#I have a SECOND idea for later lyrics in the same song | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taevbears · 2 months

Text

Pandora's Box

Keep a fire burning, however small; however hidden

⤑ pairing: Hoseok x reader ⤑ genre: angst, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 3.1k ⤑ warnings: ANGST, mention of alcohol and drug use, depression, self-sabotage and unhealthy coping, non-explicit sex, unhappy ending. ⤑ note: Happy Hobi Day! I've been wanting to write a JITB-inspired fic for Hobi since forever (it's probably my favorite solo concept), and this idea has been sitting in my drafts since forever lol. I initially wanted it to be a scary one-shot, but it ended up being a very sad one-shot instead lol. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

You notice it as soon as you walk in.

Sitting on the coffee table is a box. Simple in design. Colored white.

You know that opening it, however, will unleash a whole myriad of demons you’re not ready to face.

The first is the one called Lust.

The fateful night you met Jung Hoseok is a blur. Music at the party you wound up in is so loud, you could feel the vibrations of the deep base through the walls. A hip-hop song is playing, but you could barely make out the lyrics over the thrumming booms of the stereo.

A haze of grey smoke fills the room, distinct with the acrid scent of cigarettes and weed. In the fog, you’ve found your friend sitting on the couch, curled up against the guy she’s been dating on and off. At the moment, the two of them are very much on again, making out with little regard to everyone and everything else around them.

In the meantime, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve refilled the red, plastic cup in your hands, downing hard liquor and letting the alcohol burn your throat, but you go into the kitchen to get more.

That’s when you notice he’s been looking at you. When you catch his gaze, he offers a friendly smile. And when you return it, he approaches you.

“I’m Hoseok,” he introduces himself, raising his voice so you could hear him over the music and the chatter. He stands close enough that you could smell his cologne. A mix of woody tones with notes of spice and citrus. “What’s your name?”

He’s cute, you think, as you tell him your name. And funny, you add to yourself, as he later says something to make you laugh.

You like him, you realize as your hand finds his and you start to lead him upstairs to look for an empty room.

You don’t remember much about the night you met Hoseok. Can’t recall a word you said to each other, or what he did to make you fall for him so fast.

But even in your drunken haze, you remember the heat of his kiss, the way his fingers teasingly slipped beneath your clothes as you eagerly unbutton his pants, and the subtle bite of his lip when you push him to the bed and strip off the rest of your clothes.

“I like you, Hoseok,” you confess, cheeks flushed. Probably from the alcohol.

Hoseok chuckles.

He grabs your elbow and pulls you closer until you’re hovering over him. He kisses you one more time, so sweetly you think you could melt. Then, he suddenly flips you over with your back to the bed. A glint of mischief is in his eyes as he leans down over you.

“I think I like you too.”

The second is Greed.

After that night, you and Hoseok met up several times.

The first couple of times were almost repeats of the first night. You find each other at a party, seeming to share some of the same circles of friends and acquaintances. You could barely see straight when you hear Hoseok calling you, and you burst out in laughter because you’re genuinely surprised he remembers your name.

“Of course I remember you,” he assures you, flashing a bright, flirty smile. It almost falters with nerves when he asks, “Do you remember me?”

“How could I forget?” you tease back, taking his hand in yours again.

It feels better the second time. And by the third, when you’re just waking up from a throbbing headache, you’re surprised to see he’s still in the room with you, long after the party is over.

“I can give you a ride home if you want,” he offers. You have too much of a migraine to decline.

By the time he pulls up at your place, he gives you his number. Just in case you need to call him for another ride or anything else.

“Thanks, Hoseok.”

“No problem,” he replies, and there’s a look in his eyes that makes you feel uncomfortable. It’s kind. It’s hopeful. It’s something you’re not quite expecting from him. “Be sure to call me, okay?”

“Sure, Hoseok. Thanks again.”

He leaves it at that.

Even though you said you would, you don’t call him. Not until your friend dramatically breaks up with her boyfriend again and ditches you at a party out of town. Everyone else in your contacts is busy that night with work and other obligations. When you see his number, you hesitate for a brief moment before you tap to call.

“Hello?”

You instantly regret it. He sounds like he’s asleep.

“Actually, never mind. I can just call someone else,” you backtrack out loud, thinking, perhaps, a taxi or something would be a better idea. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“No, it’s fine,” he assures you, seeming to realize who is calling him in the middle of the night. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”

Hoseok drives all the way to get you. Even with the empty roads, it’s at least an hour drive one-way. It’s a sobering moment when he finally pulls up and greets you with a warm smile.

“Are you hungry? I can buy you food and pay for gas,” you offer once you’re in the car. You feel like you owe him that much.

“How about a date instead?” Hoseok counters, and again, he has that hopeful look in his eyes. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow night.”

If there was a perfect moment to tell him you aren’t interested in a relationship right now – that all the partying and drinking is to numb your mind from your own problems and stresses – this would be it. Clearly, he wouldn’t go out of his way and come this far if he isn’t interested in you.

And Hoseok seems like a good guy. You shouldn’t be stringing him along like this.

But you’re selfish. And that selfish part of you smiles and says, “Sounds good. What should I wear tomorrow?”

Next is Envy.

Jung Hoseok, as you’ve learned, has it all. A loving family with a pet dog. A close group of friends who are like a second family to him. A great sense of fashion, and talent in dancing that could make him a worldwide star. He’s passionate about the things he wants, driven for the things he wants to achieve, and humbled despite his ambitious achievements.

It becomes apparent to you, very early on in your relationship, that he’s a man out of your league. Someone too good to be true.

You’re… undeserving of someone like him.

“You’re so nice to me.”

Hoseok smiles, but looks a bit confused as he peers up from the menu. For the first date, he decided on something fancy. A dinner with a view, where the waiters serve imported wine, and the dishes look like edible pieces of art. You’re both dressed well, blending with the other couples and groups in the surrounding tables.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks you, a bit taken aback by your statement. “I like you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” you quietly counter. The insecurities are getting the best of you. While Hoseok could make a name for himself, you’re just a nobody. Lost in life and without ambition. You waste your days numbing yourself from the mundane and loneliness.

What could someone like you possibly offer to someone like him?

Then, Gluttony.

Honestly, for a while, you didn’t know what you and Hoseok were doing. When you first met him, there was only one thing you wanted. And somehow, that became something more.

Somehow, Hoseok continues to meet up with you and take you to nice places. He doesn’t expect sex from you every time either. It’s like he genuinely likes to hang out with you.

Once, he took you to an aquarium. You didn’t even think you cared about fishes and marine animals, but your eyes widen in awe when you see the luminescent glow of jellyfishes in the tanks. The corner of your lip lifts into a small smile when you see Hoseok clapping his hands and laughing when a sea lion claps its fins back at him. And you actually laughed when you dared Hoseok to touch a stingray at the petting station, and he nearly fainted when the tip of his fingers brushed against its back.

Another time, the two of you end up at a local diner after a party, a little drunk and a little high. The two of you order too many burgers and fries and decide to eat them by his car in the empty parking lot. Perhaps you were still intoxicated. Perhaps the food wasn’t doing anything to help you sober up fast enough, but you end up sharing more about yourself than you ever intended to that night. And Hoseok is quiet as he listens, not once judging you for every bad decision you’ve ever made. In fact, he tells you that he thinks the same sometimes – that he isn’t all rainbows and sunshine like you initially thought he’d be.

Then, there was the day he took you to the mall. He seems very adamant about couples clothes and making sure he matches with you whenever you two go out. It’s a bit embarrassing for you, if you were honest, but he seems to like it a lot when you’d color coordinate with him or if you’d wear the top for the matching set of his pants. An elderly woman is in line behind you two when you take a break from shopping to grab some pretzels and drinks when she comments that you look like a cute couple.

It hits you right then and there that you and Hoseok are a couple.

You’ve been showing up at his dance rehearsals and shows. He’s introduced you to his friends and you’ve all hung out at the beach. He comes to pick you up from work and take you to his place, which slowly but surely has a lot of your stuff in his space now.

Neither of you ever made the relationship official though. Yet, Hoseok smiles at the elderly woman, practically beaming as his hand tightens around yours and thanks her.

You don’t know what you are to Hoseok – if he really sees you as his girlfriend, someone he’s just dating but not that serious about, or maybe just a friend he’s intimate with – and you’re not sure what comes next.

The two of you find a spot to sit down, and you watch as he snaps pictures of the pretzels first before holding up the phone to take a picture of you and him together. As you pose for the camera, you could see how the two of you really do look like a couple. Matching clothes and all.

Whatever you are to Hoseok, and whatever he is to you, perhaps it’s okay to indulge in it while it still lasts. Even if a small, tiny, selfish part of you yearns for more.

And then, Wrath.

Since the beginning of your relationship, you’ve been quietly counting down the days until it’s over. When Hoseok would find someone else and move on, just like any other lover you’ve dated. He’s too good to you, too kind. And you’ve been heartbroken and jaded one too many times to know that an inevitable end will come.

Even when an anniversary becomes two.

Even when he introduces you to his parents, and has started looking for a house you can move in together.

Even when his friends start to tease him and ask when they can expect an invitation to his wedding with you.

You’ll always fuck it up somehow.

“I don’t know why you’re so angry with me,” Hoseok tells you, exasperated. His patience seems to be running thin. “Did I do something wrong?”

It’s frustrating for both of you. Your suspicions. Your insecurities. Nothing good happens to you. A little voice in your head nags that you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him.

And there’s nothing he can do to prove to you otherwise.

“I think we need to end this,” you find yourself saying. Words that you don’t mean, but they fall out of your lips anyway. From self-sabotage. From pain. From fear.

“You don’t mean that,” Hoseok calls your bluff. He doesn’t look angry or upset, but it seems like he expected this. The disappointment seems to hurt more than if he were to lash out on you.

Tears are brimming in your eyes, threatening to spill, but you refuse to cry. Not in front of him. You keep pushing him away, hoping he’d wake up and realize what you’ve always known – that he’s too good for you. That you’re the wrong person to share a future with.

“Just go,” you demand, your voice soft, barely a command.

You expect him to fight for you, like he always does. The back and forth breakups to make ups has become a vicious, toxic cycle lately.

“Fine.”

You’re stunned when you see him get off the couch and quickly walk out the door without another glance at you. This is what you want, right? It feels cruel to have expected him to stay.

And as your tears finally fall, a part of you – the part that truly, desperately loves him – hates you even more.

Sloth.

That is a demon that stayed with you the longest.

Your heart feels heavy after the fight. So heavy, it feels troublesome to move. To eat. To think. All you want to do is rot away in your bed and sleep.

“Come on,” Hoseok’s voice gently calls for you. He opens the blinds to your bedroom, letting sunlight spill in. “I got the bath ready for you. Let’s wash up and I’ll make you something to eat.”

You close your eyes again, scowling with your face pressed against the pillow. Maybe you’re dreaming. A hallucination of your lover that your mind imagined, prompting you to get up and face the world already.

Or maybe Hoseok is just really too kind.

You get your answer when you feel his hands pull you away from the safety of your covers, and he helps you to the bathroom. He's picked up the empty bottles of beer and soju that littered around the room, you note, seeing them neatly put in plastic bags. The warm water feels soothing against your skin, and you soon feel his fingers run through your hair and massage your scalp.

You don’t say anything to him then.

You don’t say anything as he helps you dress up into something comfortable and sits you at the table. Groceries you don’t remember buying sit on the counter. He must have gotten them before he stopped by.

It’s only after he sets down a bowl of stew he made that you finally speak.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, your voice so soft, you don’t think he heard you.

You’re undeserving of this. You’re undeserving of him.

Even now, that little voice in your head taunts that.

“I like you,” Hoseok simply answers, sitting next to you with his own bowl. There’s a sad smile on his face as he continues, “Even if you don’t feel the same.”

You sniffle. The part that loves him wants to scream that he’s wrong.

But the tiresome demon snuffs it out and keeps you quiet and complacent.

And then, there is Pride.

Some would say, it’s the most evil of them all.

Pride keeps you from admitting your mistakes. From saying that you’re wrong. That asking for forgiveness is beneath you, and seeking for help and assurance is weakness.

Hoseok comes and goes often after you two have broken up. A stubborn part of him seems to think he can fix things. That in time, you’ll change your mind and take him back. That you’ll love him again, just as much as he loves you.

Even though, in your heart, you’ve never once stopped.

Pride is the vice that sneaks up on you. One you didn’t think you’d ever have, given the way the others plague your mind.

You only realize it when Hoseok stops visiting as much. When his calls are less frequent. When that look in his eyes that he used to only have for you starts to turn to someone else.

“Are you happy?” you ask when he tells you about her. He doesn’t need to. It isn’t any of your business. But he does anyway.

Because Hoseok loved you once. Perhaps, there will always be a part of him that still cares about you. That still likes you, despite everything.

A small voice in your head tells you to admit your feelings to him now. To tell him that you still love him. That you never stopped thinking about him.

Maybe if you did, things would’ve been different. Maybe if you did, he’d choose you.

But that kind of confession is undeserving of you. It kills you to see Hoseok moving on and loving someone else. But what little pride you have steels you from revealing the truth.

Even as he smiles and tells you, “I am.”

The cruelest one of them all, however, stands before you.

You've been doing better. You've been trying. The drinking and parties have slowed down significantly. The demons that haunt you have quieted down. You and Hoseok are friends, despite everything.

Which is why you end up here, at his place, looking at the white box he has in his hand.

Hoseok smiles and shows you what’s inside the box. Hope is in his eyes as he looks at you.

And a myriad of demons and their vices scatter into your heart all at once.

Lust makes you careless. Throwing yourself away to carnal sins is how you two met, and perhaps, not much else more.

Greed makes you selfish. Makes you want to keep him for yourself, even if you’re the one who broke things off with him.

Envy makes you jealous. What does she have that you don’t?

Gluttony makes you indulgent. All you do is take, take, and take. You don’t give anything back, and that’s why he deserves more.

Wrath makes you angry. You want to scream, throw something at him, make it known that you’re upset. That you’re still in love with him.

Sloth makes you complacent. Despite your fury, you could do nothing. This is all your fault, after all.

Pride makes you a liar. You refuse to let Hoseok know how hurt you are.

And hope … Hope has you clinging to him, even now. It makes your heart yearn – that small, tiny part of you that keeps fighting for him. That keeps reminding you that you love him. Even as he stands before you with an engagement ring inside the white box.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

You force yourself to smile, hoping that it doesn’t reflect the way your heart shatters. Hoping that, for a brief second, he’d look at you and say that he loves you still.

“She’ll love it, Hoseok.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#pandora's box os #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jhope x reader #jhope x you #bts angst #jhope angst #jhope fanfic #jhope fic #hoseok angst #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fic #hoseok oneshot #jhope oneshot

92 notes · View notes

starsomens · 4 months

Note

this is for my ✨ bilingual girlies ✨ I am one which is why this can be grammatically incorrect but whatever

Noah finds your accent ADORABLE. and HOT of course. like, he can listen to you for hours noticing how certain words and/or syllables here and there in your speach sound different from what he's used to hear and it hits the right spot for him;

with that being said, he still jockingly mocks you from time to time trying to do impressions of the way you speak. he never takes it to far though, so it's just an ongoing banter which you gladly paticipate in, intentionally making your accent sound harsher from how you "normally" speak;

and you and Jolly cooperate in making Noah lose his mind with your accents. Hoah goes like "guys, human throats are not designed to reproduce such insane sounds, what planet are you both from?"

you melt when he lovingly says "you're so special, you're out of this world" only to roll your eyes three seconds later when he continues "seriuosly, you're a fucking alien, the more you talk the more I'm sure of it. I won't turn you in though, you're mine now";

he also makes fun of you when you misspell in your texts to him. "darling, are you okay? is everything alright or you having a stroke? should we call an ambulance or an English teacher?":

also, did you know your voice sounds not the same when you speak different languages? no? oh, trust me, HE KNOWS. it never stops to amuse him how suddenly your voice switches to softer and huskier or goes higher and cuter depending of the language. to him it's basically the same kind of "magic" (you call it that) he uses when he sings switching registers, so yeah, your voice is music to his ears. and he loves that more than anything;

sometimes you forget certain words or mix them up and it makes you feel awkward and embarressed. you're afraid that you speak gibberish instead of proper English. especially in front of Noah with his sophisticated way of expressing his thoughts. but not only he ALWAYS knows what you're trying to say, he also makes you feel less in your head about it. for example, he makes up silly stories about him saying the wrong words at the wrong circumstances and embarrassing the heck out of himself (and you're sure it never happened, but he wants to cheer you up so you play along) or he turns your mistakes into something special for the two of you, like an inside joke or a secret code (remember that cringy "I wolf you" line from You? yep, that's what I'm talking about). so when he shows you his new song which is his personal love anthem to you and the greatest thing he's ever written to this day and you say it's terrible instead of terrific, he looks as proud as he only can be and jokingly says he tried his best to make it the worst song in the history of music. from now on all of his song are "terrible". and all about you, of course;

remember when he said that Jolly comes up with the greatest lyrics without realizing it because he thinks in Swedish? same applies to you. it truly fascinates Noah to hear you saying the most beautiful genius things based on some sayings in your first language. he takes inspiration from that and includes it in his lyrics without saying that and you realize it afterwards when you hear him singing it;

he's for sure secretly learning your language just to surprise you all of the sudden. like, you two have a movie night date on your big comfy couch, he brushes his fingers through you hair and says "I love you" in your language and you automatically reply back the same way and then go "wait, did you just..?" and he sits there smiling from ear to ear and being so hella proud of himself, throwing at you one compliment in your mother tongue after another. and you have no idea when or how he managed to learn it all but it makes you love him even more;

which is why the next thing he'll learn from you will be the dirty talk. oh god, help us all lol

ANON SHIT UP RN

COME TO MY HOUSE SO I CAN GIVE U KISSES STOOPPPPPPP OMG MY HEART

So I was born here, but I want to say that, technically my first language was Spanish. I spent a lot of time with my grandmother and I had heard from someone that the way you express your emotions, whatever language you use is your first language, which I thought was a very cool concept. And a lot of times there are words that I don’t know in English so I just resort to Spanish but oh my God literally made me smell so big I’m at work and the noise I let out was crazyOMMGGGGG

I was going to write a small story on this, but you beat me to the punch, but I’m not complaining. I will add onto this later on thank you thank you thank you thank you again.🩷🩷🩷🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

#bad omens #noah sebastian #star’s anons✨#bad omens cult #noahsebastian #badomens #bad omens band #noah sebastian x reader

85 notes · View notes

fob4ever · 5 months

Text

patrick stump & neal avron on tape notes podcast (12.15.23)

songwriting stuff, demos, lyric process, a bunch of things! they talk about the songs lftos, heaven iowa and smfsd.

long summary under the cut!

talked about how they sat outside “emo” because they leaned more towards hiphop/rnb, but also how they didn’t fit in the “pop” genre too and how they would be put on pop shows and “comparatively it was like slayer was playing” lmao “but we’re still a pop band!”

they experimented with reggae and 90s shoegaze and hardcore during the pandemic

they recorded most of stardust together in neal’s house :D at the beginning it was mostly just neal and patrick working together, at the end of the day everybody would come in to listen

patrick said he got “kinda obsessed” with streamlining pete’s lyrics in the chorus over the past few albums: “pete is very wordy. he has all these ideas that take up a lot of space.” and that their manager sat him down at lunch and said “don't do that. you guys used to ramble. why don't you ramble?” and lftos was the first song patrick put together after that convo

lftos writing process: patrick followed what he was feeling, and most of what he did in that song were things that years spent working in pop music had scared him off on doing.

the “every lover's got a little dagger in their hand” lyric tied it all together for patrick: “[i was] singing that line and EAGERLY emailing neal: listen to this!”

they play a little of the lftos demo (16:55). it's wild. VERY guitar-forward

“neal and i lost most of the demos for [folie a deux].” the burning of the library of alexandria. to me

talks about how the folie demos were infinitely stranger than the final versions, “psychedelic at times”

for stardust, they didn't really keep much of the demo stuff- patrick: “and my demos are pretty decent!”

lftos piano demo (21:35)

patrick: i want some drama. when i look back at our records, our best ones start off with a sense of melodrama

they play individual parts of the lftos instrumentation (31:25), andy's drums, pete's bass, joe's guitar. <3

bridges are patrick's favorite thing to write, because he just gets to play

patrick: "pete doesn't even send lyrics in lyric-form, he just sends words. and it's interesting when you see it- it's almost like one-liner after one-liner. and i'll just get an email of those, and then you kinda have to figure out what thematically goes together, what feels like the same song. but then i also try to keep lyrics together as much as possible, because i feel he's in a place where it does feel like one thought."

"when i read it, there's almost a passive thing where i just imagine what it sounds like to me. and [the lyrics for heaven, iowa] scared me a lot, because it felt kind of sparse, and i don't really like sparse- i don't really like singing by myself. [...] i don't like being so front and center, and i could tell that there was something really intimate about this song, and it was a big challenge for me."

everybody immediately went for the heaven, iowa demo- it's from the first stardust session and it took the longest to complete because patrick wasn't satisfied with just his voice over keys- "it was too naked."

patrick doesn't ask pete about lyrics because: "first off, he will not explain things. but second off, i think there is something to that. where i'll read his lyrics, and i'll interpret it one way, and years later i'll realize it's another way. there's so many double entendres that i've only gotten decades later, i'll be singing and go, 'OH it's a sex thing.'"

patrick really attaches to the story of a lyric, the craft of it, and then years later he'll be like "oh that was a HEAVY lyric. [and] pete must have felt that thing! i don't really question it when i'm writing- it's kindof unfair on him, like, should i check on him?"

heaven iowa instrumental demo/instruments isolated (53:30)

patrick would tell joe to "go nuts" on heaven, iowa!

neal talks about the ambient guitar pedal joe plays during heaven iowa and how it worked really well. patrick says this was the kind of thing that saved (the song).

patrick and andy double drummed at the same time in the studio for heaven iowa! <3

pete told joe to go "full slash" at the end of heaven iowa : )

patrick almost didn't send out the demo for the title track, smfsd! he was almost sure no one was going to like it, even though he liked it. but he sent it out, and it "kept surviving"

both patrick and neal brushed smfsd off because they assumed they "couldn't do that", but pete really pushed for it, which surprised patrick.

so much for stardust demo (1:25:07) patrick plays drums on it, sloppily. which he freely admits to lol. it is quite sloppy indeed

patrick: "i'm a drummer too, but andy and i are very different drummers. and it's very cool translating our things between each other, because he comes from metal (...) and i'm more a funk drummer."

lotsa joe layering in heaven iowa and smfsd : )

it was patrick's idea to do a lyrical callback in lftos/smfsd, and pete was hesitant about it. but patrick pushed for it, becasuse it made sense as "story beats"- "it's like 'empire strikes back'!"

patrick doesn't like to putz around the studio that much, he just wants to be recording something.

patrick: "my routine [during the writing of the album] was just to make it to the studio as on time as i can be- i have adhd, it's very difficult- but i'd be there within 10-15 minutes of when i was supposed to be there, and then we'd just work through it."

patrick's advice: FROM ELTON JOHN: when you find your producer that understands you, stick with them. patrick: "and that was on a record we didn't do with neal, and i remember thinking [makes unsure noises]..." also prioritize in the short-term, what's important. take a step back.

neal's advice: if music is your passion, do it, and do it all the time

patrick was afraid people wouldn't like him "rambling" in songs, even though it was honest and natural to him. he was terrified of doing it again, thinking people wouldn't like it. but people did! "don't subvert yourself too much."

the host asks for them to choose a stardust song to close out the podcast, and patrick chooses what a time to be alive :)

the end

#recap #: 3 #i missed doing these #there's also a bunch of technical music stuff they talked about that i didn't put in here because i don't understand <3 love and light

104 notes · View notes

good-beanswrites · 9 months

Text

I talked about my Milgram actors theory earlier, but @amugoffandoms reminded me I also have a little emotional support au version of the idea I’ve been meaning to chat about! It's actually not a typical actors au -- the canon events still happen, but are staged by the in-universe Milgram organization.

(Edit, now with a fic!)

Just like in canon, the organization has a mysterious/supernatural ability to identify and track down ten specific people at their breaking point. In this au, though, it's ten people who could have committed crimes soon. They discreetly reach out to these individuals, requesting for them to be actors in their experiment. They say there will be someone playing a prison guard, and explain the premise. With a bit of coaxing or bribing for a few, they all accept.

Milgram ensures these newfound “prisoners” don’t need to change many details about their lives – the less lies to keep track of, the easier it would be for these ordinary people to pull off such an extensive con.

Some of them are exactly as they were right before their murders, such as Yuno, Fuuta, Muu, and Kotoko. Haruka, his sister, and Amane did go through traumatic abuse, but it was Milgram that pulled them out of the situation before they resorted to murder. Mikoto is/has been aware of his alters for a while at this point.

Some of the others are taken from their lives after things that could have ended fatally turned out alright: Shidou’s family got into an accident but all recovered; Milgram picked up on his private realization that he would have done anything to save them, were the damage worse. Mahiru and Kazui’s partners attempted/considered suicide, but did not succeed. In Mahiru’s case, they reached a friendship despite breaking up. I still don’t know enough about Kazui’s wife, but I like to think they’re pretty separate now.

The ten prisoners weren’t allowed to meet beforehand, but they individually collaborated with the Milgram team to write the lyrics for their t1 songs and film their videos. I'll mention more about the other actors later, but the filming process is a lot of fun. Though the topics confront them with some unsavory thoughts about themselves, it's a good time singing and acting and getting the giggles on set and everything.

Milgram pulls Es from wherever they were for whatever reason, wipes their memory, and drops them into the prison. The prisoners are unaware that Es didn't come willingly, as they all did.

Once the experiment begins, everyone’s interactions that we’ve seen to this point are genuine. The prisoners get to know each other, while they come to terms with the fact that themselves and these others all had murderous potential. Their personalities, behaviors, and stories from their lives are all true. In the interrogations, they speak honestly to Es about their values and choices. The only faked things are the actual references to the murders, and the “invisible force” that they pretend to hit when acting in violence. Mikoto is instructed to use a bit of violence during his interrogation, though Kotoko sneaking in wasn’t scripted – she genuinely had her concerns about his character and acted accordingly.

While Es sleeps after T1, the prisoners are treated the same regardless of verdict. They provide the team with their genuine thoughts about one another to decide what the staged incidents should be. Kotoko doesn’t actually hate the guilty prisoners, but she recognizes she would’ve wanted to take justice into her own hands in a real situation. Amane is very upset but Es' verdict, but the team helps her dramatize her transformation a bit. Haruka and Muu genuinely get that close. Yuno does wish to be left alone.

They film their second trial videos, now allowed to be around the other prisoners as they do so. They also invite people in their life to come in and play their victims. Yes, it’s just as awkward as it sounds. This is where the prisoners do their real reflection – they think about Es’ verdict for them and what they could have been capable of. There’s a bit of relief from both parties knowing that things will turn out alright now that Milgram intervened (ironic, I know, but this is my fix-it hehe). Shidou’s kids are excited to be filmed, not really understanding the context. Haruka once again works with an actor playing his younger self, a bit put off by how similar they look and the memories he bring back. Haruka’s mother, Rei, and Amane’s cult members (if they appear) are some of the only characters played by strangers, though they do look strikingly similar to the real people. Fuuta’s victim is also played by a stranger. Things are still tense with Hinako, but she agrees to appear.

The team helps the prisoners fake injuries with lots bandages and slings. Then they wake Es. The same is repeated for T2/T3.

Now, I’ve played out a few different paths depending on my angst tolerance at the moment – sometimes Es goes through with the third trial verdicts and is forced to watch the executions (not realizing they're cleverly staged). Sometimes they refuse, finding a way to stop the whole experiment. Sometimes the prisoners realize that Es has been an unwilling participant, and bring the experiment to a stop themselves. Sometimes someone jams a wrench in the mv machine and try to blow it up in order for everything to end before final verdicts.

Because of limited details, the ending can play out however one wants. But my go-to is that Es wake up sometime afterwards in a clean facility filled with scientists. They’re brought to an interrogation room – this time on the other side of the questioning. They’re asked about their motivations, actions, emotions, choices, verdicts (or the reason they rebelled at the very end). A few doors down, the prisoners are being asked similar questions of self-reflection and morality.

Es demands to know what’s going on, while the team tries to assure them that the prisoners are all fine. Es doesn’t buy this, though. They know what kind of mind games the experiment has tried to pull, and can’t tell what’s truth or lie anymore. Things get heated as they demand to see the prisoners. Meanwhile, the prisoners are getting worked up asking about Es. If they haven't already, this is when they learn that Es was an actual prisoner there the whole time. The last time they were together the situation was very intense, and they’re all incredibly worried about them.

In the end, they manage to break out of their rooms and reunite in the middle of the facility, and Es is shocked. All ten are alive and well, even those they may have seen die. No eyes or limbs are missing. They’re all laughing and getting along, no matter what kinds of fights they got into between trials. Even more shocking is when the victims join them later – also all alive and happy.

The ending has a bit of unavoidable angst since Es would be pretty fucked up by the whole experiment. They’d struggle with trust issues and knowing what’s reality. However, it’s still an overwhelmingly happy ending. They get to befriend the prisoners and their families outside of the painful context they met in. Regretting their ignorance of the situation, the prisoners decide to make up for lost time and spend a lot of positive, quality time with Es. The kids are finally allowed to play, and the they finally let the adults act a bit protective over them. This is when the found family completely kicks in lol. Es gets to sleep easy knowing they are all alive and happy, they receive all their memories again, and they get to return home to their own family.

I added it to a reblog but editing with @/qrevo's tags because this is what I was looking for but couldn't quite pin down to make it healing for Es too:

#milgram #haruka sakurai #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #muu kusunoki #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #amane momose #mikoto kayano #kotoko yuzuriha #es #its not 'the prisoners leave milgram and get therapy' its 'milgram itself is the therapy for the prisoners'#i know the typical actors au would be more of a fix-it but i liked still having a small taste of the canon drama and interactions #its also nice to relate to es' relief -- after ive gone through the angst of canon its nice to imagine everything is okay #so in the au they also go through the angst of canon only to be relieved finding out it was fake and everyone is okay #it also keeps the prisoners lives/personalities the same!#as fun as it is to see actors aus give them whole new personalities offscreen im incredibly attached to these characters and this let me #keep them exactly the same lmao #on days i need the most fluff i picture the prisoners all together filming the t2 mvs -- getting giggly and silly on set #making bloopers and cheering each other on and interacting happily with their 'victims'#when i want intense but good emotions i love thinking of that reunion scene. es exclaiming that fuutas eye is okay and theyre all alright #lots of hugs and tears #(the only details i cant quite work out is how jackalope can talk in this fairly-realistic setting asdfd #that and the undercover mv wouldnt make any sense because es wouldnt have filmed it but ah well)#anyway if anyone has any thoughts or anything lmk! ive been really vibin with this au #analysis/thoughts #lights camera sing your sins

182 notes · View notes

epelletea · 2 years

Text

Your TWST S/O reacts to you singing a familiar tune !! Part 2

Wow I didn’t expect the first part to get a lot of attention so thank you for that!! I decided to do a second part with some more dorms I didn’t do! :) might not do Heartslaybul because I have no idea for it.

Part 1 Part 3

• For context on “Familiar tune” : Basically you sing a song from their story.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

Kalim Al Asim

It is never a dull day with this particular lover. Kalim never fails to make your day always 100x better with his joyful personality.

Oh you’re feeling sad?? Not allowed! Kalim is already preparing a surprise party for you later so he can turn that frown upside down! Sad about failing a test? Don’t worry about it! He’ll help you study along with Jamil to make sure you ace that next test.

Oh? How the tables have turned? Looks it was your turn to cheer your poor lover up.

You find your lover sulking to himself in his room about something? You rarely ever see Kalim upset about anything, he usually always takes himself out of the dumps. But looks like today wasn’t that case.

You tried your best to cooing at him telling him you love him too pecking his face all over with kisses.

But this sour mood just wouldn’t budge.

Sitting there trying to think what could help lighten your boyfriend’s mood. The lightbulb above your head lights up.

“Make way it’s Prince Kalim!~”

Why not cheer him up with a song! You remembered the song ‘Prince Ali’ and thought it would be fitting to cheer him up with. Obviously replacing the Ali part with Kalim.

Cheerfully singing the song to him while performing over the top mannerisms praising him and overall showering him with love.

Kalim’s smile soon crept onto his face once more. Happily watching you perform for him. How adorable!~

He joins in singing with you despite not knowing the full lyrics but regardless he was happy dancing with you.

Mission accomplished! You have successfully made your boyfriend happy again!

At the end of the song, he tackles you with many kisses and cuddles calling you adorable and the most best S/O in the world !!

He does ask you if you made up the song yourself. Not wanting to explain to him the whole ‘I know this song because Aladdin was the one who actually sung it’. You simply agree saying you did make it up yourself.

He now wants you to show the song off to Jamil and the others so they can all hear your wonderful song! Oh dear…

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

Idia Shroud

Nothing feels better than having another video game date with your lovely boyfriend Idia!~

You knew going outside much wasn’t really India’s thing and wanted to respect that. So it’s the small things that matter with him.

But you couldn’t help but getting slightly bored with playing the same game over and over with him but you didn’t want to say that to him. He would be heartbroken.

But at the same time, after you decided to take a break from the game. Idia was still playing however. He seemed to be very focused in on the game. However you wanted attention.

First you started calling out his name, he didn’t budge only let out little ‘hm?’ Every-time you called him. Eyes still glued to the screen.

You have told him out right that you wanted attention and cuddles. But he simply replies with saying ‘Let me finish this round first.’ That one round suddenly turns into 100 rounds.

With a loud ‘Hmph’ you sat there staring at your boyfriend trying to think of ways to get his attention.

Still focused to the game Idia says a quick ‘I love you.’ Signaling that he still loves you despite being focused on the game.

That’s when the idea hits you. You don’t reply back to him which makes Idia pause his game in confusion. He looks back to you offended that you didn’t say I love you back.

Out loud and obviously in the most dramatic way. You decided to sing “I Won’t Say I’m in Love” in response to Idia not giving you attention.

Idia couldn’t help but sit there confuse but most importantly still offended that you won’t say I love you back.

While you performed, he kept whining saying I love you or telling you to say it back.

But the show must go on! Still singing on anyway, you even dodge his advances to try pull you into a cuddle or tried to kiss you on the lips.

Although, Idia does successfully finally trap your in his arms and he’s not letting go this time. Snuggling into the crook of your neck and refusing to move.

“At least out loud, I won’t say I’m in love..”

After you finish the song, he looks up at you with puppy like eyes that you can never resist. Smooching his pretty blue lips over and over reassuring him that you were only joking with him.

He questions you about the song you were singing because he felt like he had heard it before. Perhaps in a game or show? Wanting to keep your little brat attitude up, you decided to tell him that it’s your little secret and he’s going to have to figure it out himself.

You spent the rest of that day cuddling with him. <3

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°

Vil Schoenheit

It’s hard to keep up with your basically celebrity boyfriend Vil. He was usually always busy so you really never got the chance to do dates with him.

But today was the day! You finally were able to get a free day with him! He was free from work and was able to spend the day with his beloved S/O.

It was beautiful outside so why not have a picnic under one of the apple trees?

You decided to sing to yourself to past the time while you set up the picnic.

Singing “Whistle While You Work” due to the ironic atmosphere it only felt fitting to do so. Even the little birdies joined in around you singing with you.

Unknowing that Vil was already on his way.

Vil was dressed absolutely amazing and perfect for your date with him but doesn’t he always look so beautiful?

He hears your voice from the distance and a smile creeps onto his face as he follows the source to the voice.

His heart melts instantly at the scene in front of him.

You singing a duet with the birds around you while you were setting the picnic blanket on the ground. Petting it down for it to be fully straight and perfect.

Not noticing your boyfriend standing in front of you. You continued your song and placing down the picnic basket taking out the entries of baked goods you made for the special occasion.

Instead of calling your name to get your attention. He whistles along with you and sits down on the picnic blanket next to you.

Now noticing another pair of hands in front you. You look up shock to see your Vil staring lovingly at you.

Well wasn’t that quite a lovely surprised.

He takes your hand and places a soft kiss on top of it. Cooing at how adorable you are and how lovely the picnic looks.

Flustered and bashful at his compliments. He asks where you have heard that song?

Vil has heard the song plenty of times before due to someone named “Neige Blanche” that was practically that boy go-to song whenever he had to clean.

Not knowing how to respond, you manage to change the topic and show him each dish that you have baked yourself (with a little help from Trey but he doesn’t need to know that..)

The rest of the date went smoothly and perfectly while you two relished in each other presence.

#twst headcanons #twst fanfic #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #idia shroud #twst imagines #kalim al asim #scarabia #ignihyde #pomefiore #vil schoenheit #writing #headcanon #A Familiar Tune

1K notes · View notes

earlgreytea68 · 4 months

Text

Host: So where did this one start? Patrick: So, uh, typically I kind of just start with Pete's lyrics and see what that inspires me to, you know, how does this sound? You know, when I read this, what do I think this sounds like? Host: And when Pete sends you those lyrics -- So, is Pete working on lyrics all the time? He's just working on lyrical ideas and then -- Does he ever put a tune to it? Or does he send you a blank page? Patrick: No. He doesn't even send me lyrics in lyric form. He just sends words. And it's interesting when you see it. It's almost like one-liner after one-liner. (chuckle) And I'll just get an email of those. And then you kind of have to-- Neal: The Henny Youngman of lyrics? Patrick: (laughs) Yeah. And then you have to -- Kind of. It's like the -- My dad had a Yogi Berra quote book sitting on his coffee table. It's kind of like that, where it's just one-liner, one-liner, one-liner, and you have to figure out what thematically goes together, what feels like the same song. But then also I do try to keep things together as much as possible, because I feel like he's in a place where it does feel like one thought, you know? And, um -- But yeah, when he sends it, that's all he sends. There's no music or anything. And so when I read there's a kind of, for me, almost passive thing, where I read it and just imagine what it sounds like to me. And so this one scared me a lot because it felt kind of sparse, and I don't really like sparse, I don't really like singing by myself, I don't really like -- You know, I like orchestras, I like being one musician out of, you know, hundreds. I don't really like being so front and center, and I could tell there was something really intimate about this song and that was a big challenge for us. Well, for me. Everybody else seemed convinced. As soon as I finished demo-ing it and I sent it out to everybody, everybody went for it. This I think is the first song that we started, or one of the first songs that we started, Neal, when you and I got together. It's from the first session. And, you know, we had done that first session of "are we going to work together?" This came from that first session. But I think we also spent the longest on figuring out how to actually realize it because I wasn't satisfied with just my voice. With just my voice over keys, it was killing me. It was too naked or something. And I needed more of a story happening with the synths and stuff, with the guitars and all of that. So that took us a long time. Host: Interesting. And is Heaven, Iowa a place? Patrick: I believe so. I don't know if it's real or not. I believe it's the place from "Field of Dreams." Pete was really obsessed with "Field of Dreams." There's something in that story that really, like, set his vision for the whole record lyrically, I guess, so I think that's what it is. But I don't ask. I try not to ask about his lyrics because I feel like there's a thing about it where -- First off, he gives you terr -- He will not explain things. But second off, it also kind of -- I think there's something to that, you know? Where I'll read his lyrics and I'll interpret it one way and years later I'll realize it's another way. There's so many double entendres that I've only gotten, you know, decades later. (chuckle) I'll be singing and I'm like, "Oh, it's a sex thing! I didn't catch that." You know? (x) (this is around 45 minutes in)

#patrick stump #pete wentz #peterick #fall out boy #fob

60 notes · View notes

keepingsecretstokeepyoutk · 1 year

Text

High Infidelity - full lyrical analysis ✨

I’ve been thinking about Taylor’s recent steps towards coming out on the eras tour all day, especially her reading of Seven (it’s really been sinking in today on a new level). And in light of her making a clear declaration to her fans about hoping they can accept her, about how they might meet a new version of her that doesn’t match their romanticized idea of her…I want to share my full lyrical analysis of “High Infidelity”.

At a glance: I essentially see this song as a metaphor for her fans finding out who she really is and reacting like a spouse who has been cheated on. She equates her closeting to “infidelity” and imagines the aftermath of revealing her truth, grappling with both the part of her that harbors guilt about the “lying” and half-truths she’s engaged with to stay hidden, and with the part of her that is hurt and frustrated with those who have effectively already rejected her by way of refusing to see what’s right in front of them.

This song has a lot going on, so I’m just going to walk you through my thought process:

My understanding of this song hinges on this lyric in the chorus: “your picket fence is sharp as knives/ I was dancing around, dancing around it”

This line, with it’s suggestion of a suburban setting, gives me some context for the two verses, which to me read as two different situations, both in a domestic setting.

The first verse reads to me as being from the perspective of a younger narrator, (not necessarily Taylor, but an allegorical young woman), maybe a memory of being a teen, at her parents’ house. The second verse reads like the same narrator, as an adult, living in her husband’s house/marital home.

The fact that Taylor has made it very very clear that these songs are autobiographical, and this is her most vulnerable album in years, makes the following lyrics that much more intriguing.

Verse 1:

“Lock broken/ slur spoken/wound open/ game token/I didn’t know you were keeping count/ Rain soaking/blind hoping/you said I was freeloading/ I didn’t know you were keeping count”

“Lock broken/slur spoken” = someone barges into a room with a closed door, and swears. I picture a homophobic parent walking in on their daughter making out with/being intimate with her secret girlfriend, and the ensuing fight.

“Game token” sounds like her sexuality was then something that then got played against her, to make her compliant in other parts of her life. “You’ve disappointed us enough haven’t you? You better x” x could be making perfect grades, being a high achiever in some other way, doing this family thing that makes you uncomfortable, but most of all, x equals staying closeted, hiding the family shame.

“Rain soaking/blind hoping/ you said I was freeloading/ I didn’t know you were keeping count” makes me imagine that maybe months later, she has another conversation with her parents, hoping to make them understand, and instead of coming around, the parents continue to hold her sexuality against her, treating her like someone living with them without paying rent, instead of as just their daughter. Again, their expectations on her in every other aspect of life are higher to “make up for” them allowing her to continue living under their roof.

Verse 2:

“Storm coming/good husband/Bad omen/Dragged my feet right down the aisle/at the house lonely/good money/I’d pay if you just know me/Seemed like the right thing at the time”

“storm coming” means the consequences of getting found out/ outed. The same allegorical woman from the first verse married a man that she didn’t love because she was afraid of living her truth and the potential consequences (= the storm). But doing so has left her lonely, isolated, and empty, and she regrets her decision.

I think Taylor is using this narrative arc outlined in the verses to tell her own story.

The first verse represents getting found out by the public, likely referencing kissgate. “Lock broken” then is a metaphor for her secret life being revealed. “Slur spoken,” representing the disapproving party, likely references her homophobic fans. In addition, given the lines about game tokens and keeping count, she may also be referencing her manager/team/record company and their reaction to her “jeopardizing” everything she’s worked for and hundreds of people’s jobs by being so “reckless”, when really they were just interested in continuing to make millions off of her, and found a way to use this guilt to control her.

The second verse would then represent she and Karlie deciding to get into serious bearding contracts in 2015 to avoid the “storm coming”.

“Good husband/Bad omen” acknowledges that the choice to “take a husband” in the form of their beards, set them up for trouble in the future. A bad omen fortells what’s coming, and Taylor and Karlie likely both knew that while their lavender “marriages” would serve them well for the time being, they would also bring with them unknowable complications and inevitable strife, especially if they one day decided to come out. Their bearding up to this point had been shortlived pr stunts, but Karlie marrying someone and Taylor carrying on a beard narrative for 6+ years is a more complicated web to untangle.

Thus, “dragged my feet right down the aisle”.

“At the house lonely/Good money/ I’d pay if you just know me” the well-placed line break allows this lyric to represent both the financial security they get by staying closeted, but also how Taylor would pay good money to be truly known and accepted by her fans.

All of this brings us to the chorus, which steps outside of the allegory established in the verses which provide a backstory for the emotions expressed in the choruses.

The chorus has three parts: two parts that are mostly repeated with each chorus, but with two lines that change with each repeat of the chorus, and a third part that is made up of two longer lines, which sonically contrast well with the short lines in the verses and the first two parts of the chorus, meaning these two longer lines punctuate the song and underscore the content of the two lines.

Chorus Parts 1 & 2:

“High infidelity/put on your records and regret me/ I bent the truth too far tonight/ and I was dancing around/ dancing around it/high infidelity/ put on your headphones and burn my city/ your picket fence is sharp as knives/I was dancing around/dancing around it.”

Chorus Part 3:

“Do you really want to know where I was April 29th?/ Do I really have to chart the constellations in his eyes?”

(In the second chorus, the second line of the third part goes: “Do I really have to tell you how he brought me back to life?”)

“High infidelity/put on your records and regret me/I bent the truth too far tonight/I was dancing around/dancing around it”

The chorus is Taylor imagining fully coming out, and some of her fans reactions.“High infidelity” would be referring to Taylor “lying” to her fans, who have a close parasocial relationship to the person they believe her to be, and who might feel “betrayed” if they found out Taylor was hiding a big part of who she is. “Put on your records and regret me” imagines then either listening to her old albums, hanging on to their idea of her, her use of male pronouns, etc, or maybe hate listening to her music, seething about how “fake” she was the whole time they “supported her”. Or maybe they’ll listen to other music, trying to drown out her songs (which they’ll never be able to do because they’re burned into their memory).

“I was dancing around it” refers to everything we have occupied ourselves with in this corner of the internet for a number of years: all of her signaling, her Easter eggs, her bait and switches, her clever word choices, disgusting her truth in plain sight. She has included bits and pieces of her truth in her lyrics, but not been direct.

I see the coupling of “I bent the truth too far” with “I was dancing around it” as both acknowledging the lies that went too far (Grammy gate, betty gate) but also her saying, “I’ve been trying to tell you” (I gave so many signs)

Part two of the chorus: “High infidelity/put on your headphones and burn my city/your picket fence is sharp as knives/I was dancing around, dancing around it”.

“Burn my city” - Cities typically burn in literature or in real life when the masses riot/are enraged. I think this shows Taylor’s real fear that if she were to plainly come out, her fans would burn her memory/empire, and disown her and their journey together. However, fire also symbolizes cleansing, a new beginning, or a change of power, so while this visual could demonstrate her fear of losing everything and no longer being “on top”, it could also echo the optimistic fire symbols we’ve seen recently (lover house burning, her staring at the lighter with vengeance and excitement in her eyes, and her smiling while her castle burns in bejeweled). This layer offers the song an irreverent tone, one that echoes her spoken performance of Seven, which to me sounded like she has made peace with the fact that she may lose some of her fans when she fully comes out.

“Your picket fence is sharp as knives” sounds like Taylor expressing the pain that others expectations of her have caused her. To me it sounds like her saying “I may have lied, but you were keeping me prisoner in that fantasy of me being the perfect all-American woman”. We have already heard her express this in this album cycle, her exasperation with the marriage rumors, the 1950’s shit.

This dynamic between closeted pop star and fans parallels a narrative of infidelity in a traditionally gendered heterosexual relationship. The wife that has cheated out of a desperation to be seen and appreciated, imprisoned by her picket fence which represents the sexist expectations put on her to perform as a perfect wife. Taylor has lied for the same reasons. Because of the gendered expectations put on her as a woman, that forced her to tell her audience what they wanted to hear, lest she suffer “the storm.”

But what then does the third part of the chorus refer to?

“Do you really wanna know where I was April 29th/ Do I really need to chart the constellations in his eyes?”

Taylor is continuing with the metaphor of infidelity to allegorize a “discussion” with her fans post coming out. With this lyric, a confrontation with the cheated-on spouse, She says, essentially, “do you really need me to spell it out for you? Do you really want me to detail something you clearly want to be in the dark about?”

Taylor is pointing out that this lie has been a two-way street. Anyone closely following her and willfully believing her bearding narrative at this point is consenting to denial and social artifice, both of which we happen to also associate with picket fences and American suburbia.

This allegory of Taylor as the cheating trophy wife, and her fans as the absent or unappreciative husband, goes deep. In both cases, the relationship was doomed from the start, to the fault of both parties, and larger social structures. The wife likely married a man with red flags, and played the part she thought she needed to play to find love and stability. The husband didn’t bother to dig under her performance, by spending time with her and truly getting to know her; he was comfortable with her being the “perfect woman” poised and done up, a good homemaker. Society at large enforced both of these choices.

Taylor played the part she thought she needed to in order to be successful, perhaps past the age she was powerless to do otherwise, and her fans didn’t want to see the real her once she started to reveal it; they were happy with their idea of who she was, partially because it had been fed to them, and partially because once that idea started to loose merit they refused to take notice. Society at large dictated the part Taylor should play, and enforced the heteronormativity that allowed her fans to continue believing her public narrative when it became flimsy at best.

The choice to employ the cheating allegory also seems to suggest that Taylor is underscoring the moral gray area of her situation - not the fact of being closeted, but the extent to which she has gone in some cases to protect her career and her loved ones. (Again, this brings to mind undeserved awards given to certain people, and the collateral damage of her queer fans being targeted by straight fans, etc.) There is no absolute right or wrong, no wholey innocent party. The wife had her reasons to cheat, Taylor had her reasons to lie, but still some regrettable moves were made, which left Taylor feeling regretful - or at least yearning for a life without the hiding and deceit.

This point places this song squarely within the larger themes of this album - namely, Taylor reflecting on the choices she’s made along the way in her closeting journey, and the uncertainty she has over whether she’s made the correct ones. As with other songs like Dear Reader and Anti Hero, her writing here maintains an ambiguity that belies her inner turmoil about her choice to prioritize her career over her personal life. She states again and again that she is, at least in part, the architect of her own misfortune, even if she built it for survival.

This song is an outstanding example of what I love most in Taylor’s writing. When you can’t tell a story outright, you have to tell it in allegory, when you can’t name a feeling, you have to describe it, either viscerally or in elaborate symbolism, which, when executed by someone with her talent, makes for unmatched storytelling.

#gaylor #taylor swift #bearding #closeting #kaylor #eras tour #midnights

238 notes · View notes

jaskefer · 10 months

Text

Obsessed with the idea of Extraordinary Things being a back and forth between Jaskier and Radovid, with Jaskier trying to draw him out in the first verse, and Radovid finally answering him in the second.

Cause like, with Radovid, Jaskier meets someone who he can't fully read properly. He knows there's something under the front of a drunken, bumbling prince, but he doesn't know him well enough yet to be certain as to what.

So, he tests the waters a bit. throws out a line to see if Radovid will take it—and he does. A little bit. But it's so interesting to me, because it doesn't just feel like Jaskier is trying to nail down Radovid's truth in this verse; it feels like he's injecting elements of his own mask into it, as well.

"Keep your words on ice, your gaze lights the fire. They say 'keep on playing nice,' but I have no desire. Why waste our words when lips were made for extraordinary things? It's not a want, it's a need, it is paying no heed to what others say to sing."

This is Jaskier's read of Radovid as he knows him so far: a man hiding more complex wants beneath the veneer of a drunken party boy. But it's also Jaskier admitting that he knows this about Radovid because he wears the exact same mask himself.

Much like how Jaskier and Ciri speak through Geralt and Yennefer in order to process their own feelings about them later in the season, Jaskier sings through himself in order to comprehend who Radovid is. Jaskier is using the performative persona he's crafted for himself in an attempt to coax Radovid out of his.

All of it leads into the main intention of this song: "The greatest songs are made up of unspoken words of love. Of them, I've had enough. with you, I am enough." I am tired of having to put up a front. I want to be understood. I think you understand me. Prove me right.

And Radovid sees what Jaskier is doing. He comments on Jaskier's ability to see people for who they are and not who they pretend to be. But there's still more he wants to understand. This still feels like a game, in a way.

It's only after Radovid sees the brutality of Dijkstra and Philippa up close, watches them orchestrate the assassination of the queen and threaten to incriminate him if he doesn't fall in line, that he then grasps the vulnerability in Jaskier's lyrics. Jaskier is also caught between multiple conflicting desires, that of his loyalty to Geralt/Yen/Ciri, and that of his work as the Sandpiper & how said work is backed by his continued commitment to Redanian Intelligence. That internal conflict and the desire to escape it is also highlighted in the song's first verse ("they say keep on playing nice, but i have no desire"). Only after all of this, when true fear begins to take over and the game stops being fun, does Radovid truly begin to truly understand Jaskier.

And so, he seeks him out. And he responds.

“Drop the sweet disguise, your heart’s beating too loud. The fairytales and little lies can’t drown out all the sound.” You were right. I do understand you. I know what you really want, because we're the same. You can’t hide it behind a façade of a song and a story and a persona.

“Take this heart and break this heart for extraordinary things.” I don't know what will become of this, or us. I still don't fully know if we can trust each other. But no one has ever seen me in the way that you have.

It's not a want, it's a need. With you, I am enough.

#angel.txt #the witcher #jaskier #radovid #radskier #meta & theories #angel.doc #twn spoilers #i never wrote my wpb meta so have some extraordinary things meta instead shdfdfddfd #i truly think that first verse is so complex and multi-layered and can be read in multiple ways (both in-universe and externally)#like this is what i meant by 4d chess like how the FUCK can i explain what jaskier's doing in that first verse #its also little things. the background vocals that pick up in the second verse.#the way the second verse is omitted from the diegetic performance of the song which could imply jaskier hadn’t written it at the time #the way that we hear this song over the credits only after they get together in ep 4 and it's an extended version BUT #the extended version is entirely instrumental after the first half ends which also imply that the second half hasn't yet been written #as a whole i think that a lot of twn songs can be read through both internal and external lenses to enhance their existence in the narrativ #the fact that some of them have different names in-universe as opposed to on the ost. the choices they make in diegetic song placement.#im not very inclined in musical terminology but my brain is going insane over what this show does with its songs and how joey himself write #(and tbh i like to think of the sountrack/ost versions of songs as smth separate or alternate from the ones seen directly In the episodes)#idk. just very much intrigued with the idea of this song as a conversation #the entire song being an illustration of the masks they both wear #the truth that lies beneath them‚ and the way they both try to chip at each other until one of them drops it first.#obsessed with certain choices and going a little too insane about them <3

122 notes · View notes

mimisempai · 7 months

Text

A token of gratitude

Summary

The shopkeepers of Whickber Street have decided to show their gratitude to Aziraphale and Crowley. With the help of Muriel and even the Bentley, they're preparing a little surprise for the angel and the demon.

Notes

Day 7 : Slow dancing

On Ao3

Rating G - 1369 words

All set, angel?

Received 19:30

Yes, Muriel is with me.

The lovebirds should be here soon.

Sent 19:32

Nina couldn't help but smile as she watched the bookshop from the coffee shop. For once it was fun to be one of those in the know.

Then her gaze was drawn to the Bentley parked in its reserved spot. The strange car no longer surprised anyone in the neighborhood, just as people had gotten used to the kind bookseller and his equally kind, though he denied it, dark partner.

It had been easy to convince the other shopkeepers on Whickber Street to prepare this little surprise. They all had the same kind of amnesia about the night of the ball in the bookshop, but they all had the same impression.

They'd been in danger, and Crowley and Aziraphale had protected them.

There were often small disagreements among the shopkeepers, but they were all unanimous about this.

It was Maggie, of course, who came up with the idea.

Her incurable romantic Maggie, Nina thought fondly.

The two of them had talked to all the shopkeepers present at the ball and had met with no resistance; on the contrary, everyone had been eager to participate.

Is the music on?

Sent 7:33 pm

The record is on the gramophone and the bee will do the rest.

Received 7:34 pm

Mr. Arnold had seen to it that they found the record as soon as they knew what song it was.

It was Muriel who told them what it was. When Maggie and Nina been looking for the right song to make their two friends dance, Muriel had made a mysterious face and said they had a secret way of finding out. They returned to Maggie an hour later with the lyrics to a song that Muriel didn't know, but that Maggie found in the second. Muriel also said they would take care of turning on the gramophone and the light when the time was right.

Were you able to finish in time?

Received 7:34 pm

Yes, thank you for the wine and appetizers

Sent 7:35 pm

Justine hadn't hesitated for a second to prepare delicious appetizers and fetch the best champagne from the restaurant's cellar, and had helped decorate the bookshop with Mrs. Sandwhich and Mrs. Cheng, but had had to leave early to open her restaurant.

Mutt had distracted Aziraphale by inviting him to the magic shop for a session of prestidigitation, and Muriel had managed to draw Crowley into one of their escapades, a story about duck and frozen peas that Nina hadn't quite understood, but the important thing was that the two heroes of the party wouldn't be around all afternoon, leaving the way clear for them.

Here they come!

Received 7:45 pm

Well, now everything was ready, and all that remained was to wait for the report of a certain bee when the time would come.

**********

Aziraphale and Crowley each arrived at one side of the bookshop and came face to face in front of the door.

"Oh, Angel, you're here too? So how was it playing the amazing Mr. Fell?"

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and swatted him on the arm before replying, "Well, Mr. Cheeky Demon, I'll have you know Mutt was amazed at some of my little tricks."

Crowley replied with a smile on his face, "I don't doubt it. I too have been...amazed."

"What about you? Did you have fun with Muriel?"

Crowley opened the door and was about to answer him when suddenly the chandelier lit up and a banner came down with the words "Thank you" written in beautiful gold letters.

Both looked at each other in confusion and asked at the same time, "Was that you?"

Then they both shook their heads in unison.

They moved a little farther into the shop when all of a sudden Aziraphale tugged on Crowley's arm and exclaimed, "Look!"

He pointed to a small table where a tray of appetizers, a bottle of champagne, and two flutes were nicely arranged.

They approached and saw a small piece of paper leaning against the bottle.

Crowley picked it up and unfolded it before holding it up so that Aziraphale could read it with him.

A small thank you from the shopkeepers to the two guardian angels of Whickber Street.

Enjoy it.

Crowley chuckled, "The two guardian angels..."

He couldn't continue because Aziraphale had put a finger over his mouth and said gently, "Don't spoil this gift, just accept it, my dear."

Then he took the bottle of champagne, opened it and filled both glasses. After that, he grabbed the glasses and handed one to Crowley before continuing, "Let's toast and do as they wrote, enjoy ourselves."

Crowley didn't protest, reached for the glass and clinking it against the angel's, said softly, "To us and to the shopkeepers of Whickber Street."

"To us and to the shopkeepers of Whickber Street."

They each took a sip of champagne as the light from the chandelier suddenly dimmed and strings of lights went up everywhere, creating a soft, warm mood while music played softly from the gramophone.

Recognizing the music, Crowley smiled, "Looks like they've all been hard at work discovering our little secrets."

Aziraphale nodded before setting down his glass and holding out his hand to Crowley, he said gently, "May I have this dance?"

Crowley set down his glass in turn and took the angel's hand.

Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley's shoulder, while the demon's hand naturally rested on his hip.

They began to turn gently to the sound of the music.

After a few moments, the angel's arms wrapped around the demon's waist, and he rested his head on his shoulder. In response, Crowley tied his arms behind Aziraphale's back and rested his chin on the angel's head as they continued to sway gently to the music.

The demon asked softly, "Is this how you planned to woo me on the night of the ball, Angel?"

Aziraphale laughed softly and replied, "More or less..."

"Oh... and what did you have planned after the dance?"

"I have to admit, I hadn't thought that far ahead."

Crowley pushed him back a little and took the angel's chin, lifting it toward him as he said softly, "A kiss, perhaps?"

Aziraphale smiled playfully and replied, "Are you the one wooing me now?"

Crowley brought his face close to the angel's and murmured against his lips, "Is it working?"

Aziraphale breathed, "Try it and you'll see."

Crowley closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to the angel's in a soft kiss that lingered as they continued to sway to the rhythm of the music.

At that moment, indifferent to what wasn't them, they didn't see a little bee lock the door to the bookshop, making sure the angel and demon wouldn't be disturbed.

Then they turned toward the coffee shop, gave Nina, who had been joined by Maggie, a thumbs up, and headed home.

As they passed the Bentley, they ran their hand gently along the car's body and murmured, "Thanks for your help."

Early in the morning, Muriel leaned back against the Bentley and with an air of nonchalance, they said quietly, "I know you can understand me, so let me in, I have something important to ask you about Crowley and Aziraphale."

They weren't quite sure it would work, but how did humans say it? Ah yes, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Muriel jumped slightly when the door opened and then immediately climbed inside.

They kindly said, "Thank you. I know there's something about your radio and music. I need to know, if you know, what song would be perfect for Aziraphale and Crowley."

As soon as they finished their sentence, music started playing on the car radio.

Muriel didn't know the song, but after all, they knew very little, so they jotted down the lyrics in their little notebook.

Then they said gently, "Thank you!" before getting out of the car and walking over to Maggie's.

When they walked into the record store, they immediately asked the blond woman, "Maggie, do you know a song about a nightingale singing in Berkeley Square?"

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

66 notes · View notes

pjisskullourful · 8 months

Text

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 23 of ??? [parts 1-22]

NSFW🔥 for sluts only, nasty, kinky fuckery

° Damiano David/female reader insert

wordcount:::: 7,914 ° request ×3, anon& @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic wanted a bratty kitty getting punished, another anon wanted: lots of aftercare and cuddles and cuteness 💋 thankyou for awesome/inspiring requests [requests are open! but commissions get priority, secure the 7th spot in my cue here!]

You removed your high heeled shoes during the elevator ride up to your floor - unable to stand their punishment for another second. Your night out with Max had lasted much longer than you had anticipated and the fatigue you were starting to feel was inevitable. You were more than ready to peel off your false eyelashes and stop feeling the pressure from the underwire of your bra.

It had been Max’s idea for the two of you to go out, because a gay club that she loved was closing down. This was being marked with a drag show, a huge amount of local performers coming out for their last time on this stage.

Prior to the show starting, you had taken a break from dancing with Max (and some new friends you were making) to message Damiano. He was currently home in Italy and you wanted to let him know not to wait up for you to come home, you were in party mode, you intended to have a damn good time.

Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. He had responded. I’ll just keep it to myself that I miss you.

Aw. I miss you too Daddy. You had enough time to send this message before you were grabbed by Max, taken to do some bright-coloured shots, with names that had gotten increasingly funnier as the night had gone on.

Then the show had begun - the music blasting as different acts took to the stage in varying styles. One drag queen performed Björk, another had six outfit reveals during the course of a single song. A Pokémon-themed number had made you lose your shit. There were drag kings in the mix. Some performers knew their lyrics better than others. You lost count of all of the times you saw someone do the splits.

With regular intervals, Max had made sure you had a glass of wine in hand for most of the night. During one of these times that she was gone at the bar, some of the friendly people you had met struck up a conversation, wanting to know how much of the show you planned to watch. When you had said that you weren’t sure (you and Max were just taking the night as it came), there was a scramble from all of them jumping in to give recommendations of which acts you had to see. They had given you close to the same line - ‘you can’t leave without seeing…’, each completing this statement with a different performer's name. You had agreed with all of their enthusiastic suggestions, ready to keep the night going.

Not long after that, you had received a new message from Damiano. I think I’m gonna go to bed, he had told you. You had exchanged ‘I love you’s and wished him sweet dreams. You checked the time before slipping your phone back into your handbag - 1AM.

About an hour later, another message came in: isn’t it past your bedtime? You hadn’t hesitated with your response: since when do I have a bedtime? He had soon sent something back: silly kitten, you don’t make or control the rules.

Before you could begin to work on your reply, Max had leaned in, getting your attention. “Should we head off soon?”

One of your new companions had heard this over the music and they jumped in to answer for you. “You can’t go yet. You’ve gotta see Glue.”

“Glue?” Max repeated, her brow in a deep crease.

They had elaborated, talking about how Glue was an amazing and unique drag queen. As you listened, you had returned your phone to the darkness of your bag. You made the decision to leave Damiano on read. It wasn’t polite, but you hadn’t felt bad about doing it. He was very keen on having you home with him, but if you made him wait, you could make him want you even more, getting you a more exciting reaction to your return.

Thinking about him calling you a brat due to this behaviour didn’t intimidate you or make you feel like you should change your tactic. If you were being a brat, it was because you could.

You had become thoroughly distracted when the show had started up again.

It had turned out that Glue was worth sticking around to watch. In a sparkly robe, with skull makeup painted on, she had been channelling a witch. There had been a lot of props on stage as she spent the duration of the heavy metal song theatrically concocting a potion, along with lip-syncing each lyric. The audience was brought into the act as she dusted her glittery potion upon spectators, as well as throwing toy frogs into the crowd.

But once she was finished, you hadn’t felt the motivation to head in the direction of the exit. You were still having a good time with Max and with no work responsibilities on the books for tomorrow, you wanted to keep soaking up this wonderful atmosphere.

“We’ll stay for one more song.” She had said to you.

At the end of the next performance, you had said the same thing to her. And it became a trend, the two of you sharing the phrase back-and-forth without showing any real interest in leaving the club.

It wasn’t until almost four o’clock that you followed through, both of you agreeing it felt like the right time to call it a night. Your ears were ringing when you had emerged onto the street, laughing at something she had said.

Then you parted, getting into different Ubers, with the promise to message one another once you were safely at home.

Sitting in the back of the car, you had opened your text conversation with Damiano again. When you hadn’t responded to the last message, he had sent a passive aggressive question mark. You didn’t acknowledge this, typing as if you were oblivious to the fact that you would be in trouble when you got home.

On the way home.

You hadn’t been surprised when his response came to you quickly, of course he hadn’t gone to sleep. You wondered if he had spent all of that time stewing while you had been dancing, cheering and laughing.

So you remembered how to get back here?

Some ways to respond had quickly come to mind as you looked at the screen of your phone. But you didn’t type out any words, you didn’t send him a single letter.

You had smiled to yourself, trying to guess at how many more spanks you had earned. Ignoring him would surely add more strikes to your overall punishment. Or maybe he wouldn’t get physical at all. You had considered this might be the time when he brought back writing lines, it felt like it had been a long time since he had taught you a lesson that way.

You unlocked the door to your home, certain that you still smelled like the club as you stepped inside. You had plans of fetching yourself a glass of water from the kitchen before seeking him out to face your consequences.

Immediately this was derailed. Because from your spot at the doorway, you could see straight into the lounge room, seeing that it was currently occupied. He was seated in the armchair, turning to look as you entered. Was he pleased to see you, relieved that you had made it home safely? You couldn’t tell, the only fitting word to describe his look was icy. He was already in character and it was time for you to catch up, to figure out how you were going to play it from here.

“Hey Daddy.” You greeted, approaching him.

“Hey yourself.” He said. He appeared mostly calm and collected, all of his simmering happening just beneath the surface. It was also the exact opposite of the energy that you had been surrounded by for so many hours.

“I thought you would be in bed.” You said. You stepped in front of the chair, it was close enough that you could have touched him, pushing his hair back from his face if you wanted to. But it felt like it would be incorrect for you to initiate the first touch.

“I couldn’t go to sleep while I’ve got something that needs to be dealt with.” He told you.

“Me?”

“That’s right.” He said. “So you think that you can get away with ignoring me? No, you silly kitty, it definitely doesn’t work like that. Go and get your ass on the bed.”

You didn’t wait, at once following along with what he said. You quickly walked out of the living room, you weren’t drunk enough to stumble any of your steps. But you had had enough to drink that you were already feeling warm and giddy.

You dropped your shoes by the door and placed your handbag on the chair that faced your vanity table. You didn’t take any of your clothes off because you hadn’t been instructed to do so. You sat down on the unmade bed, facing the doorway.

He was soon coming in to join you. He walked in to stand at the foot of the bed, instantly enforcing his authority by looming over you. You looked up at him, feeling the titillating intimidation now.

He lifted his hand to your hairline, beginning to stroke his fingers through your hair, brushing nicely against your scalp. It was soothing and if not for the stony look on his face, you might have reacted with a smile.

“I hope your night out was worth it.” He said. “Honestly, I hope you had lots of fun, because from here on out, it’s gonna be…” His hand curled into a fist around your hair, tugging hard enough to sting as your head was forced further back. “...rough.” You clearly saw the fire in his eyes when he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “What’s your safe word?”

“Pumpkin.” You supplied instantly.

“Good girl. Don’t get too used to hearing that tonight.”

Your hunger was brought to the surface, allowed to be acted upon when his lips crashed against yours. His hand released your hair, moving to hold the back of your head as he sought a deeper kiss. Your hands went to his bare biceps, gripping onto him while his tongue was gliding into your mouth.

He pushed his body weight into you, resulting in you moving backwards until your back landed on the mattress. Without hesitation, and without breaking the kiss, he climbed on top of you. He massaged your tongue with his and you could feel how short of breath you were getting.

His arm reached around you, his hand going to the centre of your back. His fingers explored, refusing to settle in one spot. He ran his hand up-and-down your spine, his fingers grabbing at the material of your dress.

“Where’s the fuckin’ zipper on this?” He asked.

You took your hands off of him. “It’s on the side, here.” You found the tab and started to pull it down, loosening the dress.

“Oh.” He recovered from this fumble, getting the zipper the rest of the way down so that he could get the velvet dress off of you. He tugged it off of your hips and then you pulled your legs free. The next thing to go were your fishnet stockings. He made quick work of removing your bra and underwear. Now, in his cotton shorts, he had the most clothes on. You knew better than to try to get these off of him at the moment - you weren’t about to rebel against the dynamic he was establishing, you had done enough rebelling for one night.

He resumed his position on top of you, his forehead resting against yours as he came in close enough for a kiss. But this didn’t come. His eyes were fixed on yours while his hands explored your nakedness. It felt like your skin scorched in response to his touch, matched by the smoulder in his look.

“I’m gonna give you something that you absolutely cannot ignore. That’s how I’m gonna correct my kitten’s behaviour.” He told you.

You nodded as you licked your lips. But he continued to pass up the opportunity to kiss you, this time he moved off of you. He instructed you to go to the head of the bed, to lie as you typically would while he left the bed.

You watched him go over to the wardrobe, opening the door and looking to the spot where the box full of sex toys sat. The item that he wanted was seemingly at the very top, because mere seconds after looking inside, he was approaching the bed with a bundle of speciality rope. You saw the beginnings of a smile on his face, showing you how much he wanted to get started on this punishment - you doubted there was a single other thought currently occupying his mind. You felt like the centre of his world.

“Hands up to the headboard.” He said, he was unwinding the length of black rope as he got closer.

You lifted your arms up above your head, lining your wrists up with one of the metal rungs of the headboard. You could see the boner developing inside of his shorts as he kneeled on the bed next to you, spotting this was just another drop to add to the hot pool of desire between your legs.

He fed one end of the rope around the rung, the approximate middle of the rope’s length rested against the metal bar. With each half of the rope, he created loops around both of your wrists. His hands were soft, as was the rope as he worked. He brought your bound wrists together, securing them in position with a couple of knots.

“How is that, it’s not too tight?” He asked, checking the look on your face.

“It’s good, Daddy.” You said.

Satisfied with his work, he moved onto the next step of his plan for punishment - this took him back to the toy box. With no time wasted searching or digging through the other objects, he plucked out the vibrating wand he had gifted to you so long ago. He carried it over to the bed, where he sat down facing you. You squirmed in your anticipation, unable to prepare yourself when you weren’t sure what he was going to do next. There was a pause before he turned the vibrator on, during which your mind raced, trying to fill in some of these blanks.

He pressed the power button and selected the speed he wanted (it sounded fast). Your legs had already been lying apart, but he grabbed your ankle with his available hand and moved it, creating a larger gap between your thighs. Then his hand went to your cunt and he used two fingers to push your labia majora back. You felt a shiver when your moist clitoris was exposed to the cool air.

He didn’t give you any kind of warm-up, just putting the toy’s vibrating head to your clitoris and all thoughts were ejected from your mind. Your heart launched into your throat as surprise flooded you. You were weak in response to the power of the toy, so many sensitivities were sparked to life in the same instant, it was too much for you to keep track of. Your jaw went slack as you struggled to adjust to the intensity.

“I have a question for you, babygirl.” He said. You forced your eyes open, looking at him through your daze as you tried to catch your breath. “How do good girls come?”

It was hard to think and it felt like your nerves were on fire. The words didn’t come immediately and you just stared at him, probably looking stupid right now. “Um, with their master?”

“No. Try again.”

You weren’t confident that you had the answer he was looking for. “Loudly?”

He sighed. “No again. You get one more guess.”

“Am I in trouble if I’m wrong?” You asked.

“No, this really doesn’t affect your punishment.”

“Good girls come, um…” Your eyes went up to the ceiling, as if the answer was written somewhere there. “Good girls come when they’re told to?”

“Yes.” He said, easing the vibrator off of you. “You’re right, they get given permission to come. And that’s exactly what you’re gonna do, because you wanna be a good girl, don’t you?” You copied him and nodded your head. “So no matter how much fun you’re having, no matter how amazing Daddy is making you feel- you won’t come until you’ve got permission.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “I would say that we could pinky swear on it, but that’s not the easiest thing for me to offer right now.”

“That’s okay, I can just take your word on it.” He said and you saw the movement as he started to bring the toy towards your cunt again. “Your wrong guesses didn’t affect your punishment, but coming without permission will definitely get you into more trouble. You understand?”

After you had nodded, he returned the vibrating wand to your clit, filling you with all of that intensity all at once. As everything inside of you swelled, you tried to maintain what remained of your composure so that you could consider what he had just said, what you had agreed to. He was hinting at another level of punishment, which meant that he had thought of doing more than just overstimulating your clitoral hood. He wanted to do more than use your wand against you.

But could you handle that? If you went to that next level, would you rise to the occasion, or would you fold pathetically? You couldn’t be certain, leading the intimidation to beating your curiosity, especially given how rattled you already were by the toy.

You squeezed your eyes shut when he began to wiggle the handle of the wand, prompting the head to rub against you so that you were feeling the intensity from all angles. He was making sure the head was reaching every inch of this area, bringing sensitivities into it all. This made your body twitch involuntarily a couple of times as you felt yourself on that invisible incline. You tilted your pelvis, taking the stimulations in deeper.

He moved the toy off of you and you let out a shaky sigh. But you weren’t without the vibrations for long. Before you had time to open your eyes, he was training the head of the wand to the area just beneath your navel. You couldn’t help squirming, unable to calm yourself down while you were feeling the vibrations down to your knees.

You steadily blinked your eyes open and found him carefully observing you. He was watching your building reactions with all of the interest that he would give a well-crafted TV show. He was keenly aware of what he was doing to you, and what he would need to do to get you to the state he desired.

“Can I say sorry?” You asked.

You had surprised him and the pressure from the vibrator eased off a little. “Because you want me to stop?”

“No.” You quickly said.

“Good.” He said with a smile and he pushed the toy into your skin again. Twirling the handle, he had the vibrator rolling side-to-side along the curve of the underside of your belly.

“‘Cause I am sorry, I wanna apologise for ignoring you.”

“It’s okay.” He told you. “I know you’re sorry, that’s why you’re letting me punish you. That’s why you’re gonna take it for me.”

Before you could say anything more, he was distracting you by moving the wand down. He soon had it back on your clit, at once redirecting your focus. Your chest swelled as the vibrations affected you on an immediate level.

He didn’t hold it still, letting you feel it all over your clit as he stroked you with it. He manipulated it in waves and the friction that this gave you had you craving more. You arched your back, very interested in gaining greater pressure.

You got invested in this feeling and you began to move your hips. You tried to match his rhythm as you sought to discover just how much he would let you get away with. He didn’t discourage your rocking and it felt so much better to be in motion.

Before you could get too settled into this, he was taking it away again. This time the vibrating head was going downwards, moving onto your inner-thigh to pulse against the muscle here. He kept it high on the leg, about an inch from your crotch, as if to hint at what the toy could be doing for you.

You continued to feel the tingling of your clitoris as the anticipation for more lingered. He rolled it up-and-down each of your thighs with you keeping your legs spread for him. Under different circumstances, this would have been a relaxing massage - but it did nothing to calm you down as you felt more blood pumping into your cunt.

You let more of your resolve crumble as he set the wand between your labia again. The desire was an ache inside of you and your hands were shaking. The wet noises from your cunt accompanied how he moved the wand, stroking it up-and-down between your folds, encouraging the sensitivities to spread even further. Your moisture was shared all over your cunt.

You loved how it felt when he moved the wand to its lowest point yet, letting it rest at your entrance. Your puffy lips parted, conforming to the bulb-shaped head. Your head slumped back, a choked sob coming from you as you indulged in this new sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy getting all worked up like this. You’re taking it like the perfect toy and it’s driving me a little crazy.” He said, giving you a burst of pride. “Keep taking it for me.”

“I will, Master.” You whispered.

You grinded yourself down harder on the toy, dazzled by how this accelerated the passion inside of you. You wondered if this would be enough to get you off, if he left it there long enough as your hips enthusiastically stuttered in the air. It was promising and you would happily explore more of how it felt.

You weren’t surprised when he left you wanting more, the wand taken away. You drew in a shaky breath, letting go of your frustration over not being allowed to access that next level of pleasure. You were still being kept from becoming complete.

You felt his arm wrap around you as he moved in closer. This was so that he could press the vibrator against the small of your back, which wasn’t enough to distract you from how wet you were.

Your eyes opened at the feeling of his breath warming your face. He was looking down at you, very amused by your current state. You could feel how much you were blushing, unable to hide your neediness with him staring straight at you.

You gave an excited whimper as his lips met yours. You savoured the feeling of him so close, letting yourself get a little lost in his kisses. Your fingers burned to be running through his hair, to get to experience more of him.

You were ecstatic when his hips met yours and you expressed some of your neediness in your movements. You were happy to get to grind against him, lining your slit up with his covered cock. You didn’t spare a thought to getting into more trouble for spreading your cum on his shorts. Because you were hardly aware of the fabric, just concentrating on how good this felt to be almost going through the motions of fucking. His tongue gliding into your mouth felt like an invitation to carry on.

The wand’s vibrating head moved down lower, with him guiding it onto your butt. He followed the line of your asscrack with it, inviting you to feel the vibrations in a new way, from an angle you would have easily overlooked. All of this served to get you feeling even hotter, adding to the tension that would need to be worked out of your pussy.

He didn’t stop moving the wand until he was almost at your entrance. Less than an inch from the hole, in this hidden spot, he held it. You were soon whining against his mouth, teased by the enduring almost of this moment. It was almost in the right place and it was almost enough to take you higher.

“Does that feel good, kitten?” He asked, giving it a little wiggle without letting it get any closer to your cunt.

“Uh-huh.”

“I know it does. But you’re not about to come without permission, are you?” He asked. “You’re gonna be a good girl and keep taking it for me. ‘Cause I’m not done yet.” You whimpered in response to hearing that. “I’m really not.”

You had stopped trying to grind yourself on his cock, now you were wiggling back onto the vibrator, seeking to get more from it.

But before you could truly tap into this potential, he was taking it away. At the same time, he was peeling back from you, shifting his body weight away. You kept your eyes shut, trying to gather yourself amidst this feeling of so many frayed nerves.

He was startling you out of your daze when he brought the toy to one of your nipples. Your legs flinched and you briefly sobbed, your whole system given a start. He pressed it against the hardened peak and it was like a white hot poker right to the core of your being. Your throat clenched as you struggled to comprehend this intensity.

“Kitten…” He whined, making those two syllables go on for much longer. “All these noises, you’re just…” He placed the vibrator on your other nipple. “I was gonna wait to fuck you, but you’re making it… I can’t wait.” You raised your head, daring to hope that he was about to put an end to this torture, that he was about to let you progress. “You are making it literally too hard.” He turned the vibrations off and took the wand away.

You opened your eyes to find he was in the middle of taking off his shorts and briefs. You took in the sight of his freed dick, looking forward to something new. Your eyes darted from his face to his cock and back again as you decided that you didn’t have a preference over what he did next, you were simply enthused by the prospect of him making another move.

He settled himself down again, sitting off to the side of your knee, instead of climbing on top of you. He wrapped his hand around his shaft, instead of laying a single finger upon you.

You watched him start to jerk himself off and you were feeling a little dumbfounded because it didn’t look like he was prepping himself for you. It looked like he was comfortable in his current position, oblivious to you as he settled into his ideal pace.

His breathing was coming in heavier as he looked up at you. “Do you see, babygirl? Do you see how ridiculously hard you’ve made me?”

“I do.” You responded in a small voice.

“You’re so sexy that you’ve disrupted my plan.” He said. “But we can adapt.” With his available hand, he picked up the vibrator again. He switched it back on. “You get to enjoy more of your vibe while you watch.”

“Watch?” You repeated unhappily.

“Yep.” He moved a little closer so that he could reach you with the toy. Its buzzing head was brought to your pubic mound, immediately creating a pressure that couldn’t be ignored. “You’re gonna ride that edge a little longer for me, okay? Not too much longer, don’t get so pouty. Just a fraction more edging, that way you’ll be nice and grateful when I get you off.” You bit into your bottom lip as you thought about how much gratitude you could show if he let you come right now. “I said don’t pout. Now, you don’t have to smile, but you do have to tell me that you’re still down for this and that you want to finish your punishment.”

You did your best to draw in a deep breath. “Please punish me more, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Hearing him say this was just as soothing as having him caress your forehead - it was a little inspiration to keep at it.

He had the wand steady, pressing it right up against your pubic bone. You squirmed through the building sensitivities, feeling the threats to your resolve from every possible angle. It seemed like all of your body was attuned, a desperate harmony that cried out for the climax.

You couldn’t help moaning as those consistent vibrations kept you so weak, kept promising more. And you watched as he chased for his own serving of more. His hand kept at his dick, starting to draw wet sounds. As he worked, his hips moved, with him going deeper into his tempo. His eyes were darting all over your body, not wasting a single piece of inspiration.

The clenching of your inner-walls felt pathetic, even though you couldn’t help it. You were stuck with just recalling the feeling of that cock driving into you as deeply as you needed it. You watched the motions of his strokes, imagining how it would be to have your pussy stroking him instead. Before too long you were lifting your hips, rocking into the relentless wand. You weren’t trying to match his speed, but you craved movement, you needed to get some of this energy out.

“Fuck…” He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as he got faster in his rhythm.

Your eyes locked onto his tip as you saw how it started to leak. You put more power into your hips, feeling yourself getting closer as you bought more into the fantasy of fucking, getting caught up in the sensations that typically came with it.

“I’m close.” He said. “Can I have your mouth? Please let me shoot into that pretty mouth.”

“Yes, Master.” Having him in your mouth was the next best thing to having him in your cunt. You were craving his taste.

He stopped caring about the vibrator and you didn’t lament losing its pulsations. He took his hand off of his dick as he came toward you, figuring out his next move.

“I’m not gonna untie your hands.” His voice had lost most of the earlier harshness.

“Okay.”

“But I’ll hold this hand.” He said, placing one of his hands in yours now that he was close enough. “And you give me three squeezes if you need to breathe.” You were nodding as he got into position over your face, placing his knees on either side of your head. “Or you can just give me a kick if it gets too much.”

You didn’t refuse any aspects of his advances, just opening your mouth as you loosely wrapped your fingers around his hand. With him so close to your face, you were given the scent of his pure lust, a hint at what was to come. You extended your tongue over your row of bottom teeth, watching as he shifted and secured his balance.

He angled his hips and brought the head of his cock down to your tongue. He was looking into your eyes as he moved his shaft down your tongue, your saliva mixing with the moisture that was already coating him. He moved for the warmth of your mouth and you obediently wrapped your lips around him.

You could feel how he was throbbing as he eased more of his length into you, his eyelids beginning to flutter. He didn’t go all the way in, not striving to overwhelm you straight away.

His hand held yours a little tighter as he pumped forward, then back again. He worked himself back-and-forth, your slicked lips rubbing him as he established the tempo that suited his needs. You stayed with him, all of his reactions adding to the arousal that dominated your experience.

He was soon using your mouth almost as quickly as he had been moving his hand. You kept your cheeks drawn in as he locked into his goal. You weren’t craving your own stimulations, that had faded from importance, his climax clearly more significant. The pleasure that you derived came from being used, came from being exactly what he needed right now.

“Fuck…” He moaned.

His available hand reached down, collecting some of your hair between his fingers. You were feeling the extra warmth in your mouth as his dick started to leak more consistently.

“Make me come and I’ll give you the next load in your pussy. We’ll come together, okay babygirl?”

You had to find a way to agree that wouldn’t require you to take him out of your mouth. You sucked your cheeks in more, willing to sacrifice your ability to breathe easily for the moment. You also lifted your tongue to press against the underside of his shaft as he kept at this pacing.

The wet insides of your parted thighs twitched as you felt the burning desire to watch him fall apart. You could tell that he was getting close to losing himself when his hips unpredictably jutted forward a few times.

“Mmn, mmn…” His whining was getting louder as he grinded harder into your face. His eyes squeezed shut as his chest expanded and the hand holding your hair gripped tighter. Your world froze as you watched, desperate to see him move into that ecstasy.

He threw his head back as his body weight rocked forward. The cum surged into your mouth, heavy drops sliding straight down your tongue and into your throat. You kept your lips tensed around him as his half-coherent moans filled the room.

You began to move your tongue against him, making something of an effort to clean his dick. He let go of your hair, but his hand in yours squeezed. You massaged your tongue all over the shaft filling your mouth as he steadily caught his breath.

“That wasn’t how I planned it.” He said, withdrawing over your messy lips. “But you just…” He moved off of you, putting his butt on the mattress. “With every noise that you were making, it had me questioning why I was working so hard to keep control, ‘til I got tired of not having an answer.”

You had thoroughly licked your lips, but you could feel how wet the immediate area around your mouth still was. You turned your head, bringing your face to your elevated arm. You used your bicep to wipe off the lower half of your face, rubbing back-and-forth. When you were done, you saw a couple of streaks from your purple lipstick mixed in with the combination of spit and cum.

You didn’t hesitate to set your tongue to work cleaning this up. His cum was the beginning of your reward and you wanted to savour every bit of it. You heard his little excited gasp when he noticed what you were doing - all without being asked to do so, you were feeling very much like a good girl. You enjoyed having his taste coat your tongue for a while longer.

“Should we revise what you learned earlier?” He asked.

It took you a moment to realise what he was hinting at. “Good girls come with permission.”

“Uh-huh, and are you ready for your permission?” He asked, moving closer.

“Yes, Daddy.” You said, your breath coming in faster as he climbed on top of you, this time placing his body over yours. “Yes, Daddy.”

He kissed you, undeterred by the taste of his own cum. The time spent without the vibrator hadn’t seen any dulling of your desires. Just because you’d had the chance to catch your breath didn’t mean you were any less turned on than you had been when he was in the middle of punishing you. All of those sensitivities lingered, just waiting to be rediscovered by him.

You remained so close to that edge, exactly where he wanted you. Your whimper was muffled by his lips when the head of his hard shaft began to spread your swollen pussy open.

So much of your body was attuned to his movements that you were feeling it beyond your cunt when he moved in deeper. It seemed like every fibre of your being had been awaiting this penetration.

“You look so good like this.” He said in a husky whisper as he started to rock his hips into yours.

“You think that I look good takin’ that dick?” You sought to clarify. “I’m glad.”

“That goes without saying, babygirl. I meant how pretty you look with your makeup all ruined and running.” He said as his eyes moved across the features of your face. “You looked hot all made up at the start of the night, you always paint yourself to perfection. But there’s somethin’ about how you look right now- unf, it’s doing things to me.

“Your lipstick is absolutely destroyed. All that pretty shadow under your eyes is streaky, so much is smeared. And it’s beautiful. And it’s the perfect representation of how much I’ve corrupted you. I can see through the facade, I can see how much you’ve let me ruin you.” He said. “And it’s so sexy, it’s so…”

You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, bringing him in closer as you tilted your pelvis. “Corrupt me more, I want more.”

He picked up speed, spending more time buried deep into your cunt. “I will, oh I fuckin’ will, I will, I will…”

He got faster again and it became difficult to think amidst all of the sensations that his persistent thrusting was stirring up. Your walls spasmed and clamped around him, with every collision feeling better than the one that preceded it.

You shut your eyes as your whole body felt full of tingles, pulsing in your desperate state. Your hands were shaking and it was consistently getting harder to hold back the overwhelming conclusion.

“Please.” You burst out, ready to give in to your monumental orgasm.

“Yes babygirl, yes.” He moaned, his stamina remaining as he finished you off with some more pounding. “Come for me, come.”

You cried out in relief, so glad to let it all go. As you were moving into your perfect moment, the clamping down of your cunt was enough to take him over his own edge. Buried deep inside of you, this new wave of cum was unleashed.

All that you could do was go limp, you were spent in every sense of the word.

“Oh my fucking God.” You gasped as you finally felt him loosening the rope around your wrists.

“How do you feel? Are you alright?” He asked, cradling your face in his hands.

You opened your eyes to find him looking you over with eyes full of concern and you wanted to get rid of that as quickly as possible. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m- I’m alright.”

“Good girl.” He said, giving you a kiss on the forehead, reinforcing the fact that the scene was over. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can get you, yeah?”

“Mm-hm.”

He let out a deep sigh. “I think I need a cigarette after all of that.”

You drew your arms and legs up to your torso as you continued to work at catching your breath. You were still feeling overwhelmed, you didn’t know how to even begin coming down.

In the process of finding his pack of cigarettes and lighter, your inactivity had caught his attention. He walked back over to the bed. “Hey, how are you feelin’?”

“I- I’m alright.” Your mouth felt dry as you talked. “I just-... it can wait ‘til you come back from your smoke.”

He sat down beside you. “No, no waiting, tell me now.”

You couldn’t explain it but there was a shyness that you felt as you gradually lifted your eyes up to his face. “Can I have cuddles?”

“Fuck yes you can have cuddles.” He said as he quickly laid down with you. He scooted his body in closer and wrapped his arms around you. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Yes, this is perfect. I like how safe I feel in your arms.”

He was gently stroking your hair back from your face, moving the strands to rest behind your ear. “That’s good because you are safe in my arms. You’re safe…” He kissed you on the cheek. “You’re valued…” He kissed your other cheek. “You’re respected…” He switched back to the other cheek, but this time his kiss was placed much closer to your lips. “You’re understood…” He mirrored another kiss. “And you are fucking adored.”

His next kiss went directly onto your lips. You shut your eyes, caressing his cheek as you enjoyed a subtle warmth blooming in your belly. You marvelled at how fast he could help you feel less unsettled in your own skin.

“And if you’re not feeling all of those things, then I’m not doing my job as your dom.” He said.

“It’s not that I don’t feel those things. It’s just such a big rush of emotions and the crash after the adrenaline- I guess it caught me off-guard. And the alcohol probably doesn’t help all of that.” You said.

“How much did you have?”

“Uh…” It felt like you were looking back further than just a few hours ago. “Three glasses of wine and some shots.”

His eyebrows raised. “Some shots?”

“I don’t remember specifics, Max was buying them.” You said. “But one that we had was called a purple nurple.”

“And was it nurple-y?” He teased.

“Um, it was purple.” You said. “Anyway, my point is that me getting discombobulated is not a failing on your part. Maybe I just need a little extra aftercare tonight.”

“Awesome. You know that I’m always down for aftercare, I’ll aftercare you into next week. As much fun as I have during our scenes, I wouldn’t rank that time above this.” He said as he traced his fingers up-and-down your spine. “I love getting to take care of you and nurturing you like this- it’s honestly so good for me too. I like the feeling of us restoring the balance.”

You didn’t doubt that he meant what he said, but you still sought another piece of validation. “You like it so much that you don’t mind me keeping you from a cigarette?”

“My pet is far more important than any cigarette.” He said.

“Because I’m cuter than a cigarette?”

This earned you a chuckle from him. “Yes. On the long, long list of things that you are cuter than, is cigarettes.” He gave you another kiss. “Was there another part of aftercare that you had in mind, or are you only about the cuddles?”

“Actually, can you do me a favour?” You asked, prompting him to immediately nod his head. “On my makeup table, it should be out with the other stuff- can you get the box for these lashes?” He started to sit up. “I’m desperate to take these off. It feels like butterflies have landed on my eyes.”

He walked over to the disorganised mess that was your makeup table. “Well they look very pretty and they didn’t move a single inch.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I made sure I glued that shit down properly.” You said. “Do I really look like the kind of chick that would go to a drag show with a wonky eyelash?”

“No, you do not.” He said, returning to the bed with two things in hand. He showed you the pack of face wipes. “I figured I could help you take the rest of the makeup off.”

You were pulling one of the false eyelashes off of your lid as you sat up. “Thanks, but I’m probably better off just having a shower ‘cause I’m gonna need coconut oil to get this eyeliner off, it’s the heavy-duty shit.”

“Should we shower? I’ll cuddle you in there too.”

The two of you went into the bathroom. While he was getting the shower water to the perfect temperature, you stepped up to the mirror to inspect the makeup he was so taken by. Immediately you were laughing at what you saw. You were such a mess, it appeared that you had been partying for days, or that you had started trying to wipe your makeup off, only to get bored and fall asleep not even halfway through the process.

You commented that you didn’t understand how he could call you beautiful in your current state, a fucking dumpster would look more put together than you. At that he had rushed to your side, kissing you on the cheek before launching into an explanation of how your natural sexiness shone through. It seemed that he had an endless amount of sweet words to tell you, ready to counter all of your self-deprecating statements.

He was still talking when you stepped into the shower with him. Under the pleasantly warm stream of water, he took the lead in removing your makeup. You held the jar of coconut oil and he dipped a portion of the washcloth in, tenderly wiping this across your face, one section at a time.

“Can I tell you about my night?” You asked.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been dying to get the full story. You sent me, like, two Snapchats when you first got to the club, then nothing.”

You did your best to keep everything in chronological order as you shared what you had experienced within the doors of Honcho. You told him about the best drag performances, sharing details of the outfits and repeating any funny comments you had made at the time. You described the friendly people you had met (becoming mutuals with a couple on Instagram) and you explained how you had been convinced to stay so late.

“I’m sorry, I just wanna make sure I heard you right…” He cut in. “Did you say Glue, this queen was named Glue, that’s the whole name?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You said. “Do you not like it? I love it, it’s hilarious.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just really random.”

“That’s what’s so great about it. So you wouldn’t go the silly route if you were picking a drag name?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh, I think my drag name would need to be something super slutty.”

“‘Cause you’d be-”

He started talking in the same second, your words somewhat synchronising. “Because I would be a slutty queen.”

“-a slutty queen.”

He smiled at that. “Ah-ha, so you’re familiar with my work?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you on stage two or three times, I guess.” You joked.

You started trying to come up with the perfect name for his drag queen alter-ego, brainstorming aloud. You attempted to combine the word slut with common names and he joined in. You were both laughing as the practice seemingly became a competition to come up with the dumbest thing.

»»————-　♡　————-««

🍑 taglist: @floral-recs - @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @icarodamiano - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys [join here!]

#maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut #damiano david fic #damiano x reader #while you wait for honey heres some smut #YOU GET A REQUEST FILLED & YOU GET A REQUEST FILLED #dom dami corruption fic #come get yall filth!!!

64 notes · View notes