shoulders melting.

For the next two hours, you spent time in the booth explaining the equipment’s role in the recording. After he gave a short lyric, you invited him to sit by the soundboard with you to walk him through it. All the while, you shared the pizza you had ordered for both of you.

“I started in the business as background vocals for a few bands before I delved into my own career as a musician. I believe I was about seventeen when I got to be part of people getting the songs ready for fans. I fell in love and find it more fun behind the soundboard.” You informed the blonde listening to a recent song you had finished.

“This is insanely cool. I think I’m ready to record my parts.” Owen admitted playing with his fingers. In response, you typed out a quick message to Kenny, bringing the other people back after a long break.

As much as you would have loved creating the soundtrack, it wasn’t possible with your other commitments. Leaving the work in Alana’s capable hands, you had been packing for your visit to the UK for performing the song with Little Mix. Owen, having the day off, had found himself in your apartment as he had for the last few weeks.

“Do you really have to go?” Owen whined, staring at with his head tilted back on the couch. Lips pursed in a pout and blue eyes shining sadly.

“As much as I would adore falling for that look, we both know I have to.” You admitted dropping packing to snuggle into his side, “What’s up with you lately?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned, rolling his head on the back of the couch you look at you. From the position, he couldn’t see your face, but that didn’t stop him from staring.

“It’s hard to describe, but you get flustered when certain songs come on. You’ve been ditching the cast to spend time with me.” You listed off, staring off into the distance, “You got Charlie to drive in the opposite direction of your work to pick me up.”

“What kind of songs?” Owen inquired with one arched eyebrow high. You shifted to stare up at the soft look in his pretty blue eyes.

“It was some duet from that tv series about the High School Musical films…” Your sentence trailed off as everything clicked, “You have feelings for me.”

“Thought it was blatantly obvious. I danced with you in the rain at midnight while I sang to you. I think that’s the most obvious action.” Owen chuckled brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he took in the startled expression

Owen had walked you home after a late recording session with the cast talking each other’s ear off with different subjects. His hand had slid into yours as he tugged you into the ice cream shop on the way; a scoop each. His eyes glued to every move you made with passion behind every single word.

“-they came to me about a song. It’s a surprise for Kenny, I suppose.” Your one holding the ice cream cone nearly went flying with the motion you made. Your other clasped in Owen’s without even realizing it.

“So, it’s the last song you’ll be helping us on, right?” Owen asked halting to toss the napkin from his cone in the closest bin. You followed suit while intertwining your fingers back together.

“The girls want to do a short little radio tour to promote the single. It would be a month most likely to brainstorm new ideas for songs. We’ve all agreed to collaborate in the future.” You informed the nineteen-year-old. He was a year and a half younger than you.

“When-”

Your sudden squeal cut him off as the sky opened up to a sudden pouring of rain on the two of you. Had you not been so focused on the conversation you would have seen the cloudy sky and the light drizzle of rain.

“Whoa!” Owen laughed, tugging you into his arms in a complete act of spontaneity. His voice softly singing one of your favourite songs.

As he twirled you around in the rain, he serenaded you with Edwin McCain’s song ‘I’ll Be’ unapologetically sharing a piece of himself. It seemed the universe took pity on the male by allowing him to dance smoothly with his friend.

“This is my favourite song.” You giggled as he dipped you with one of your legs in the air. The joy in your features melting the actor’s heart.

“You’ve been playing it every day for the last week.” Owen beamed, leaning his forehead on yours as he trailed off the end of the song, “I’ve memorized every lyric in it.”

With rainwater dripping down your nose the words settled in your mind cementing something you had been only slightly aware of. Playing that song often meant one thing: you had deep feelings for someone.

The someone being Owen Joyner.

“I’m kind of stupid.” You snorted turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I’ve got no doubts I fell in love with you in that dance.”

Owen’s grin preceded a toe-curling kiss that was the first of many that would happen.

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#owen joyner imagines #owen joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp fanfic #owen joyner #jatp #julie and the phantoms #caitsy and ash productions

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deceasedanddesist · 3 years

Text

eyes off you ( hermione granger )

this is for kelly’s 3k writing challenge!! @anchoeritic ily kells<3

pairing: hermione granger x slytherin!reader ( half blood prince )

gender neutral! reader ( if there is a mistake or i accidentally used she/her pronouns let me know and ill fix it! )

warnings: small mentions of abuse at home, other than that just fluff and awkwardness.

notes: inspired by the song ‘eyes off you’ by prettymuch, the lyrics are bolded and italicized. y/n is the biggest simp. please ignore my grammar mistakes and my horrendous sentence structure. this also gives off major jily vibes, so do what you will with that information. I kinda went off with this I'm so sorry if it starts to get boring. images are from pinterest.

word count - 1.9k

hermione granger was a stubborn girl, that was one thing you knew for sure. when the two of you first met she had been adamant on hating your guts, excessive flirting and all. it was your persistence is what really got through to her; like starting to hang out in the library because you knew she would be there, and helping her pick up her books when some asshole seventh year—adorning the same infamous emerald green you did—tripped her up in the hall ( although not before threatening the bugger in her honour first ).

at the end of the day, the little acts of service were the things that made hermione swallow her pride and finally go on a damn date with you. at first, harry and ron were in utter shock that the girl was even considering going on a date with “the enemy” as they oh-so-subtly put it. but she just told them they were being overly dramatic, and that their input into who she decides to date was simply inadequate. so was it ever the surprise that one day when you finally worked up the courage to ask her, she actually said yes.

“are you serious?” you had expressed your complete disbelief of the words you just heard come out of the curly haired girls mouth.

“yes y/n, i am dead serious.” she had echoed back to you, looking thoroughly amused.

you were astonished, the girl that you quite frankly couldn’t take your eyes off of since fifth year actually agreed to go out with you. the gryffindor girl specifically that you had set your sights on, ignoring the warnings from your friends and backlash from your family, it had all paid off. becoming more defiant with your family last summer was no easy deed, but you knew the yelling and even the hitting was better than whatever they were scheming up for you this summer. lord voldemort was getting even closer to making sure he had a solid, fucked up, but loyal fanbase and you knew you would soon be a part of it if you didn’t get your shit together. you pretty much had a foolproof plan to get the hell out of your psycho household, you just needed to wait for the right moment to act on it.

amidst all of this, you knew it was dangerous to get involved with a muggle born, and you knew you were being selfish by risking yours and hermione’s lives. but there was something about her. the way she would make you feel when your insistent nagging got her lips to turn up just a little bit, or when you did something particularly embarrassing and finally got a boisterous laugh to erupt from her mouth in the middle of potions ( snape was not happy with the two of you ).

so you knew it was dangerous, you really did. but as soon as you saw hermione in the corridor right outside of the slytherin common rooms, waiting for you like you had anxiously asked her to after dinner yesterday, you knew you were down bad. you knew you were down bad because as soon as you saw her face drop when draco malfoy approached her, your heart lurched and you basically sprinted to where she was standing. she was in the middle of telling malfoy to shut up when you slid up beside her and threw an arm around her shoulder ( because protective instincts.... duh! ), somehow managing to simultaneously tell him to “sod off” and flip him the bird while hermione sunk into your side like there's no place she’d rather be.

as the two of you ran off, you couldn't help but mutter into her ear “mione, i'm not sure.....but i think his father will be hearing about this.”

you had a feeling that the laugh she let out was one you’d be hearing in your dreams for a while.

“so, where would you like to take me y/n.” she spoke, the air of the previous laughter still heard in her voice.

“tell me anything you wanna do.”

she hummed “i don't know. how about the three broomsticks?”

while you were mulling it over, she slipped her hand in yours. your head immediately turned to meet her eyes.

there's no touch or feeling

pleasure or pain

anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins

the sudden affection had you choked up, and you had to clear your throat before continuing “um, that sounds great.”

as soon as the consent left your lips she was dragging you up the road and into the warmth of the pub, where madame rosmerta greeted the two of you at the front door. hands still intertwined, you ordered two butterbeer before wandering off into a booth. it was cozy, and you found yourself ravishing in the feeling of it all; going on hogsmeade dates, holding hands, and curling up in a booth with your drinks. it wasn’t long before you and hermione were mindlessly chatting about anything and everything, falling so deeply into conversation. only breaking out when you make her laugh, or when you go speechless at the broad smile that completely lights up her face, something that you noticed was specifically reserved for silly stories about harry and ron or her parents. you hoped that someday she would be able to talk about you with that marvellous smile on her face.

“you’re staring.” she looked adorably embarrassed at the sentiment, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I just can't take my eyes off of you.” it was a bold ( albeit true ) statement, and hermione swore to merlin you looked like you never meant any other utterance more.

“that's very generous of you, but i'm afraid i'm not that attractive.”

you looked at her in complete disbelief, “okay, okay, i’m going to wholeheartedly disregard what you just said,” taking a pause for dramatic effect “because you are the single most beautiful girl i've ever laid my eyes on, hermione granger.”

if the girl wasn’t blushing before, she was now. the way she was scrunching up her nose was the cutest, and you found her obvious inability to take a compliment quite charming. it actually boosted your own confidence, and you found yourself wanting to shower her with praises for the rest of your life just to see her reaction over and over again.

“what?” you teased, a sly smile making its way onto your face, “don't tell me potter and co deprive you of the flattery you deserve.”

the way she tilted her head and had her eyes narrowed ever so slightly told you everything you needed to know, she watched as your eyes widened in shock but shook it off because of the awkward air that was suddenly formed over the topic.

you were quite literally panicking, what if you just ruined everything? curse your slytherin ambition, you must’ve gone too far with your allusive comments. hermione hadn’t talked for about five minutes now, opting to finish her butterbeer, and the energy full of endless conversation dissipated long ago. your mug was still half full, sitting in front of you. you were just sitting there, staring at it, frantically searching your brain for something to talk about but you were fucking blanking. you were failing at pretty much the only thing you pride yourself on, and it happened to be the thing that got hermione to even go out with you in the first place.

once hermione was finished nursing her drink, you decided to speak now before she decided to make up an excuse to leave. “I'm sorry if I went too far, I do that sometimes and I made you uncomfortable, and i'm so sorry.”

then, she did the one thing you would have never even fathomed. she laughed. the girl was chortling, her head thrown back and when she finally came down from her fit she had tears running down her face.

“I'm sorry,” she said, noticing your eyebrows furrowed in concern “i've just never had someone apologize for complimenting me.”

you let out an anxious chuckle, “well you did kind of stop talking there, i figured i hit a nerve.”

“oh no! i just used to, um, fancy ron and he hasn't complimented me nearly as much in 6 years then you’ve had in an hour.” she stumbled over her words a bit as she spoke, evidently uncomfortable discussing her previous crush on weasley.

“well,” you dragged on, “i think you deserve all the flattery in the world.”

you swore to salazar slytherin himself her smile lit up the whole room, and your heart swelled when she reached over the table to grab both of your hands and link them with hers.

“how about we go for a walk, the black lake maybe?” the suggestion brought your attention to how dark it had gotten outside, you estimated that you had about an hour till the sun set. you smirked.

“I see you’re trying to snag a sunset kiss by the black lake, granger.”

your smirk turned into a full on smile as she got flustered once again, biting her lower lip.

“it's absolutely barbaric that you would allude to that, l/n.” the sarcasm was clear in her tone as you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

leaving the three broomsticks hand in hand once again, the two of you made your way down to the lake. you take off the sweater you were wearing to spread it across the grass for you and hermione to settle yourselves on. it wasn't very big, but neither of you seemed to mind as you snuggled into each other against the nights breeze. your arm making its way around her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.

you two watched the sunset in silence. it wasn’t awkward like a few minutes ago, there wasn’t a need to fill it with dialogue, it was completely comfortable. hermione adjusted under your arm and turned her head to look at you, the sudden change in direction making a few curls get caught in her glossed lips. before she could even lift her arm, you were already there, brushing her hair behind her ear. your hand found its home behind her neck as you angled your head to brush your nose against hers, her lip unconsciously making its way in between her teeth again.

you took a sharp breath and spoke, “every little thing you do drives me wild.”

“are you gonna give me that kiss, or keep talk-”

you could feel her words melt away against your lips as you took action and pushed her head towards yours. her hands tightening around your waist and her soft sighs as your lips connect act as reminders that she wants this as much as you, and you are so damn thankful that she leans back in after you separate to take a breath.

and the sun sets with the two of you, hanging onto each other like you were each others lifelines, previous thoughts about your family or the stupid slytherin/gryffindor feud are long gone by now.

you decide that you can deal with all of your problems in the near future, because now you have hermione safe in your arms, and that's more than enough motivation for you to stay right where you are.

#kelly's 3k wc !#harry potter #hermione granger x reader #gender neutral reader #hogwarts #hogsmeade #this is my first like writing post so please be nice to me #I'm sorry if this is shit #i tried #plz give me constructive criticism #i need it

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 29: Into the Empty Storm

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

You have more questions than answers and are starting to think that maybe there aren't any answers. When you wake up, Chen provides you with some but maybe they aren't what you wanted to hear. You have a crisis of faith- but pick yourself back up. Change is coming.

A/N: Change IS coming, on like... Saturday. That's when the choice is! I'm letting you know now that the choice is a weird mundane choice that will change the story! Also, it's almost my birthday, and all I want is more free time to write y/n and these boys LOL. Hope you are all well. Smooches. (title is from a song called believe in nothing, i steal many titles from song lyrics)

Part 28 Part 30 Chapter Index

Your eyes fluttered open.

Your head was splitting but the stone ceiling was at least familiar.

What happened?

Everything was fuzzy. You tried sit up, but your body was too heavy and your arms too weak. Your fingers were tingling and numb, your muscles sore as if they had gone unused for weeks.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Chen’s voice came from your right, but this was not the infirmary. Your stomach was in knots and your shoulder was stiff. You sat up to greet your friend anyway, but your body objected with pain. “Whoa, whoa, hey slow down!” Chen carefully helped you lay back and then propped your head up a bit higher when you tried to sit up again. You were in your room. You hadn’t recognized it immediately.

You were confused.

“Why?” You choked out and then cleared your throat. Your mouth tasted like you hadn’t talked in just as long as your body hadn’t been used. Chen looked nervous and weary, like she hadn’t slept in just as long. “Why do I feel like this?”

“What exactly do you remember?” Chen hesitated. You closed your eyes and tried to remember how you’d gotten there.

That was right. It had been chaos.

“Everything went to hell when I touched the artifacts and…” You knitted your brow and tried to remember. “Oh, god, then Raiden tried to read me and that’s… that’s all I remember.” Your shoulder ached at the memory. There had been nothing else after that. Only pain.

“That was… Y/N, that was three days ago.” Chen braced herself for your panicked response. You stayed silent. Three days? How was that possible? It had felt like both a blink and an eternity of pain and darkness.

“What?” Your stomach dropped and it occurred to you now that there was an IV in your arm. Chen had likely been there the whole time keeping an eye on your vitals and making notes. There was a bedroll on the ground nearby as if to validate your thoughts. Why there? Why weren’t you in the infirmary? You already knew the answer.

You were too dangerous.

Three days was too long to be unconscious.

Your hands were still tingling. That was right. Raiden had shocked you because you had nearly killed Liu Kang and Kung Lao.

“Is Liu okay? Kung Lao?” Whatever had happened to you was less important.

“One thing at a time, Y/N.” Chen tried to urge you to lay back as you tried to sit up, but you shoved her hand away. “Please lay down. You need to take it easy, okay? You had… a little just… don’t panic when I say it, okay?”

“Tell me and then I’ll decide if it warrants panic or not.”

“I don’t want to make you any worse.”

“You not telling me is making it worse.”

“Just try to remember that it’s more complicated than what I’m about to say.”

“Would you just say it already?”

“You had a heart thing.”

You froze. Your ears were suddenly ringing. A heart thing? What kind of heart thing? What did that mean? You let Chen help you lay back down so you could focus on taking calm and deep breaths. Chen was checking your pulse on your wrist and watching you with concerned dark eyes.

A heart thing.

You were young! Healthy! Or at least you had been before those assholes had broken into your dojo and turned your life upside down. This wasn’t fair.

You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath until Chen was shaking your arm to remind you to breathe. You exhaled and your lungs ached in response. They’d been deprived of too much oxygen too many times now. You finally turned back to Chen whose brow was set in a permanent line of concern.

“Are you okay?”

“You said it was more complicated. How?”

“It wasn’t a heart attack. It was a cardiac incident. You don’t… there are no blockages or anything causing it, but…”

“Isn’t it still the same thing? Heart fails?” You didn’t know much about medicine but you’d seen enough bad Korean dramas to know that the two things were similar.

“It’s different, okay? Your heart is strong, Y/N. You’ll recover. It’s just going to take a bit.”

“I am so fucking tired of my fucking body just… fucking betraying me. Fuck. Just… fuck.” You wanted to rub your hand over your face but you felt so weak that you could have screamed in frustration if you had the energy. Instead, you continued to swear beneath your breath. Chen covered her mouth and laughed, her cheeks pink. Really? That made her blush? She could make dick jokes all day long but swear words made her blush? “I can’t seem to catch a fucking break.”

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. I promise.” Chen had a rare moment of seriousness and offered your hand a comforting squeeze.

“I know.” You heaved a sigh and closed your eyes, taking a few deep cleansing breaths. “I know.” You finally calmed and were able to lift your hand enough to rub over the gauze on your shoulder. It was aching. “I just had to get it out of my system.”

“I get it.” Chen pulled your hand away from the gauze. “Careful with that, please. I’m still trying to get that thing under control and understand what it is.”

“It’s the crack from that godforsaken bell Kung Lao and I found in Japan.” You said in a mocking tone that made Chen laugh again. You should have left the damn things where they were. Things had only escalated far beyond your control since you’d gotten back. You’d felt like you’d made progress before then. “Can you help me sit up?”

“I heard that part of the story. We’re trying to figure out what kind of a connection could cause that. Raiden’s still going with curse. Going with god-curse now actually.”

“Oh. Great.” You let Chen help you sit up and then scooted back against the pillows that Chen adjusted for you. You leaned your head back against the cold stone of the wall behind the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken tremendous effort to sit upright but you felt better now that you had. If you hadn’t used your body in three days, it would take some getting used to your muscles being used again. Thankfully, it hadn’t been any longer.

“Yeah, I imagine that can’t mean anything good. He didn’t tell me much more, just that it was important to tend to it and report any changes. I don’t think I was supposed to hear everything that I did.” Chen tended to the mess of medical supplies that she had set on the floor by your desk.

“You’re good at that.”

“Sometimes being a gossip comes in handy, Y/N.”

“You didn’t answer me before. Are Liu and Lao alright?”

“Lao’s fine. Not even a scrape. He’s proud of that.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “Liu needed a few stitches but he’ll heal up in no time. He’s resilient. Doesn’t ever complain. It’s sweet how worried you are for them.” You weren’t sure that you would ever forget the way that his blood had felt splattering on your skin. You’d been the one to hurt him. He’d been trying to save you from yourself and it had backfired. He’d tell you not to feel guilty but you felt guilty, dammit. There was no way around it. They had been so angry with Raiden for pushing you but you had volunteered to do what you did. It was important even if it had been the wrong choice. You hoped they weren’t losing their minds over you being out for so long. If you had been waiting on one of them to wake up then you would have been going completely crazy.

You wanted them to be okay.

“Thank you.” You were grateful that Chen was there to reassure you and take care of your health. You guessed that Chen had probably volunteered since you were considered dangerous.

“Happy to help, Y/N.” Chen smiled sympathetically. “I’m so relieved to see you awake, I can’t begin to tell you how much. And not just because Kung Lao has been here about a hundred times. He keeps asking to come in. How you’re doing. If he could take over for me for a while. I told him that I’d let him know when you were awake and he doesn’t listen.” Chen clicked her tongue in amusement. You rolled your eyes so hard that Chen snorted. Sweet but typical of him. “Liu came by exactly once and I told him the same thing. He took my word for it. So, par for the course with those two.”

“Sounds about right.” You leaned your head back against the wall again and closed your eyes. God, this was a mess. A cardiac thing? God-curse? There was a mark on your body that mimicked the crack in a cursed object. You’d been nearly choked to death by some gross pale demon-man and you’d maimed Liu Kang. Again.

Where was the line?

Would there ever be an end to this?

Guilt.

You were so tired of guilt.

And pain.

You would gladly take the pain for the rest of your life if it meant keeping the people that you cared about safe from whatever this was. You held your head in your hands and massaged your temples.

“Don’t get in a funk about this, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t argue with Chen, but you wondered if this ended in your inevitable death. It didn’t feel like things were getting better. They had escalated violently in the last few days. No matter what control you’d had over your arcana, when you lost control? You lost it to a point where it was dangerous to be around you. Was it fair for you to still be there?

You were putting them all in danger.

Was it fair to consider Liu Kang or Kung Lao’s advances when you were such a danger to them? When it suddenly felt unlikely that you would survive this?

It felt particularly cruel to connect with Kung Lao again after years of having thought he was dead. To have him back only for things to wind up like this. And for Liu Kang, a man you had an insane draw to, unlike any you had ever felt. You’d hurt him now so many times. You knew he was strong but how long until you accidentally hurt him beyond repair? Chen took some vials of blood and you felt almost instantly nauseated at the sight of it. You fanned your face and were grateful to find that your body was adjusting to being used again. Chen helped you stretch and stand and get used to your body again before helping you back down and removing the IV.

“Do you know what will make you feel better?”

“Sleep?”

“I mean, yes, but also… getting you crazy drunk and then having one of those boys come over here to take care of you.” Chen made air quotes and you whined in response. You’d almost forgotten that Chen’s brain lived only in the gutter. “You just have to pick your poison. Kung Lao or Liu Kang.”

“I know that you’re joking but I still feel compelled to tell you that’s a bad idea right now.” If you drank right now, then you would wind up a sobbing disaster of a human being wallowing in self-pity. You didn’t need that right now and neither did either of them.

No matter how you tried to push it away, you couldn’t get it out of your head that this was how you died.

It felt very unfair.

“I need to see you smile, Y/N.” Chen’s voice was dripping with concern. She clasped her hand over yours. “Please?”

“I can’t pretend to do that right now, Chen. I’m still processing that three days have gone by. I’m still processing what happened in there and what any of it could mean. This was supposed to give me answers and all I have are more questions and every fuck up is more violent than the last.”

“We’ll get your answers, Y/N. It’ll be okay. Raiden is going to find a way.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t necessarily agree. Raiden was a God. You were sure that if he knew your existence was putting them all in danger then he would do what was necessary to stop that from happening. Not that you thought that he wanted that for you. He would try to help but there was only so much anyone could do. You assumed he saw a picture bigger than just your life.

“Y/N…” Chen looked to you seriously. “I don’t like this.”

“Wow, really? Because I am having a great time.”

“What an unhealthy coping mechanism.”

“Don’t judge me. It’s working.”

“Is it though?” Chen smiled sadly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I need to get out of bed and get used to my body again.”

“You should rest a bit longer.”

“I’ve been doing nothing but resting for three days, Chen.” You wanted to do something, anything to feel in control of your body. Chen studied you nervously but then offered you a nod. Together you worked your body just enough to help you get used to being awake and moving around. There was so little that you could control that it felt good to have something small. Chen was willing to help you even if she had tried to get you to slow down. You refused and pushed through it. You knew your limits.

You wanted to feel like yourself and break the fog hanging over you.

After some time, Chen forced you to stop and you rested your hand over your sore shoulder. You could feel your heart beating beneath it. Everything hurt but it only made you want to fight harder to get past whatever this was. You wouldn’t let it win. You wouldn’t let that thing win. It had frightened you for a few minutes and, truthfully, it still scared the hell out of you, but the fear no longer crippled you. You were determined to beat it.

You were not going to die because of this.

“What’s this?” Chen pointed to the wilting flower on the desk next to your journal. You thought that you were much like that flower now. An unfortunate parallel, you thought. Chen was cleaning up some of her medical things and putting them into a small bag after rolling up her bed.

“Just a sweet trinket.” You smiled fondly at the flower. It was pretty, even wilting.

“Liu Kang? Seems like something he would do. Finding beauty in things that are even temporary or some nonsense.”

“It does sound like him but it was actually Kung Lao.”

“Is that so?” Chen pulled out the desk chair and sat. “Can’t say that I can picture him giving anyone a flower. And no offense, but I don’t picture you as much of a flower getting kind of girl, either.”

“And exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, then?” You laughed in surprise. Chen perked up when she heard you laugh.

“You seem more like a grand-gesture kind of girl. Not really a material things girl.”

“Nice save, Chen.”

“We’re off topic. The flower. Focus, Y/N.”

“Oh, right.” You picked up the flower, twisting the stem carefully between your thumb and forefinger. It was still hanging on. There was some life left in it. Not much though. “It’s just something from when we were kids. It was the last time I’d seen him. He gave it to me before we said goodbye and then… he died. Well, at least I thought he had died. Still wrapping my brain around that one.” You set the delicate thing on the desk again.

“Yeah, that’s a big thing.”

“Off topic again though. When he returned from his errand for Raiden, he had found me another. I need to press it between the pages of the journal or something.”

“…you are talking about Kung Lao, right?” Chen seemed skeptical.

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculously sweet. I’m having a hard time associating it with him.” Chen looked to the flower suspiciously as if she thought you were making up stories to tease her.

“Well, presumably the original flower was burned up in the fire so… it was nice of him to get me another. Not that he would have known I kept it. I guess it had been as important to him as it was to me.”

“You still had the original one?”

“Yeah. I had pressed it between the pages of my favorite book and got special paper to protect it. I hadn’t opened it in years but I assume it’s been burned to a crisp.” You felt the weight of your truth settling on your shoulders. Your life was gone. This wasn’t some crazy vivid dream that you’d eventually recover from. That life was over. There were moments where you missed the monotony but you were also grateful that it had happened to you and not to someone else. You had never fit in back home. Everyone else had belonged there. This was a better place for you.

“And you’re sure that this was Kung Lao, right?”

“I’m positive.” You laughed. Kung Lao definitely didn’t come off as sweet to most people, you realized. It was kind of adorable that it was just for you.

“You were really hung up on him, huh?”

“That’s a different life now, Chen. I thought he was dead. I cherished the little time we had.” Your ran your fingers through your messy hair. It was getting too long.

“Have you thought about going back? To see what happened?”

“I have,” you answered honestly. “But it’s a bad idea, I think. I killed people that night, Chen. And then there was the fire. They probably think that I’m dead. It’s not wrong to assume that either. Part of me died that day. I’m different. I can’t go back to being that woman and I can’t risk being seen.” You had put distance between the woman you had been and the woman you had become. You’d had to. It had been the only way to cope. “I’ve been nervous to talk about it. I can’t explain why.”

“You should probably ask Kung Lao to explain what happened.”

“Yeah, he just loves having a serious conversation. But you’re right. I’m ready to find out, I think.” Of all the crazy things that had happened in your life that one didn’t seem so crazy anymore. After what had happened in Raiden’s chamber, after maiming Liu, after having a heart thing, you could handle what had happened in your hometown.

“I didn’t quite understand the hang up that you had with Kung Lao. He’s such a… difficult man to get along with when you do what I do. But I suppose that I can see it now, knowing a bit more about the history between you two.” Chen admired the flower. “That’s a deep connection. He’s sweet to you… which I find difficult to believe so you must be special to him. Where with Liu…”

“Chen…” You turned your gaze. “Can we not talk about this right now? I know that you’re trying to make me laugh but I’m… I’m scared and my brain is having a hard time with all of this. Tomorrow, I promise, that all bets are off. You can tease me as much as you want but for right now, I need a break.”

“I get it.” Chen smiled and then got up, sat next to you on the bed, and wrapped her arms around you in a comforting hug. “I really do, Y/N.” She held you for a moment before you finally returned the hug. It felt strange to be hugged but nice. No romantic conflict involved. No stress about what it might mean. Just a hug. Comfort. You sniffled, not realizing that your eyes were misty with tears until then.

After Chen pulled back, you wiped your eyes and cleared your throat.

“This is only because you’re in such a state, Y/N. Trust me. Tomorrow? I’m back to pestering you.” Chen scolded and you smiled. “Besides, I wanted to bring up something more serious before I left anyway.”

“Oh, good. Serious with you never ends well for me.”

“It’s not anything medical. I gave you all the news there was to give for that. But with… everything that’s happened? People are starting to talk about it. I mean, they already were to an extent but more about how… scary it is.” Chen avoided your eyes and you felt a familiar and unpleasant frustration in the pit of your stomach. Gossip. “I just wanted to brace you for it. You might get some looks while you’re out and about. Raiden wouldn’t let me keep you in the infirmary just in case something happened. I’ve never seen him so worried, Y/N. It scared us a little.”

You figured Raiden was worried that you’d hurt someone and there was the confirmation. You had hurt someone. You’d hurt Liu. Three times now. You nodded in understanding. People usually feared what they didn’t understand. You were afraid of it too but you couldn’t exactly hide from what was happening. “I can’t blame him for being concerned. I hurt Liu.”

“Oh, no, Y/N.” Chen seemed surprised by your assumption. “He was worried for you, Y/N. I’m sure that our safety was part of his concern but he thought that a familiar and comforting space might help you. I think he’s worried that the heart thing was his fault.” Chen wiggled her fingers and made a sound to imitate the crack of lightning. You hadn’t considered that. You also hadn’t taken Raiden for the sentimental type. He’d come across as a fatherly man, you supposed, but your father hadn’t been sentimental so your idea of that was skewed. “I just wanted to warn you about the gossip and reassure you that it comes from a place of concern. We really like you, Y/N. You make time for us when many wouldn’t. They’re scared for you but also for themselves.”

“I get that.” You weren’t sure what to say about it. This was all too familiar. You felt so guilty that you weren’t sure how you were going to overcome it. The gossip wouldn’t help, you were sure. Your shoulder ached at the memory. It wasn’t as bad as it had been initially. Chen had briefly showed it to you while changing your bandages. It was literally a crack. “Thanks for the heads up, Chen. You’re always looking out for me.”

“I’m happy to.” Chen sounded nervous and you felt the woman’s gaze flitter from you to the door. “I’m afraid to leave you alone like this. I don’t… I feel like you’re not okay, Y/N.”

“I’m okay, Chen. I promise.” You reassured her. You knew you sounded morose. “I know I don’t sound it, but I’m okay. I’m so grateful that you were here when I woke up. You’re wonderful, even if I give you a hard time about teasing me.”

Chen smiled and offered you another quick hug. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. You’re going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will. I’m going to be fine.” You did your best to sound sincere. You knew that you tended to come off as sarcastic and while you weren’t feeling your best right now, you had to believe that you would be okay. Belief was an incredibly powerful thing, more so than you had ever realized before coming to Raiden’s Temple. “You can go. I promise that I’m okay.”

“I’m trusting you, Y/N. Try and take it slow today. I’ll be in and out to check in on you. I expect you to rest for a few days before going back to the crazy nonsense you’ve been up to.”

“I’ll do my best but I’m not good at sitting and doing nothing. I’m probably going to stretch a bit more before I rest for the night. Maybe take a walk. I promise that I won’t overdo it.” You bowed your head in respectful gratitude. Chen gave you one more hug before leaving you alone. After she left, you meditated and exercised. You needed to be okay.

You would keep fighting until you had nothing left.

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