#INSANE lyric. in other news i think i need to break something against a wall

[olliecoded]

all the love all the kindness all your best-laid plans couldn't stop me from becoming the way that i am

#INSANE lyric. in other news i think i need to break something against a wall #hello world

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

this drabble was inspired by binnie’s outfit from the hello stranger vid and oh also! we are finally getting changbin’s thighs on this acct dedicated to them teehee

Part 1

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, past reader x han jisung  

Genre: smut n’ a lil fluff 

Tags: (for this part) softdom!changbin, sub!reader, undergroundrapper!changbin, chan, felix and jisung side characters, hook-up, scraping knees & mentions of blood, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), gagging, protected sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, orgasm denial and edging (f receiving), begging, fingering (f receiving), squirting, use of handcuffs, cockwarming at the end

Word count: 4.9k 

Chapters

PART 1 | PART 2 

gif creds to @iconicspearb​ ♡

2am, and you felt euphoric. Like a fucking cloud. Even though it was typical, there really were no other words that could describe it. Music was blasting on several speaks mounted to the walls and the ceiling. The bass was booming at such a low frequency you felt it reverberating in your chest--or maybe that was your heart. 

You had been shoved up against sweaty bodies for nearly four hours now, and your friends Chan and Felix hadn’t told you if they planned on leaving at any time soon. Not like you minded. Nothing felt better than a feeling like this. In a place like this, you could forget the rest of the world for a little bit; who you were and what you needed to do. The buzz in the room was infectious. Everyone in the room threw their bodies together, clashing in one big, beautiful mess. 

After four hours, you still wouldn’t get tired of it. Next to you, Chan and Felix were bouncing up and down with you, thrashing their heads to the rapid fire syllables spat by the rappers. Your ears would ring during every tiny moment of silence.  

“How much longer do you wanna stay for?!” Your scratched voice called to your friends. 

“SpearB hasn’t come on yet!! We have to see him!” 

“SpearB?!” 

The widest grin attacked Chan’s face, flashing his dimples. “Yeah! I heard that he’s insane!” 

Felix threw his arm over your shoulder to dance with him and the two of you fell into a rhythm, shouting over the lyrics of the rapper on stage: you had seen him dozens of times, Chan and him were even on a first name basis. 

You new his name too, but that was because you had plenty experience screaming it out for him...both at concerts and in private. Jisung was his name. He was the one that turned you on to fuck buddies. God, he was way too cocky for you to ever to consider anything else. 

He dished out out of his signature winks while he buried his teeth into his lip. 

You wondered if you would be going home with him again tonight. Not like you minded. The way that he would suck on your clit was unreal. 

“--THANK YOU FOR COMING OUT!” Jisung bellowed into the mic, leaping off some structure and launching himself into the air. 

You and your two friends cheered for him and clapped for him until your hands turned red. He was cocky...but he was sure as hell talented. 

“SpearB is coming next!!!” Felix shook your shoulders in his excitement. 

A couple stage hands changed around the stage a little bit by moving around a couple speakers, adding a smoke machine, setting out a new computer at the little table in center stage.��

“He-he’s gonna LIVE MIX ON THE STAGE” Chan’s eyes widened.

“He’s gonna what!?” There was almost nothing left of your voice. 

“JUST WAIT AND SEE.” 

The lights dimmed and Felix and Chan clung to your arms, nearly squeezing the life out of them.

If he was this of a big deal to them, he must be something special. 

He stepped out a black shadow, swirls of smoke at his feet. He hadn’t even said anything yet, but his aura was massive. The lights rose slightly so you could see his face better: smoky brown eyes, light brown hair that was nearly silver. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck, contrasting with the rest of his darkly colored clothes. Most of all, your eyes were drawn to his thighs, perfectly shaped and curved under his pants, toned and thick. On his fingers he wore bands of sliver rings. 

As soon as his fingers touched the keyboard, Chan and Felix lost their minds clawing at your arms. You had never seen the two of them so giddy. 

He didn’t even look at the audience at first, like they weren’t even there. With the tap of his fingers he started making a beat; it was piercing and catchy with snares and 808′s vibrating the room. He had a small keyboard next to him that he used, the silver glimmer from his rings reflected off the stage lights--they were nearly blinding. 

The crowd started moving to his beat which he sped up gradually creating a type of tension that you could only really describe like the mere seconds before a climax. 

He rose the mic to his mouth after licking his lips tantalizingly slow. He finally let himself look at the crowd. With the mic to his mouth, his eyes met yours, striking you with electricity. Even though his backing music was ridiculously fast, he sauntered to the front of the stage, not breaking with your gaze. This time you definitely knew it was your heart that was throbbing in your chest—not the music.

Chan and Felix were clawing onto you even harder, but you couldn’t feel a thing. 

He was fucking mesmerizing. 

He hadn’t even said a word. 

He crouched down to be eye level with you with his gaze still deathly fierce. Every single inch of him oozed with confidence and unbridled mystery. 

Almost like he was teasing you, he shot up and away, turning into his mic, his gruff voice growling over the start of his lyrics. 

He never looked at you again for the rest of the performance. You found yourself aching for his eyes on your body again, but he never gave it to you. 

No one had ever made you as soaked as he made you. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Aren’t you glad that we stayed, Y/n?” Chan nudged you hard once the three of you had left the club. 

The chill of the winter stung at the back of your sweaty neck wonderfully. It felt amazing compared to how stuffy it had been in there for the past several hours. 

“--how he looked at you?? Y/n, that was...” Felix laughed out a little in disbelief. 

You dig your hands further into your coat pockets. Just above you, tiny flakes of snow started to fall. You huffed out, your breath was wispy floating in the air. You were still getting over it all. How could he have looked at you like that and then pretended that you didn’t even exist? What kind of sick shit was that? 

Chan ran in front of you to skid on a patch of ice with child-like giggles. 

“You okay?” Felix asked, linking his arm through yours. He was always the best at reading you. 

“--yeah, it was just strange. There was something about him that...” 

“--I mean, he’s really hot. I’ll give him that.” 

You chuckled a little. “You think so too?” 

“I’d be blind if I didn’t think so.” 

“I don’t even know him...but why did he look at me like that...like he did?” 

“I dunno.” Felix shrugged. “We should catch up with Chan before he actually slips.” 

“Heh, you’re probably right.” 

“You just gonna head back home? It’s really late.” 

“Yeah, I’m super tired after all of that.” 

“Want one of us to walk you home?” 

You pondered for a minute, eyes cast up a little to the sky. The night had turned perfectly quiet during the early hours of the morning. Maybe a walk by yourself could do you some good. 

“I’m fine. Thanks for offering though.” 

“Text us when you get back?” Your friend gave your arm a little squeeze with a little worry dancing across his freckled cheeks. 

“Of course.” 

“Okay...don’t forget!” 

“I won’t!” You waved your friends away just as you reached the intersection separating your path from theirs. 

You sucked in a deep inhale, letting the cold air burn a little in your lungs. The sensation snapped you out of your yawn perfectly. It was just a few more blocks away and you knew the way well. Two rights, one left, two straight ahead. 

A blur started to cover your eyes and one more yawn escaped your lips. 

Or was it one right and two lefts? 

The street lights blurred into green and white lines. 

I should be there shouldn’t I? 

Behind you the horn honked, loud and shrill. 

You thought to yourself, what is someone doing honking so loud at night? 

“Watch out!!” A hand grabbed at your arm and jerked you back hard. 

You were definitely awake when your body crashed to the cement sidewalk knees first. A burning pain seethed at the skin of your knees. 

“Fuck! Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull that hard--” 

At first you saw your scraped knees, then you saw him...finally looking at you again. 

“What the hell are you doing walking into the middle of the street, didn’t you see the light?” 

“Are you fucking stalking me?” Was the first thing your brilliant brain could think to ask. 

He scoffed. “You’re welcome for saving your life? You were stumbling around... are you okay? Did you take something?” 

Before you knew it you were surrounded by him and his friends: inspecting you for any signs. 

“No, I am not on anything.” You hissed. “I just...I think that I’m tired an--wait...where are we?” 

“That tired huh?” He helped you to your feet, making you wince. “Shit, you’re bleeding.” His hand lingered on yours. 

“Oh. Yeah, it’s fine. Honestly it’s my own fault.” Your tone dropped. “I should have had one of them walk me home.” 

“--You need someone to walk you home?” 

“No, I got it, thanks. I’m just over that way.” You took two shaky steps forward, your knees immediately buckling in pain. 

“No-listen, my place is over there, I can help you get cleaned up--you’re not gonna find any taxis back to your place at this time of night.” 

“Are you luring me right now?” 

“What?! No!” 

You chuckled a little. It was a bit funny how different he was off stage compared to on. You almost forgot how embarrassingly soaked he had made you before. 

“Trust me.” He nodded to his friends and they split, leaving the two of you alone under the flurrying snow. “You coming?” 

You tentatively took his hand. Funny. This was kind of how it started with Jisung too. All of them were the fucking same. You pitied yourself for thinking that he would be any different. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Changbin, as he introduced himself, lived in a modest apartment with three roommates in a place with creaky floorboards and walls of painted over brick. He swore up and down that there was heating in there, but it didn’t feel like it. He kept very few things in his room save for some things that looked like synthesizers and a TV. The two of you had to tip-toe to his room. He warned you that nothing could be kept secret in that apartment. 

“Here, you should clean it first to get anything out of it. Then put this on it, you don’t wanna get infected or anything.” 

“oh. Thank you--” You reached out, but instead he knelt at the edge of the bed at your knees. He tore the whole in your tights even wider to start dabbing at your scratches. 

“Hey! What the--” 

“--They’re already torn. What’s the use in them now?” 

He got to work, being as careful as he could tending to you. His hands gently held your leg still. You watched as he did everything. Being this close again, you remembered. Those little silvery and wavy trellises of his hair...he really was gorgeous. 

Changbin’s hand smoothed down your calf once he was done, tickling you slightly. 

“All done. Better?” 

“Yeah...thank you.” You shied away. After seeing this other side of him you didn’t quite know what to think. 

“I’d love for you to stay but, seeing as you thought that I was luring you before--” 

“--Have I met you before?” 

“Me?” Changbin unclipped his earrings. “I don’t think so. But...that’s interesting. I was thinking the same thing earlier. There’s something about you that I recognize.” 

“--That’s why you looked at me like that?” 

“I looked at you like that, because I thought that you looked sexy.” 

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks. There was something especially hard to ignore about how gentle he had been with you before and how his eyes seemed to devour you now recalling the memory. It was...different. Maybe he wasn’t like all the rest of them. 

“I guess you must not think I still am if you’re trying to send me home.” You edged him on. It was undeniable how good it felt to have him give you his undivided attention. 

“I’m sending you home because it’s the respectful thing to do.” 

“That’s honorable.” 

“You rather me do something else?” 

“You rather me do something else?” 

“You want me to continue being respectful?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

Changbin paced the length of his room, cradling his neck up. “Stop playing fucking games and tell me what it is you want.” 

You thought that him performing was enough to send you over. Seeing him mad was something entirely different. You knew exactly what you wanted; what your body wanted.  

You narrowed your eyes. “Obviously. I want you.” 

You saw it in his eyes first. It was like the first spark of a flame right before he was set ablaze. All you had to do was say it. 

He tore his jacket off and launched himself on top of you, crashing his lips needily into yours. His mouth was addictive, perfectly soft, but running over yours roughly over and over. He kissed you, starving, breathing exhales into your mouth. He wasted no time meeting his tongue with yours, twisting around it slowly, forcing you to slow your pace. He gave you everything at once, then slowly started taking it away again. Changbin sucked on your bottom lip slightly, then pulled. He returned, kissing you again agonizingly slow. He let his hands cascade down your sides, sliding them up your shirt. Further down, he wedged his thigh between your legs, pressing in and issuing a little whimper from you. 

“I like to take things slowly...I hope you don’t mind.” He kissed down your jaw to your neck, taking care of the skin he craved here. He pressed harder with his leg. 

You cried out before grinding your hips into his thigh hopelessly seeking some kind of pleasure. When you did so, the friction of your clit was just enough. 

“So fucking needy.” His warm breath spilled into your ear. “You just can’t wait to have me, can you? Can’t wait to have me filling you up, fucking you deep inside, stretching you out...just like you want to?” He painted more kisses into your neck. “You’re not getting it yet. Not until I say so.” 

“Please...” You felt pathetic grinding on him so hard, but you couldn’t stop, not when it felt so good. 

“Awww.” He tutted. “Feels good doesn’t it?” 

“Mmmm...” You dug your fingers into his arms to pull yourself even closer to him.

He scoffed out a laugh and moved himself off of you. “Quit doing my job for me.” He smirked, then reached down to your legs where he coursed his hands up your inner thighs right where you were most delicate. His fingers reached your throbbing and drenched pussy properly wet through your panties from grinding on him. He ghosted over your clit, letting his fingers fall up and down just slightly, never giving you the satisfaction. Your whole body jerked just for him. Wordlessly, he tore a hole again with one continuous rip. 

“fuck. You’re so wet for me.” He wondered at your body. There he was, looking at you as he had done before. His thumb permitted you a couple soft circles to your clit as you helplessly grinded into his hand. His hands looked beautiful teasing your pussy with his silver rings.

“I’ve got something special I wanna use on you.” Changbin rubbed down harder with one hand and drew a pair of shiny metal handcuffs from his beside with the other. “Pretty right?” He twisted them around.

Seeing them instantly made your whole core cry out in desire for him even more. 

“Can I?”

You nodded quickly and even provided for him your wrists. As expected they bit with a cold, but how they made you feel...so helpless and usable was euphoric. Changbin rose your arms above your head, then removed the remains of your tights, skirt and underwear. By contrast, he was still completely clothed, but you could see his dick, hard and swelling with girth, pressing up against his pants. 

His hands explored all over your legs while you squirmed. The touch of his skin on yours was hypnotic. You had already felt his fingers, so you figured he wouldn’t let you feel them again soon. He drew little scribbles into your skin, sometimes pressing hard, grabbing at you in greedy handfuls. 

“You’re so gorgeous Y/n, so pretty for me, so pretty tied up and squirming. You’re such a good girl...I’m gonna make you cum harder than you can even imagine.”

Your little whimpers came out along with a string of explicatives while he teased at you relentlessly, still not going to touch your clit again. Your hands trashed together a little in the cuffs, the cold digging into you. You couldn’t do anything about it. Your hips writhed when his fingers traced up to your belly, then up to your nipples to pinch at them until they were painfully hard. Your whole body craved him so badly everywhere. 

“fuck--please stop, please--” you panted out, “touch me.” 

Back down again went his hands, and you watched as he devilishly smiled at his work. “I said, not until I say so.” Suddenly his fingers slid right into your pussy with ease. He had tricked you. You nearly screamed at the feeling if he had not slapped his hand over your mouth. “be fucking quiet.”

Changbin pumped in and out at his favored slow pace, curling his fingers up perfectly to rub at your g-spot. Your hands were still useless, so you bit down hard on your lip to keep your moans from escaping. 

“You like it this way don’t you? You’re taking my fingers so good, beautiful. Keep being a good girl and I’ll let you cum okay?”

“Mmm-yes, please.” Your words were breathy.

He moved on to fucking you with his fingers relentlessly. He would switch between pumping you full to then pulling out and robbing you of all feeling. As soon as he could sense your walls tightening, he would pull out, eyes greedily watching as you would fall apart from his edging. 

Your body betrayed you while you were being cruelly teased and your mind went blank as he brought you back and fourth each time. A tension deep down inside you built every time he would curl his fingers--any moment you knew that you could explode if he could only just let you. You even considered letting your hands fall to rub your needy clit yourself, but you had more than enough of punishing. 

“You’re doing so well.” Changbin soothed you at last. “Do you wanna cum for me?” 

“Yes.” You sighed out with utter exhaustion. 

“Alright. You deserve it.” He kissed into the skin right under your bellybutton where your shirt had tucked up a little. 

Finally he rammed his thumb against your clit to give it simulation as he continued fucking into you with his fingers, giving careful attention to your sensitive bud as he wiggled his fingers with speed. The metal on his fingers grazed you too inside, and you felt yourself tightening around him once again. That same tension gathered low and it was so intense and unfamiliar that it scared you. Your back arched as you felt it getting closer..closer...

You cried out, “Changbin, I--” 

“Just let it all go, babygirl.” He spread out your legs farther. 

You came with such ferocity that you felt lightheaded: you squirted hard with your release. It took every ounce of your will not to make a sound, only letting shallow gasps escape. Changbin removed his fingers as you came, rubbing your clit as you did, giving it a couple slaps where it was swollen. Tears fell down the sides of your face as your whole body shook with each release and your hips buckled together. 

Changbin laughed out in awe at the shaking mess in front of him. You felt your whole body flush with heat, and you couldn’t bear to look at him--you had never done anything like that before in your whole life. In fact you didn’t really know what it was. You hid your flustered face under your arms. 

“Fuck, that was so fucking hot.” You heard him chuckle. “Why are you hiding? Hey, come back--” 

He jingled with the keys and let your wrists free, which were also throbbing with a bit of pain. He kissed both of them one after the other. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let yourself look at him and you noticed that his shirt was splattered wet from droplets of your liquids. 

“Fuck--I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was--” 

He laughed softly then crawled over you again. His hands ran up and down your body still in aftershocks. “You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed his lips into yours. “I’m guessing that was your first time squirting, huh?” 

“I-I think so.” 

“Did it feel good?” 

“It felt...so good.” 

“I fulfilled my promise then didn’t I?” He caressed the sides of your face to give you even more careful kisses; they weren’t needy anymore, but this time more caring and passionate. Hell, he didn’t even know you but he kissed you like he loved you. 

“You want me to do you now?” 

“Not yet, you’re still coming down, I don’t wanna ruin this for you.” 

“ ‘Kay.” This time you were the one to lean in to keep kissing him. His lips curled into a smile against yours. 

Changbin unbuttoned your cropped shirt, then took off his all of his clothes after. He laid down next to you, both of you completely bare and the warmth of his mouth found yours once again. Maybe it was just because you had just cum because of him, but the sense of closeness that you felt to him made you feel impossibly safe. You could have kissed him like this forever. 

“You’re perfect.” He whispered onto your lips between kisses. 

You slung one of your legs over his hips and his member twitched on your stomach. You had come down enough. 

“My turn now?” 

“I wouldn’t object to that.” He grinned. 

The bed sheets crinkled a little as you descended farther down the bed and he sat his back against the wall. You got your first proper chance to look at his full length: veiny and perfectly thick, dripping just a little with pre-cum. You could only imagine what it would feel like inside you. Changbin’s eyes followed as you wrapped your hand around him and teased the tip with your pointer finger. You licked fat strokes up and down the sides, feeling him hardening even more. The saliva gathered in your mouth seeing the head grow redder and redder. His chest shook with a broken sigh. You gave him one teasing squeeze that made him wince beautifully. 

“Keep going.” He commanded, raking his fingers through your hair and gripping there. 

“I don't need you to tell me that.” You hushed and flicked the tip of your tongue over his tip. 

After he got to do all of his teasing, how come you didn’t get to do some too? 

“Don’t make me make you.” He growled. 

“Ooo scary.” 

Your hand began to pump him and he relaxed, exhaling out with the trailing of his voice hiding his soft moans. Your free hand dug into the skin of his thigh, letting the sharp of your nails pepper little pink crescents. They were so perfect, you rewarded them with kisses and little bites while your hand kept pumping. Changbin’s fingers dug into your scalp needily. 

He hissed out, “Give me your mouth.” 

A surge of confidence swelled within you knowing he was completely in your control. “You aren’t even going to say please?” 

“I don’t say please.” 

“Then maybe I won’t suck you off then?” 

A flash of betrayal ran across his smoky eyes. “What?!” 

“Fine. I won’t make you say it.” You smirked and took him in generously, deeply, pushing down your tongue and taking him down your throat. You were just a little too ambitious: his length made you gag, but you swallowed down the reflex. Changbin’s head fell back and hit the wall. 

“fuck yes.” The words escaped his tongue. 

You grabbed at him and squeezed, hard, twisting him and flicking your wrist with each turn. He was delightfully hard in your mouth, and with each step closer he gasped out faster and faster. Your head bopped in your rhythm, still taking him in deeper with each move, chasing gags away just as fast as you got a new one. You would stop for a few seconds to let him quiver in your hand and he would groan out once your warmth disappeared. 

“Not-not yet,” He gasped out and squirmed, then pushed you lightly off of him. He scrambled over to the beside again, throwing the drawer open and finding a condom which he tore open with his teeth, then impatiently rolled it over his pink length. He threw his body off the bed, grabbing at your hips to align you with the edge of the bed and situating himself between your legs. He was just as impatient when he took some lube into his hand to rub over his dick curled against his stomach. Changbin coaxed his dick into your opening, leaning down over your body with forearms resting on both sides of your head. Once the two of you were connected, you both let out sighs with the feeling consuming you. He filled you up so wholly, so deeply, it even hurt just a little bit, kind of like the first time. 

“Baby you’re so tight.” He thrust in slow at first, exactly how he liked it. It felt fucking amazing when he stretched you out grinding his hips even in little to let your clit feel the sensation as well. He attached his lips with yours to lend them his warmth. Your arms latched around his neck and your legs around his waist as you pulled him in even closer. The heat from his sweating chest emanated on you. He started to pick up his pace, giving your g-spot attention again as he angled himself above you. 

The two of you sucked in each other’s air as it lasted between your lips for only a few seconds. You moaned directly into his mouth hoping that it was enough to muffle the sound and he returned back with his own arousal spilling all over you and sticking on your tongue. 

Changbin pulled away to shove your legs together and press against his torso, making you even tighter. He shut his eyes upon feeling it, focusing on nothing else but his thrusts. His forehead gathered with little beads of sweat and one fell down his brow. 

His name flew off of your mouth naturally as he fucked into you, and your second orgasm pooled. His toned arms flexed from where he grabbed onto the bed and he choked out little airy gasps before announcing that he was about to cum. 

“Cum inside me baby, fill me up...I’m all yours.” 

Upon hearing your words, he set himself loose, pounding into you with astonishing speed doubling over you as he came, leaving himself inside to throb against your walls. There was something so primal inside of you that craved to feel his cum inside of you knowing that he wanted you, that he desired you and that you could unscrew him until he was vulnerable like this, all for you. 

“Can we...stay like this for a little while?” 

He chuckled a bit, and swept a few strands of your hair off of your face. 

“You like how it feels like this then?” 

“...yes.” 

“Okay beautiful. Anything that you like, can I come back up first? Kinda hard to do it like this.” 

You nodded and let himself get situated sitting on the bed, resting himself against the wall once more. Your bodies shivered as you sat back down on his softening dick, but it was the feeling of being connected to him that you craved. He traced his fingers up and down your back, his eyes full of admiration. 

“You’re perfect.” He echoed. 

“You hardly even know me.” Your fingers twirled his curly hair. 

“You’re perfect.” 

“Thank you...and...thank you for making me feel so good.” 

“My pleasure,” He laughed out the words, “And yours too I guess.” 

“Very funny.” 

There he was, looking at you again like that. Like he loved you. He didn’t even know you. He didn’t know that things you had done; who you were. 

“I’d like to get to know you though. If you’ll let me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝ 

AHHHH so writing this I kinda fell in love with the potential for this plot, esp with the stuff with the readers history with Jisung???? SHould I make this a series???? Softdom!bin romancing us?? Let me knowwwww

#hell yes binnies thighsss #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #seo changbin #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #changbin x y/n #changbin x reader #changbin x female reader #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagine #stray kids drabbles #softdom #kpop drabble #kpop imagine #kpop oneshot #spearb #hello stranger #bang chan #chan #lee felix #felix #han jisung #jisung

[creativeashproductions]

Magician Behind the Music // Owen Joyner

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

Warning: Swearing, insecurity, oblivious!reader and fluff

Words: 2.1k

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

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

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

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

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

 I find peace in every story you told

 I think of you, I’ll never be alone

 It’s true, true, true

 You know I do, do, do

 Oh, I need you more than words can say

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

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

 Oh, I need you more than words can say

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“When-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The someone being Owen Joyner.

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

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

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

[refinedbuffoonery]

Broken Like Me (1)

masterlist.

THIS FIC IS NOT INTENDED FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. Please see the masterlist for content warnings. 

Here it is, the long-awaited dark!MacRiley AU! First, I want to thank my lovely beta readers and my life-saving brainstorming/workshop buddy. You all know who you are. ❤

This fic adheres to canon through 5x05 and then goes off the fucking rails. Backstory and other important tidbits of information revealed in the latter half of season 5 may be used, but timeline-wise anything after 5x05 does not exist in this fic. Also, Jack is dead and is staying dead, so don’t get your hopes up for a happy ending. 

I will do my best to update this regularly, but hanging out in and writing such dark headspaces is HARD. I will definitely be taking breaks to write fluffier fic, because a big chunk of this story is all hurt and no comfort. 

Without further adieu, let’s get this party started. (It’s not a party. In fact, it’s like...the opposite of a party.) 

*****

They say he was a good man. 

A good soldier. 

A good father. 

A good friend. 

They say they are sorry for her loss, sorry he was taken from this world too soon. 

They say Jack would be proud of the legacy he left behind, would be proud to have gone out in a blaze of glory. 

Riley is sick of it. 

It’s like she’s a teenager, and Jack is leaving her all over again. Only this time it’s worse. This time there’s no coming back. 

The guests at the wake gaze at the folded up American flag on the fireplace mantle with deep respect, but Riley only feels anger every time she glimpses the piece of fabric the government sent back in his place. A flag and a life insurance claim feel like a mockery of the kind of man Jack Dalton was. 

Was. Past tense. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

*****

Mac has never been afraid of Riley before. 

He’s seen her angry and upset, but the rage-filled woman he stopped from killing Anya Vitez with her bare hands back in Croatia is someone he does not know. 

The frightening part is that Riley isn’t a hot-headed person. In work mode, she is cold and calculating, so for her to go after Vitez like that...something inside her snapped. 

Three weeks have passed since then, and every time he looks at Riley, Mac remembers holding her back, fingers digging sharply into her waist until she stopped fighting him. He sees the fury radiating off Riley’s body like heat waves off asphalt—sees the way she clings to it, finds purpose in it, letting it consume her so there’s no room for guilt or grief. Mac knows the feeling all too well. And he also knows there will be a very loud thud when she finally comes crashing back down. 

But he also knows that the woman is like a loaded gun, safety off and desperate to fire at something. 

Which is why he worries when Matty calls them in for an op and Riley isn’t there. She’s at Vitez’s trial, Matty informs them, but that doesn’t make Mac feel any better. Whenever there’s downtime during the mission, and Mac’s mind is free to wander, he can't stop thinking about her. This new Riley is becoming obsessively vengeful, and if someone doesn’t reel her back in soon, she might do something she can’t come back from.

The thought plagues Mac every second there aren’t bullets whizzing toward his head. 

After the op, Mac drives to Riley’s apartment. Upon arrival, his ears are assaulted by Riley’s upstairs neighbor blasting Macklemore’s greatest hits. Mac hears the lyrics clear as day, even though both his truck windows and the apartment windows are closed. 

Riley really shouldn’t have moved out of Mac’s house, not if this is her best option. He still doesn’t understand why she did. 

It doesn’t take long to notice the GTO is missing. Riley should be back from the trial by now, but Mac has a sneaking suspicion where she is. 

The drive to Jack’s apartment seems to take forever. The brick building is in an older neighborhood, one of few affordable ones with trees planted along the sidewalks—a luxury in LA. Sure enough, the GTO is parked on the curb, not far from the fire escape that connects to Jack’s living room.

Looking up, Mac spies a familiar body perched on the stairs. 

Riley sits on the fire escape, soaking in the last rays of sunlight. Her eyes are closed, head resting against the brick wall. Mac doesn’t say anything as he sits beside her on the narrow metal stairs, their hips and thighs just touching. 

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Should he hug her? Hold her hand? Leave her alone? Riley isn’t a super touchy person. Mac decides on the latter, picking at his fingernails while his gaze drifts west to study the sunset. 

Several minutes pass before Riley says, “Hey.” Her voice is low and scratchy, like she’s been crying. 

“Hey,” Mac repeats. “How long have you been here?” 

Riley shifts beside him, sitting up. “I don’t know. A while.” 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve come here, is it?” 

A sigh. “No, it’s not.” Mac figures as much. Aside from the constant clamor of the city, Jack’s apartment is relatively quiet. It’s not in the greatest neighborhood, but it’s safe enough for Riley to sit alone and think. Or not think. Whatever she feels like doing. 

Riley rests her head on Mac’s shoulder, and a wave of protectiveness floods his system. It’s new, this need to watch her back more than the others’. It came on so gradually that Mac doesn’t know when it started or what triggered it, only that he feels it all the time now. Especially after Jack’s…

He avoids examining the feeling too closely. 

Without warning, Riley says, “If you hadn’t held me back, I would’ve killed her.” 

Knowing exactly who she was talking about, Mac glances down at Riley in surprise. He knows it’s true—thinks so himself—but hearing it come out of her mouth makes his stomach turn. The last, and only, time Riley killed someone...it took her months to piece herself back together afterward. And that death was in self-defense. 

This one would’ve been murder. Intentional and vindictive. 

Mac isn’t sure Riley could come back from that, at least not as herself. The woman who would emerge from that would be a total stranger inside his best friend’s body. Mac suppresses a shiver. “I know,” he says.

“Thank you for stopping me.” Riley’s voice is quiet. So, so quiet. 

“You would’ve done the same for me.” Gingerly, Mac wraps his arm around Riley’s shoulders, ready to let go at the first sign of her discomfort. When she doesn’t react, he relaxes and holds her more surely. 

The sky is painted in vibrant oranges and reds, fading into deep blue overhead. Subtle strokes of pink outline the scattered clouds hanging above the horizon. Out of all the sunsets Mac has seen, all over the world, nothing quite compares to the ones here at home. He wishes Jack was here to see it. 

Mac spends far too long debating whether to bring it up before asking, “Why did you go to the trial?” Agents, especially secret ones, don’t go to trials, mostly to keep their identities safe. Publicly tying oneself to a case is never a good idea, for more reasons that Mac can begin to name. 

“I swore I’d be there every step of the way. I meant it.” Mac tries not to bristle at the snarling, defensive edge to Riley’s tone. “Eventually, she’ll make a mistake, and I will be there when she does. And then I’m going to rip out her entire organization from the roots up.” 

Fear wraps its ugly hand around Mac’s heart. Until every single person associated with Tiberius Kovac is behind bars, there will be a target on Riley’s back, and Riley will have put it there herself. Losing one person to Kovac is more than enough; Mac refuses to lose Riley too. 

“How can I help you?” 

Riley looks up, eyes wide like she’s expecting him to try to talk her out of it, not offer to help. “You don’t have to do that.” 

“And miss out on all the fun?” Mac almost smiles as he quotes her. Almost. 

She sits up. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m going to hack Interpol first, to see which of her colleagues might also be dirty. So unless you secretly picked up hacking…” 

Mac huffs. “Sorry, I only hack hardware.” He expects some insane, crackhead plan, not something so…reasonable. Maybe Riley isn’t as off-the-rails as he thought. 

But only maybe. 

A seagull perches on the railing below them, honking and squawking for seemingly no reason at all. Gulls are just like that. It glares at Mac, pinning him to his spot with a beady yellow eye, challenging Mac to shoo it away. 

Go find some tourists to harass, Mac wants to snark at it. Leave us alone. 

The seagull cocks its head, as if to say, I know something you don’t. 

Mac narrows his eyes. I bet you do. 

He swears the seagull shrugs before taking off, flying low over the GTO before sailing over rooftops on its way back to the ocean. It passes a billboard advertising a new blockbuster spy thriller, the product of millions of dollars and Hollywood plot recycling. Mac saw the trailer. The movie is about a soldier who joined the CIA in a quest for retribution after his best friend came home in a box. Usually Mac likes watching spy movies—mostly to make fun of them—but this one hits a little too close to home. 

It takes a monumental effort to tear his gaze away. 

When his eyes finally meet Riley’s, Mac understands the silent ache in them—the ache that’s surely reflected in his own eyes. He and Riley are drowning, but at least they’re drowning together. 

Mac frowns. That must be the dimmest “on the bright side” thought he’s ever had. 

Riley doesn’t say anything more, so neither does Mac. They sit on the fire escape until long after the sun sets and the temperature drops, and the city's nightlife stretches its limbs as it wakes. Mac shivers, but Riley seems oddly unaffected by the cold. That or she’s too numb to notice. 

He threads his still semi-warm fingers through her icy ones, letting their joined hands rest on his knee. It seems like his last tether to the Riley he knows and loves, one who’s slowly slipping away from him and being replaced by a woman who might very well bring the world to its knees as payback for all that it’s done to her. 

Mac has no interest in ever meeting that woman. Mostly because he refuses to lose his Riley, but also because Mac knows he won’t be able to resist that other Riley. She will slash his restraint beyond repair, and Mac will follow her to the ends of the earth. 

He will find a way to keep them both afloat. He has to. 

Or else the Phoenix may very well be hunting him and Riley again, and this time, they’ll deserve it.

*****

Entering her apartment later that night, Riley realizes too late that it isn’t empty. Bozer is still there, and he’s making dinner. Locking the door behind her, she hears a rushed, “Got to go, Matty. She’s home.” 

Bozer crashed on her couch the night they got the news and never left. I don't want you to be alone, Bozer keeps saying, despite her insistence she doesn’t need a babysitter. Other than that, they don’t speak to each other much. In fact, Riley wouldn't have noticed he said anything at all if not for the way he stares at her, standing at the stove and twirling a wooden spoon between his fingers. 

"What?" she snaps. 

Carefully, Bozer asks, "How was the trial?" 

"Fine." Riley knows he cares, and that he’s hurting too, but nothing he says or does is going to help her. The sooner he figures that out the better. She drops her keys and jacket on a chair before heading for her bedroom. 

“You hungry?” he calls after her. 

Riley yanks off her boots, chucking them into the closet with too much force. “No.” 

“Have you eaten anything today?” 

Her fuse is running short these days, and she’s just about had it with his incessant smothering and questioning. Riley marches into the kitchen, rolling her shoulders back and bracing her hands on the counter. “Last I checked, I still have a mother, so if you’re just going to keep nagging me, then I think it’s time you get the fuck out of my apartment.” 

Bozer’s eyes widen and his mouth opens, but no sound comes out. 

“Get out,” Riley snarls. 

Still struggling to regain his ability to speak, Bozer stammers, “At least let me finish making you dinner first.” 

“Fine.” Cracking her knuckles, Riley retreats to her bedroom once more. “I’m taking a shower. You better be gone when I come out.” She doesn’t wait for a response. 

When Riley emerges, her dinner is cold, and Bozer is long gone. 

She doesn’t eat.

*****

On the second day of Vitez’s trial, Riley sits in the back of the room long after the trial adjourns for the day, thinking. She didn’t recognize the witnesses who testified today, and as the prosecutor called each one forward, Riley wished she had her laptop so she could look them up. Now, as she stares over the rows of empty wooden seats to the section where the jury sat, Riley can only hope that the witnesses’ testimonies are enough. 

Riley knows there’s more than enough evidence to convict Vitez—especially since she recorded the confession herself—but obsessing over the trial is easier than facing the reality waiting outside the courthouse doors. 

Her mom invited her to visit his grave today, after the trial, but Riley declined. Facing that slab of granite will make it real, make it…permanent. 

She knows what it says. Jack Dalton. Beloved. Gone too soon. Someone asked for her approval before it was made. It doesn’t say nearly enough to encapsulate all that he was, but at the time Riley couldn’t think about it—couldn’t look at it—long enough to suggest any changes. She still can’t. 

Chewing her lip, Riley anxiously toys with her rings, spinning them and moving them from finger to finger. 

At the wake, one of his old Delta buddies joked that the gravestone should read “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers,” but Riley didn’t laugh. 

Riley hasn’t laughed since Matty broke the news. It’s like the part of her that knows how to feel joy died in that explosion too. 

Instead, she wants to scream at the universe until her voice gives out, cursing it for taking her dad away too soon. Because that’s what he is. Her dad. Riley doesn’t even know when she started calling him that again, but if she has to guess, it was sometime between the first “I’m proud of you, honey” and him kicking her ass at skee-ball for the millionth time.

Tears leak from Riley’s eyes without her consent. 

It feels like she failed him, in a way. By not being there. By not keeping him alive. 

Now the best she can do is make sure his death means something. 

Vitez will go to prison for the rest of her life, that Riley is sure of. But the rest of her organization is still out there, and Riley intends on putting every single member behind bars. No amount of justice will even begin to heal the Jack-shaped wound in her heart, but at least the world will be better for it. Safer. 

But she’d rather live in a more dangerous world with him still in it than a safer one without. That way they could save the world together, like they always did. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Anger rumbles through her body, like a Texas thunderstorm in her veins. It’s the only emotion Riley feels anymore, ever since the sadness gave way to numbness. 

A woman in a security uniform pokes her head in the room. “Excuse me, ma’am. I need to lock up for the night.” When Riley doesn’t respond, the woman adds, “Are you okay?” 

Are you okay? Riley hates that question more than all the others. How are you? Have you eaten today? What can I do to help? 

She feels like she’s dying. She can’t eat. Nothing will help. 

But that isn’t what people want to hear. Even Mac asked that last question, yesterday on the fire escape, although Riley didn’t automatically despise the question like she usually did. It’s different coming from him than anyone else; his offer was genuine, not coming from pity or obligation.

She isn’t surprised Mac recognized her need to do something. After all, he had been the same way after his dad was killed. 

Coldly, Riley finally says,“I will be.” The woman doesn’t deserve her abrupt answer, but Riley can’t quite bring herself to care. She lets the anger the questions bring up fuel her, lets it hold her together. 

The anger is all she has left. 

Riley stands, her heels clicking on the floor as she exits the courthouse. 

She’s coming for all the monsters who hurt him. She’s coming for the ones who rendered him nothing more than ashes on the wind, the ones who turned her life into a nightmare she can’t wake up from. 

Because she doesn’t need to wake up to become theirs.

~

Want to be tagged in future chapters? Send me an ask.

#beth writes #dark!MacRiley #macriley #macgyver #angus macgyver #riley davis #mac x riley #macgyver fanfiction

[dykeninthdoctor]

let’s talk about c!wilbur and taste by sleeping at last, aka ava talks about his favorite song + character for a couple thousand words 

to preface this, i’ll say this. this is almost where i want c!wilbur to go, rather than where he is now, but it is all based in where he is now, and everything we have seen so far. this is where i hope, and trust in cc!wilbur, that his character will go.

(after the cut, everything is /rp /dsmp unless otherwise specified)

i am alive. i am awake. i am aware of what light tastes like. the curtains drawn, the table set; i want to be. i want to be at my best.

“i am alive. i am awake.” guys,,,guys. he’s alive! one of the things i have noticed thee most about revivedbur’s most recent scenes is that...he’s alive! like. he’s just. he’s happy to be alive. he wants to watch the sunrise and relish in the feeling of rain against his skin, or at least that’s where he needs to get to. he needs to simply live. 

“i am aware of what light tastes like.” this is very much along the same lines as to what i just said, but it also comes down to healing. light, in taste, represents healing, and love, and wilbur needs to learn the taste of love again.

when it comes to “the curtains drawn,” in the context of wilbur, i think of a theatre. he has always played a character. his clothes are not his clothes, they are a costume, and his face is not his own, it is a mask for his acted emotions to dance across, and his life is not his own, it is a three-act play in which he is the villain; he is the character that he thinks others want him to be. the best line i’ve ever read to sum this up is from the lumineers’ cleopatra, and that’s “but i've read this script and the costume fits, so i'll play my part.” with taste, the curtains are drawn. to me this means they are closed, and wilbur has finally burned the script he’s been following for his life, he is free of the narrative and he has stepped off the stage. 

and with “the table set,” i just. tables are symbolic of family, often, and of union, where you come together, and i hope that that is in wilbur’s future. i want to see him bake with niki, and i want to see him eat dinner with phil, and i want to see him throw an apple to tommy before tommy even needs to ask for food. and i want him to feed himself, in love and in healing and in nourishment of this newly-revived body he has now. 

“i want to be.” guys. GUYS. i’m going to go insane. he wants to be. he wants to exist. he does not want to act anymore, he does not want to play a part, he wants to be. please, please, please, c!wilbur, get to this point. please. 

AND THEN. “i want to be at my best.” NOT ONLY DOES HE WANT TO BE. HE WANTS TO BE AT HIS BEST. AND YET IT IS A PROGRESSION. FIRST HE MUST LEARN TO BE. THEN HE MUST LEARN TO BE BETTER. BUT FIRST, HE MUST SHED THE COSTUME, SHED THE PART, AND BE. ONLY THEN CAN HE BE BETTER. i’m gonna chew drywall. 

okay. next verse here we go: 

it’s bittersweet, it’s poetry. a careful pruning of my dead leaves. it’s holy ground, a treasure chest. i’m on my knees and only scratch the surface.

okayyyyokayokayokay. “it’s bittersweet, it’s poetry. a careful pruning of my dead leaves.“ it’s bittersweet! it’s bittersweet!!! healing is always bittersweet. it hurts, to let pieces of yourself go in order to grow, but it is necessary, and sometimes things aren’t perfect, but it’s poetry! it is poetry as well. it’s beautiful, because you’re healing. it’s a careful pruning of his dead leaves! for things to grow, the death must be removed, and so too must wilbur clear the relics of his past that remain in his mind. he is so attached to the past, in many ways, and he needs to move on, he needs to prune his dead leaves. 

“it’s holy ground, a treasure chest.” sleeping at last is amazing at framing humans as sacred beings. the holy ground is wilbur himself, his own mind, his own body, that he needs to learn to take care of again. he is worthy of love, full of things that prove himself so, and he needs to learn that too. 

and then! “i’m on my knees and only scratch the surface.” he is only beginning to heal! he is only at the surface of this ground that he has broken in beginning his healing process, and there is so much more to come. i think the visual of this line is really interesting too, when you pair it with wilbur’s limbo being somewhere where he clawed at the walls as a plea for escape. and rather than it be that, he is now digging into himself, breaking down his mental walls, in order to heal, something we know he needs when we look at eight and learn that he needs to let people in to be able to heal, and the only way he can do that is to let down his walls. another neat thing about this! is that during “a deck of cards with a green smile on them,” when wilbur begins building the walls to their new hq, he is literally building walls dividing himself and tommy. physical storytelling my beloved :]

okay!! chorus time :D

like fists unraveling, like glass unshattering. we’re breaking all the rules, we’re breaking bread again. we’re swallowing light ’til we’re fixed from the inside

okay so this entire verse is about healing, and the different layers to it, the different things you need to do to heal. first, it’s “fists unraveling,” it’s letting go of your anger, it’s letting go of the past, and it’s unlearning everything you have learned up to this point, because you do not need to be angry anymore, not at the world, because it isn’t necessary to healing. this is also, in some ways, less of c!wilbur and more of his loved ones’, niki being the one who first comes to mind. wilbur’s loved ones need to unlearn their anger towards him, and wilbur needs to learn to let go. the visual aspect of that as well, contributes to letting go; when your fists unravel, you are releasing what you have been holding onto for so long. 

and then we come to “glass unshattering.” this line is so interesting, ryan o’neal’s lyricism my beloved. it’s not glass being put back together, it is glass unshattering, the very inverse of glass breaking, as if the actions are being undone, not simply pieced back together but undone. and in the context of wilbur, he not only needs to make up for what he has done to hurt others, he needs to prove he will not do them again, because he can’t undo those actions! he did them and he cannot change that! but he can undo it in the future, by not doing it again. it’s a fun line to interpret especially because glass...can’t unshatter. it’s an impossible action. he cannot undo what he has done but he can prove he’ll never do it again. 

and thennnnn we’ve got “we’re breaking all the rules.” guysssss, remember what i said about c!wilbur needing to step off the stage to begin healing? not only that, he needs to directly go against the script that he’s written. he needs to break the rules of the confines he’s trapped himself in. he is not a villain, he is a person, and he needs to tear up his script. 

“we’re breaking bread again.” OKAY. OKAY SO. SO. i’m a big bread person. bread is everything to me. bread is love!! food itself is just. pure love!!! one of the purest forms of love you can get!! someone has made that for you and it is imbued with love!! they said here this is a piece of me for you to consume!! a piece of my love, for you to have inside of you!! this is a good compilation post to sum up how i feel about bread, but when you bring wilbur into it? again, it goes back to the symbolism of the table, and how he just. needs to heal his relationships. it’s “we’re” baking bread, it’s togetherness and it’s family and it’s consuming a food that represents love, together. he needs to break bread with his loved ones. (i would also love to see him bake with niki. might expand on this one.)

and then we go from that line to “we’re swallowing light ’til we’re fixed from the inside.” like i said, food is something that someone has made and they have said ‘this is a piece of my love for you to have inside you.’ love is light, and love is food, so food is light, and swallowing light? it’s swallowing love, it’s swallowing the purest forms of love you can get and it is stitching you back together from inside. wilbur needs that. 

out of the woods, out of the dark, i’m well aware of the shadows in my heart. i want to feel tectonic shifts. i want to be. i want to be astonished. i want to be astonished. so i propose a toast:

"out of the woods, out of the dark.” wilbur has been trapped in his own mind for so long, quite literally with his limbo taken into account, and more metaphorically with his own mental spirals that he, so far, has been unable to break out of, but in the process of healing he will achieve that. out of the woods tends to mean out of the worst of it, and i think the wilbur we see genuinely already might be. he will escape the darkness of his own mind, he has escaped his own limbo, his personal hell, and he’s out of the worst of it. he has a long way to go, but he’s out of the woods. 

with “i’m well aware of the shadows in my heart” it’s so wilbur it aches. it’s like. wilbur’s mind, and mental state, is so very complicated, and he is not aware of the impact he has on others, not entirely, but he also is, because he accepts the role of villain wholeheartedly because he thinks that’s what he deserves from the shadows in his heart, but i think in doing so, he still doesn’t realize what it means for his loved ones. it’s just. he’s so complicated. he knows of his own “evilness,” his shadows, but he doesn’t know of his hurt and pain and trauma because that’s buried even deeper than these created shadows, they are the real shadows, and for him to heal, he needs to become aware of those.

“i want to feel tectonic shifts” goes hand in hand with “this is my sunrise.” he wants to experience the world around him again, to be alive, to feel the earth under himself and the wind against his face. he’s alive and he wants to feel it. and shifts, internally, he wants to feel those too!! he wants to grow. 

“i want to be,” i’ve already talked about, and this time it’s paired with “i want to be astonished.” not only does he want to be, to exist, to be at his best, he wants to! experience life! with all the awe he once felt! wilbur at his core is so very loving, and he wants to feel that for the world again. and it’s repeated twice! awe can come, not only for the world, but for the people he loves. 

which leads into, “so i propose a toast:” this line goes directly into the chorus, and it’s so specific. a toast is an acknowledgement, a celebration, something i imagine that wilbur used when they won their independence, or before the election, or even in pogtopia, the night before they went into battle. and this time, it’s a celebration of simply. life. of healing. of mending. ryan o’neal, the songwriter (aka sleeping at last himself) said that “Because food builds and rebuilds our bodies, I liked the idea of raising a glass to healing broken relationships, and trying to be at our best. There’s so much vulnerability required to rebuild a relationship, and to just try harder...” this is what the toast is to. 

chorus again:

to fists unraveling, to glass unshattering. to breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. we’re swallowing light, we’re swallowing our pride. we’re raising our glass ’til we’re fixed from the inside. ’til we’re fixed from the inside.

and then the bridge: 

we’re nothing less than a work in progress, sacred text on post it notes. we only speak of a world in pieces, let’s make a map of what matters most, where every fracture is a running river leading us back to our golden coasts. here’s to showing up:

these are my Favorite lines of the whole song so. aaaa

we start off with “we’re nothing less than a work in progress” which is. everything c!wilbur needs to learn. he plays his roles, he acts the part, but he doesn’t understand that he’s allowed to be imperfect, that he’s allowed to continue to grow. wilbur is stagnant, in a way, that while he moves from “role” to “role,” first the idealistic general and then the quietly-traumatized president, and finally the unhinged villain, he doesn’t let himself just be. a person, he doesn’t let himself be in progress! and additionally, since it’s a “we,” he needs to learn that other people are not stagnant either. tommy is not the same as he once was, no one is the same as they once were, as everyone is in progress, and wilbur needs to learn both of those things. 

AND THEN. “sacred text on post it notes.” GUYS. HUMANS ARE SACRED. THEY'RE SACRED! but they are also messy and imperfect and so, so, fallible, they are post-it notes with scrawled handwriting scattered across the wall that is their life, and sometimes post-it notes will fall off, and sometimes they will be written in pen rather than pencil, and sometimes they are written so messily they cannot be understood, but they are sacred and they are messy and those things coexist and god does ex-gifted kid c!wilbur need to learn this. 

“we only speak of a world in pieces.” this is Such a cool line when you consider that the dream smp is made up of complicated perspectives that only the audience is privy to, and the characters are so limited! their world is literally spoken in pieces, especially with the lack of communication. it’s a neat line in meta form, and when applied to wilbur, i think it’s part of the same mentality. it is “we,” and he needs to learn to not only speak of this world with himself, but with others, in order to “make a map of what matters most.” he cannot rely on only the pieces he has, and he must speak with others to glean the pieces that are just as important. map making in itself is a neat metaphor, it tends to mean a direction one could take, or getting more of a full picture in that you’re seeing the whole world (or whatever the map has been made of), rather than just what’s in front of you. in order to make this map, wilbur needs to talk, and begin to understand what does matter, because his concept of that, right now, is skewed. 

“where every fracture is running river leading us back to our golden coasts” is soo vivid, and to me it like. it feels so much like l’manburg. l’manburg was their golden coast. and l’manburg is gone, but its people aren’t, and l’manburg was always about the people. and now, these people are all broken, they are fractured, but they are healing, and in their healing, those dynamic rivers, they will find their ways back to each other, and l’manburg, its spirit, will live in them again. 

 the transition into the chorus this time, is no longer a toast, not explicitly, but it is an acknowledgment “to showing up” and c!wilbur needs to show up to therapy. but also, showing up simply means being present, not only for others, but for yourself, and it is one of the first steps to healing, so, in a way, this is a very non-linear song about c!wilbur’s journey. 

then there’s the chorus again:

to fists unraveling, to glass unshattering. to breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. we’re swallowing light, we’re swallowing our pride. we’re raising our glass ’til we’re fixed from the inside. ’til we’re fixed from the inside.

and that’s it! if you made it this far, i’m kissing you in the forehead. thank you so much for reading, c!wilbur enthusiasts i’m holding your hands. 

#c!wilbur #wilbur soot analysis #dsmp #wilbur soot #c!wilbur soot #i have been working on this for the past two days this is why like zero other posts have been rb'd #good lord my brain hurts #aven.txt

[xpeachesncream]

acquainted | nine

> series masterlist | series playlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: jungkook x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.5k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, jealousy, alcohol consumption, dancing/event scene, a lil bit of that good ol’ phone sex

tags: @laurynne5 @yiyi4657 @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead @bluesharksandfish@photographic-girl @yonkoghan @moonchild1​ @thebeebi​ (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

You were a little relieved when Jungkook had mentioned that Jin and Grace wouldn't be able to make the charity event tonight. You weren't sure how you'd manage being in one place with all of them at the same time. Plus, your chaotic friends? Absolutely not.

Jungkook is driving you both to the campus event, with his hand resting contently on your thigh, the slit of your dress giving way to his large hand. You honestly really loved seeing his tattooed hand against your skin; it was attractive in many ways you couldn't explain. You donned a simple, satin black camisole dress with a cowl neck and slit to accentuate your legs. Jungkook wore a black turtleneck, slacks and a long blazer-like coat with black Chelsea boots.

If people were to see you together on the streets, you definitely would have looked like a serious couple who had been dating for years.

"Y/N!" Ryujin squeals as she runs [waddles] at you full throttle, heels on and all. She grips you into a tight hug, before smiling down at you and quickly observing your neck just to make sure. No, bitch. The hickeys are still gone! When she's satisfied with what she sees, she turns her attention towards Jungkook. "Jungkook! Wow you both are so fucking hot, it's insane." She grips onto his arms as she looks at up and down before pulling him into a hug.

"Definitely all Y/N, but thank you." He laughs as you both follow her. As you had entered the huge hall with high ceilings and old-fashioned chandeliers hanging, you caught a glimpse of Jimin and Taehyung in their suits. Boy, did your friends and Jungkook look fine as fuck tonight.

"Woah, you two." You hug Jimin and Taehyung before tugging on their blazers and fixing their cuffs.

"Like what you see?" Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows, making you shake your head. At this point, you've really run out of responses to clap back at him with. He came up with something new every time. "What's up, Jungkook?" Taehyung gently pushes you aside to casually greet Jungkook, along with Jimin.

"Dude, this charity event is way too fancy." Jimin laughed. "Majority of the people here are like, over 60 years old."

"Just wait, maybe more people from our class will show up." You chuckle. "It's for a good cause, I'm sure there's more people on the list than we think."

"Or maybe now, the party will finally start since Dj D-Sharp is setting up." Ryujin points to the DJ setting up his gear at the front of the hall.

"Fuck, finally." Jimin says, downing the champagne in his hand. You look at him, eyebrow raised because one, what kind of day did this dude have to be drinking like that? And two, he always drank alcohol like it was water, gulping it down in one motion. The fuck? "What?"

"What happened?" You chuckled, Jungkook's arm snaking around your waist as he talked to Ryujin and Tae next to you. He didn't seem too shy around them. Either that, or he just meshed well with your friends.

"Honestly, I'm just trying to feel good so I can call someone over to fuck." Your eyes widen. He was definitely allowed to drink more tonight, being that Taehyung offered to drive. Very unlike Jimin, but to each their own!

"Ohhhh, like that? Okay. Well, let's get you there then." You slowly nod in agreement. Remember, you always support your friends! [except Taehyung because that fool is dumb sometimes and he needed to deal with his own consequences] But especially Jimin; He needs some fun! You excuse yourself to get more alcohol with Jimin at the bar, Dj D-Sharp already starting to spin some ratchet, oakland-ish music even if the crowd was looking the way it was.

"You and Jungkook look nice together, Y/N." He says, clinking his glass against yours. "Seriously. He looks like a good guy." You smile toothlessly.

"Yeah, he is." No lie, Jungkook really was. Too good, almost. Every little thing he did made you feel guilty.

"One more? Should hold me out for awhile." You roll your eyes cause he was sure as hell lying, but you take the shot anyways. By the time you two are done making sour faces and sucking on limes, you begin to make your way back towards your date and friends.

And Seokjin and Grace, apparently?

You deadass almost stop in your tracks, noticing Jungkook speaking to Jin and hugging Grace tightly. The room feels like a sauna, and your throat feels like it's closing in on itself. This was the first time you were seeing her in person, and honestly, she was cute as hell. Suddenly, the guilt goes away and you feel.. bold. You want to tease Jin and you want him to want you, even given the circumstances we're in right now. You wanted him to want you so bad that he couldn't take it anymore.

"Bitch—" Ryujin places another shot glass in your hand. "I know you need this more than I do." You take it to the neck with ease like you weren't just making sour faces with Jimin minutes ago and place the empty glass on the table next to you. "I thought he wasn't coming!"

"I thought so too!"

"Oh, here! This is my date, Y/N." Jungkook happily swoops you by the waist and brings you forward to meet Grace.

"Uh, hi." You tuck a strand behind your ear, quickly glancing at Jin who is awkwardly standing there with his hands in his pockets. He simply looks at you, his hair swept and lightly gelled to the sides like it usually is and exposing his forehead; god, is he purely fuckable right now. Grace quickly catches the awkward look, but brushes it off and beams a big smile before opening her arms.

"Oh my god, she's so pretty Gookie!" She pulls you into a hug and you're internally screaming right now because what the fuck is even going on?! "Hi, I'm Grace. Jin's fiancé." She smiles from ear to ear.

"Mmm, yeah. I've heard a lot about you" You flash a toothless smile and nod. "Or a little." You clear your throat and mumble under your breath, shooting Jin another look. Ryujin is secretly pinching your back from behind for the unnecessary comment. Luckily, Grace doesn't hear the last statement, and giggles it off before swinging her arm around Jin's waist and placing her other hand against his chest. You hear Taehyung clear his throat behind you to break the awkward silence, so you shake your head and step aside for them to come into view. "This is Ryujin, Jimin and Taehyung." They all wave at her sweetly.

"Nice to meet you." Ryujin smiles before turning to your group. "Food, anyone? Looks like they set the trays of finger food down." She points to the table off towards the wall. Grace and Jin follow behind your group, Jungkook separating you from each other. Jin looks down to see Jungkook holding your hand tightly before his entire arm snakes up around your shoulders. He watches from behind as Jungkook feeds you with a small finger sandwich, you both laughing and smiling at each other.

Yeah, he shouldn't have come. Not if he was going to see this all night. But Grace had insisted being that she was finally home early for once.

You and Jungkook make your way to the dance floor to dance and keep it PG for the older audience around you. You still had fun, nonetheless, comfortably dancing and singing along to the songs with Jungkook. Occasionally, he'd wrap his arm around your neck as you both bounced to the beat and recited lyrics. You had fun with Jungkook. He was definitely into a lot of the same things you were, especially music-wise. It was easy to vibe with him. But the thing that separates him from Jin is the chase, the high of doing something so wrong but actually having it feel so goddamn right. Jungkook was like being served on a silver platter - prim and proper, easy.

For a minute, you're dancing with your friends, while Jungkook is dancing with Grace and Jin in front of your group. You figured you could start teasing Jin a bit more, playing this little game he absolutely couldn't stand. You smirk at Ryujin, who furrows her brows at you, confused at what you're trying to hint at here. Jimin and Taehyung are drunkily dancing, too busy woo'ing old ladies and buying alcohol for new friends they've been meeting.

You snake your arms around Jungkook, tugging him back towards you. He smiles as he turns and is now wrapping his arms around you. You both are slightly bouncing to the beat of the song while he looks down at you.

"What's up, pretty lady?" You pout.

"I just want a kiss."

"I think I can help with that." You tug onto the sides of his coat, tippy-toeing up to plant a good, soft kiss on his lips.

"I know she isn't right now." Ryujin says to herself, keeping her gaze on you as she dances awkwardly off beat since she's too busy watching you. She was 100% fully aware of what you were doing; You didn't need to tell her twice.

"Jeez, what happened? You're normally a good dancer." Taehyung says getting in her view, causing her to shove him aside.

"Out of my face!" She groans.

Jin occasionally glanced at you and Jungkook every time Grace had been looking away, feeling completely bothered. He caught you staring back at him with a small smirk over Jungkook's shoulder when he came down to envelope you in his long arms. He wasn't trying to play with you right now, and if he could, he'd probably take your ass to the car and fuck you senseless in that dress.

"Why are you being so cute?" Jungkook chuckles as he turns you around so he can hug you from behind and place kisses on your temple, you both now facing toward Jin and Grace.

"Just wanted a little attention." He sneaks a kiss onto your neck, causing you to close your eyes at the feeling of his lips against the surface of your skin. Suddenly, you feel the urge to head to the bathroom, the alcohol begging to be released from your body. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom really quickly."

"Want me to come with and wait for you?" You shook your head and pointed to your friends.

"I'll be good. Make sure you watch these drunkies, though." He nods and joins your friends on the dance floor. You actually really need to fucking pee, and the restroom inside the hall is out of service, leaving one stall available and a long line to accompany it. So, you exit the hall and turn to head towards the student center, where the bathrooms were located just around the corner. You felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders when you broke the seal, making you sigh contently as you flush the toilet and wash up in front of the mirrors. As you're happily making your way back, you feel hands grip your wrist and pull you under a dimly lit corner by the bathroom, completely isolated and almost eerie.

This was it. This is where your life comes to an end—

"Y/N." You hear Jin's voice breathily call your name.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Talking to you." His face slightly comes under the only small, weak light plastered on the building wall. "What does it look like?" You feel yourself getting weak, examining the sharp features on his face - his lips and how plump they are, his jaw, his eyes.

"I didn't know you were coming." You say softly.

"I didn't either." He pulls you closer to him, the both of you now in the dark and away from the dim light. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm not doing anything to you." You feel his hand come down to the small of your back as he gently presses you against him.

"You know what you're doing." He says, almost at a whisper, sending chills down your spine. "You look beautiful tonight."

"You don't look too bad yourself, Kim."

"Your dress—" He leans forward to whisper in your ear. "Your dress makes me want to do so many things to you." You let out a breath, your pussy throbbing at the way he's speaking to you.

"We should get back before anyone realizes we've been gone for too long." You say lowly, your lips only inches away from his.

"Yeah, we should." He responds, but his lips are only getting closer to yours and you do nothing to stop it. You return the kiss, your hands gripping at his blazer as you bring him closer. The only sounds filling the air are the wet, slow kisses being exchanged between you and Seokjin.

"Jin, stop. No." You gently push him away, your hands pressed against his chest. "Don't. Not here." You look at him before walking off.

Fuck.

Even if your ass went home with Jungkook tonight, you couldn't even see yourself fucking him because of Seokjin solely. You were too caught up and that was the fucking truth. There was no way you were unraveling from his finger. He had you wrapped tightly and you had no intention of even trying to let that shit go.

That's the tea. The honest tea.

"What happened?" Jungkook comes to you, feeling how cold your skin is as he rubs his hands down your arms.

"Had to take a detour." You nodded towards the line at the hall bathroom.

"Shit, sorry babygirl. You should have used my jacket."

"I'm okay. Thank you." You smile, gently squeezing his hand before making your way to your friends. Sooner or later, all of you decide to call it a night being that the crowd is slowly dying and you've all had your fill. Jungkook says bye to Jin and Grace, with you following. Jin keeps his eyes on you, even as you're walking away and out of the hall.

He really hopes you aren't staying with Jungkook tonight.

And, you're not. Jungkook simply drives you home and walks you up to your apartment like he usually does. He gives you a peck on the lips outside of your door before he's able to finally pull away from the hug he has you in and wish you goodnight. You had fun, and it gave you butterflies thinking about tonight. But you weren't exactly thinking about your friends and Jungkook and all that cute shit; you were thinking about how you succeeded, with Jin pulling you aside to lay some kisses on you even with the environment you two were in. Risky shit. Risky business. You fucking loved it.

You decide to pick yourself up out of the long, steamy, hot bath you soaked yourself in for the past 30 minutes or hour, you aren't even sure anymore. Your body felt relaxed and you felt like you could go to sleep peacefully. You lathered your body in some lotion, happily slipping your naked body under the covers. Sometimes, you just needed to do this every once in awhile. Show some love to your body, let it free. Your duvet covers felt nice against your skin, with you sinking in deeper until the comforter hugged every inch of your body.

As you were about to go to sleep, your phone flashed an incoming call across the screen. An incoming call you almost expected after tonight.

"Hello?"

"Hey." Jin's voice is deep and husky on the other end, causing you to bite your lip at how awfully sexy he sounds. It instantly reminds you of the way he groans your name. Quite frankly, it's turning you on.

"Why are you calling?"

"Can't sleep."

"I'm assuming Grace is asleep already."

"Yeah, she is." You hear him fiddling in the background, door softly shutting as he makes his way around the house and out to his car. Jin sits in the driver's seat just so he can talk to you without having to quiet himself down. Truthfully, he just wanted to hear your voice. "Did you enjoy tonight?"

"Yeah, it was enjoyable at best. Did you?"

"Besides the fact that I had to watch Kook be all up on you, I guess it was alright."

"Jealousy honestly looks good on you." You joke.

"It's not funny, Y/N."

"Boohoo." You sarcastically respond, chuckling.

"Yeah, keep it up. What are you doing?" You bit your bottom lip, excited to get him started again.

"I'm in bed. Naked."

"Mmm." He breathily responds. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"Don't tell me these things."

"But I am. Why would I hide it? You've seen me naked."

"That doesn't help anything." You're honestly feeling yourself right now, and you're pretty fucking horny hearing his voice alone. You wanted him badly, but you couldn't have him. You just wanted to feel him after tonight, be in his arms, have him tug on your hair - all that good good. Teasing was the next best thing you could do, an added bonus if he could make you cum over the phone.

"Jin." You say softly.

"Mhm?"

"I want you." It's silent for a moment before he sighs and lightly groans.

"Y/N, god. Please don't."

"I wish you could fuck me right now." You hear him mumble a quick 'fuck' before he's sighing again.

"Are you touching yourself?"

"What would you do if I said yes?"

"Let me hear you." You bite your bottom lip as you're actually moving your fingers in circular motions on your clit, a heel planted on the bed to give yourself more room. You moan into the phone, Jin staying completely quiet on the other end. You weren't sure if he was joining along, but whatever, fuck it. You were just worried about cumming at this point, whether he came with you or not.

"I want you to fuck me so bad. I want you to—mmmmfff." You lightly moan. "I want you to fill me up, and fuck me from behind. And pull on my hair like you do."

"Fuck, Y/N." He breathes as he begins to palm himself. "I swear I'm gonna fuck you so good the next time I can have you to myself." You start to insert a digit into your wet pussy, the sounds filling the air. You had shut your eyes, imagining that Jin was there the entire time with his plump lips pressed against your clit, causing you to moan loudly once more into the phone. The sounds of your wetness against your fingers loudly fills the room, you're sure Jin can hear it.

"Can you hear how wet you make me?"

"You're so fucking hot." He softly groans. "Wanna feel you so bad." You start to pick up the pace with your fingers, alternating between pumping them in and spreading your wetness out on your folds before rubbing on your clit.

"Wanna feel you deep inside of me, hitting my spot." You whine. "God, I'm gonna cum just thinking about it."

"Yeah?" You feel yourself getting close, only moments away before you tip and hurl over the edge. "Cum for me, baby. I wanna hear you." Jin is so fucking turned on right now just hearing you, and it's taking everything in him not to drive off and head to your place. He will literally blow his load right into his boxer briefs with the way you're talking and moaning for him. He quietly sits as he continues to palm and slowly jerk himself off in the car, listening to the way you're moaning loudly over the phone, calling his name along with cuss words trailing. He tilts his head back in pleasure, his eyes shut as he listens to your tone increase, signaling that you were about to cum.

"Ughhhhhgggfuck." You say as you let your body tremble freely, aftershocks rippling through your body as you release your fingers.

"Fuck." You hear Jin groan. "Thanks, now I have to clean myself up."

"You're welcome."

"I wanna see you soon."

"I don't know how you're going to make that happen."

"I'll find a way, I always do. Will you let me come see you?"

"Yeah." Is all you say, because you do want to see him. You do want to be with him and you do want to be in his arms.

"Okay." It's silent for a minute before he chimes in again. "I'll let you get some sleep, I need to get back inside anyways."

"Mmmkay." You hum.

"Night, pretty girl."

"Goodnight to you too, Jin." You sit your phone back onto your night stand before getting up to wash yourself up once again. At this point, you weren't even sure of your own feelings. Did you just enjoy fucking Seokjin because of the thrill and all the risks? Or, were you actually falling for him? There were so many things that you didn't entertain with Jungkook or other men because you couldn't see it being anyone else other than Jin. You wanted him to hold you, you wanted him to cater to you, you wanted him. But you always had to come to terms with the painful truth.

#bts #bts fanfiction #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts jin #bts jin smut #seokjin smut #bts imagines #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts au #bts au fic #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #jin fluff #jin angst #jin smut #kim seokjin series #acquainted series #writing

[talkfastromance4]

4. Minefields--Ashton Irwin ‘Lovers in a Song’ series

a/n: So while each ‘chapter’ is titled after a song it’s more of the mood and a few choice lyrics that really made the story. This story changed a lot as I wrote it but in the end it all flows really nicely together. I’m so excited to share this with you! Each part is 3,000 with the exception of the last part. Please don’t hesitate to send me messages, I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Word count: 3k

warnings: PLEASE READ THIS FIRST, there is physical abuse in this, it is minimal/accidental and happens after drinking/drug usage please, please read with caution, drug use mentioned briefly but no particular drug named, aftermath of drugs, aftermath of hit, more angst

Masterlist

LIAS masterlist

***

1 Year Ago

Cressida is flipping through her magazine on the couch in her hotel suite in Italy. She’s here on a promotional trip for the newest Brandy she helped design. It has a hint of vanilla and is in a beautiful gold bottle. Ashton gave her the idea.

Ashton is also in the hotel across the street. She wonders if he’s thinking of her too. The last time they were together they got into a big fight about Gavin and Lucinda. Ashton’s heard rumors he’s a part of a large drug cartel involving opioids, hallucinogens, the whole nine yards. Cressida disagreed because that’s all just rumors to stir the pot.

She fired back that Lucinda is only after Ashton’s money and plans on taking it all in a large divorce battle where she’d play victim. Ashton told her she was insane and they both left the hotel in huffs of fury.

She flips past a page that has her and Gavin blown up on both pages while they were out walking for lunch. The small article claims there’s “trouble in paradise and alcohol might be at risk.” Gavin has been partying a lot more recently and doesn’t come home until five a.m. most days. Cressida checks the watch on her wrist that matches the bracelet Ashton gifted her.

It’s nearly 2 in the morning now, her jet lag is still a nuisance. She glances to the open window and sees movement in Ashton’s room behind the white curtain. The only way she knows it’s his room is because that’s where they stayed while they were here that wonderful summer.

Her lips are pursed as she contemplates and thinks, eyes glancing to the pink rotary phone and the short yet oh so far distance to where Ashton is. Giving in, she reaches for the phone and dials the hotel’s number asking for the room Mr. Irwin is staying it. When asked who they should say is calling she told them, “say it’s Miss Gold.”

The phone hums in her ear and she saunters over the window waiting to hear his voice and to hopefully see him in the window.

“It’s you,” his voice is soft and quiet. He almost sounds relieved.

“It’s me,” she smiles and begins to pace. “I know this might be a mistake calling you this late but…”

“But what angel?”

The use of her nickname is a sign that he misses her too. She moves in front of the window and sees his silhouette facing her.

“These dreams I have of you aren’t real enough.”

He’s silent for a beat.

“Is he there with you?”

“No, he’s at some club. He doesn’t get back until early in the morning anyway, I could come over and—”

Cressida stops short because she hears a woman’s voice behind Ashton asking if he ordered the turn down service yet. Her heart sinks as she watches in horror when Lucinda wraps her arms around Ashton, their silhouettes become one large shadow. There’s a lump in Cressida’s throat and her vision becomes blurred with tears.

“Is that them? Let me tell them there were used towels—hello? I’d like to complain—”

Cressida slams the pink phone in its cradle, the ringer tings loudly as her tears fall in rage and hurt. She shuts her curtain and falls into bed falling asleep by draining the sadness from her heart.

There’s a New Year’s Eve Party happening at The Golden Lion and Cressida is there with Gavin. When she spotted Ashton by himself at the bar with a friend of his, Luke she thinks is his name, she wants to put on a show for him since Lucinda is absent.

Cressida’s felt embarrassed ever since that phone call to him in Italy. Clearly there’s something going on between Ashton and Lucinda, right? More than just publicity? Cressida downed two lemon shots in a row, loving the sweet and sour taste of the lemon and sugar.

Anytime she and Gavin were in eyesight of Ashton, she’d drape herself over Gavin and laughed extra loud. Sober, she’d hate herself for acting this petty, but being intoxicated made it all appear crystal clear. She could feel Ashton’s gaze on her the whole night until she ducked away to the bathroom.

When she exited she caught sight of Gavin with his hand up some woman’s dress and she’s giggling at something he’s saying in her ear. Cressida sees red, because not only is Ashton happy in his ‘relationship’ leaving her in the dust, but Gavin is also doing it for all the world to see.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cressida shrieks making her way towards Gavin.

The girl he was hitting on gasps then quickly ducks away back into the main hall where the party is. Gavin sighs rolling his neck from side to side before facing Cressida.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re hurt about this,” he scoffs. “Why don’t you go run to Irwin?”

“What are you talking about? You can’t be seen making out with someone who isn’t me, not when our relationship is in the spotlight 24/7.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t need me to be in the spotlight. You don’t need anyone because you’re Cressida Leigh James, the princess of Brandy because your great grandaddy double-crossed his partner. Guess that does run in the family.”

Cressida felt like she got slapped. While her and Gavin’s relationship is merely for public eye, they always seemed to have gotten along pretty well. She thought they were somewhat friends, but she has been double-crossing him this whole time. She’s been double-crossing her entire family from three years ago.

“You really think I want to marry you?” Gavin stalks closer to her and she backs away, he’s never acted this way with her before. “You’re a selfish rich girl expecting that everyone loves you. I never did and I never will, so when it is announced that we are to be married, I’ll be as faithful as you’ve been to me. See you at midnight.”

He shoves past her and Cressida is left alone with her shame and guilt. It falls out of her from her tears that won’t seem to stop. She hobbles from the room to go back into the bathroom, she’ll stay there for the rest of the night. No one wants her. Ashton has Lucinda, Gavin has everyone else. While she’s swiping at her cheeks trying to dry her tears, she collides into someone and by the smell of his cologne she knows exactly who.

“Cressida? What happened?” Ashton asks steadying her by her shoulders.

“It’s not like you care,” she cries trying to continue her way past him.

“What are you talking about? Did Gavin hurt you? I’ll kill him, I swear I’ll—”

“I’ve hurt myself. I’m hurting other people, too. Leave me alone, Ash, you should be with Lucinda.”

“Angel—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I should have known you’d be right here waiting in the wings for her to fall back into bed with you, Irwin,” Gavin’s voice strikes her like a whip. “I came to apologize but I was right. You are a slut for him.”

“Watch your mouth, de Poiters,” Ashton warns shifting Cressida behind him. He takes a step closer to Gavin, his fingers twitching. He’s wanted to punch Gavin ever since he saw he’s been linked with Cressida.

Gavin laughs and comes toe to toe with Ashton, Cressida sniffles watching what will happen. She’s thankful no one else is around, but at the same time she almost wishes there were people witnessing. Then this whole hidden façade could end.

“You hit me then everyone will know about you. Even her Daddy.”

Ashton clenches his jaw and Cressida gasps. Why would he say it like that?

“I know a lot more than you two think,” he jeers. “But I guess I owe you thanks, because I don’t ever have to fuck her.”

Ashton’s fist connects with Gavin’s nose in record speed. Cressida shouts in surprise and watches in horror as they tousle, fists colliding with flesh and snatching onto shirts trying to get more than one hit in.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” Cressida cries trying to break them up.

A defensive backhand meant for Ashton strikes Cressida’s cheek and she falls to the floor with a pained scream. Her vision turns black and spotty, and her ear is ringing from the commotion above her.

“You bastard!”

“I didn’t mean to! Cress, are you all right? I’m sorry, please, I didn’t mean to hit you. I took some pills to ease off tension and—”

“Shut the fuck up and get away from her,” Ashton seethes shoving Gavin against the wall. His face is centimeters away from Gavin’s. “If I hear you talk disrespectfully to her again or if you lay a hand on her, I will kill you with my own bare hands. If you have any drugs that are near her, you get rid of them, you hear me?”

“Y-yes. Please, I’m sorry. I need to make sure she’s—”

“She’s not your concern now because you’re on a trip. Sober up and get out of my sight,” Ashton threatens pushing him towards the door. “She’s going to be with me until you stop acting like a fucking teenager and if I hear you’re anywhere near this building, I’ll have you arrested to rot in prison for life.”

Gavin gives one last pleading look to Cressida who is rubbing at her cheek before leaving. Ashton rushes to her side, his fingers graze at the shine on her cheek. It’s already bruising, and she flinches at his touch, her eye clamped shut.

“It’s me. He’s gone and I’m right here,” he soothes keeping his hand hovering above her face. “Can I help you up?”

She nods sniffling, her hands reaching out for him. She’s off balance from drinking and her head is still spinning from the backhand. Ashton helps her walk but it’s hard for her, so he just lifts her into his arms. She cries out in pain when her cheek rubs against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he hushes, “I’ll take you up to our room and clean you up.”

“Okay,’’ she whimpers, lips trembling. She closes her eyes to blink and when she opens them again she’s staring at their room. Her ears are ringing and it’s hard to see through her puffy eyes, both from crying and the slap.

“I’m setting you on the bed and I’ll call Louisa to send up your clothes and a first aid kit,” Ashton tells her. When he sets her on the bed he removes his hands from her like a hot iron. “No one will know what happened, okay?”

Cressida sways in her spot on the bed, her head feels really heavy and all she wants to do is sleep. It seems like forever until Ashton is back in front of her with a pile of clothes she keeps here that the staff washes and a first aid.

“Do you want to change first or have me clean your cheek?” Ashton’s voice is so soft it reminds her of a feather.

“Change. My feet hurt,” she whispers.

He helps her change out of her dress and into the sleep shorts and t-shirt. She lets out a cry when the fabric touches her cheek, he quickly apologizes then opens the kit. His fingers are very cool and gentle as he splays them on her cheek inspecting it.

“You’re bruising already,” he breathes then dabs at it with an alcohol wipe.

“Ow!” she cries.

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos sympathizing with her pain. “I need to clean it and Louisa brought up an ice pack so we can bring down the swelling.”

Tears roll down her cheeks as he cleans her up, he comments on what he’s doing, how well she’s handling it, and when he’s almost finished. He places a small band-aid on the small cut that’s on the apple of her cheek.

“You’re all done,” he kisses her hand then rests the ice pack on her cheek. She winces again when he places her hand over it to keep it on the most swollen part of her bruise. “What can I have the front desk send up for you?”

“Water,” she croaks, “and bread.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He’s gone again and she feels oh so tired, so she lays down on her side letting the ice pack stay on its own. It’s hard to see because her eye is swollen shut, the pack feels good on her bruise. She wants Ashton.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” his voice soothes, and she’s being lifted to the center of the bed. Cressida crawls onto his chest, his arms wrap around her protectively. Hesitantly, and very carefully, he kisses the top of her head.

He helps her drink the water that’s sent up and feeds her the bread in small pieces, it hurts her to chew. And all the while he holds her, his heart aching for her yet also bursting in happiness by being with her. He lays the blanket over them and holds the ice pack on her cheek while she sleeps. It’s a restless night, whenever she turns she lets out a small cry and Ashton is quick to pacify her.

The next morning, she can only see him out of her left eye because her right is shut completely. Ashton smiles at her warmly but then memories of the night before come creeping back. Gavin’s words, his and Ashton’s fight that resulted with her on the floor. Ashton’s lip is cut but other than that he still looks perfect.

“I bet I look horrible,” she croaks trying to sit up then groans. Her body feels like cement and her head is pounding. She lays her head back down gingerly on Ashton’s chest.

“You’re always beautiful,” his fingers rub over her hair, “you’re just a little bruised up right now.”

They lay in silence as the sun starts to rise, the light lifting higher and higher on the wall facing the window. The steady beat of his heart is a familiar tune to her ears. She’s been graced to be in his presence five months earlier than they planned and from what she remembers from last night, she’ll be here with him until Gavin’s sober.

That could take months.

“He’s never hit me before,” she tells him quietly. His fingers pause on her back. “And I know it was an accident. He’s also never talked to me how he did.”

“He was on something, Cressida. That’s why he was acting the way he was. I know it’s fake between you two, but I thought he had respect for you. I want to make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not with you. I meant what I said, you know.”

She shifts her head so she can look at him properly. He’s a little blurry from her distorted vision, there’s some scruff on his chin. The cut on his lip is dry and she’s confused.

“You were hit more than me and I’m the one who looks worse. And I know you did, thank you for helping me.”

“It’s always the beautiful things that suffer the most damage,” he kisses her head giving her a sad look. “I’ve missed you.”

“Lucinda wouldn’t like to hear that.”

“She’s not here.”

“She was with you in Italy.”

“Is that what has you so upset? I had to accompany her for fashion week, my whisky was the premiered drink. You honestly think I wouldn’t have called you over to my hotel room if she weren’t there?”

“Really?” she smiles but it’s more of a grimace. Even her lips hurt.

“Try and relax your face, angel.”

“It’s hard. I’m so happy to be with you. Is that twisted?”

“A little,” he grins, “but that’s part of your charm. You’re a twisted woman.”

She frowns remembering what Gavin had said, she really is a twisted woman.

“Hey, what he said to you wasn’t true. All four of us are guilty of pretending with each other and lying to everyone else.”

“So, you don’t have feelings for Lucinda?”

“I respect her business, she’s great at branding and marketing. She’s a friend, and she asks about you.”

“She knows about me?”

“It’s no surprise they both caught on eventually,” he smiles, “we’ve been doing this for a long time, angel, and always in the first week of May.”

She touches her cheek carefully; her head hurts from all the thoughts coursing through it and from the throbbing pain in her cheek. She’ll call Gavin later to make sure he’s all right and to let him know she’s okay. Maybe the four of them could come up with a plan where they could all be happy.

“Ashton?”

“Hm? Are you hungry? I told Louisa to have breakfast delivered by ten. I figured you’d sleep later.”

“No, I’m not—” she stares at him.

Memories of their past push away the dark parts that have occurred. This situation isn’t fair to any of them. Even this, her staying with him now might be a mistake, it’s all broken in so many ways. Ashton always puts her back together again, much like last night. They’re in a constant minefield waiting for a bomb to go off. Last night was explosive but it wasn’t the nuclear bomb ticking away like the time they share.

She’d walk through a hundred minefields to be close to him.

“Kiss me, please?” her request is so soft he barely hears her.

“What I risk to be close to you,” he sighs with a teasing grin before pressing his lips ever so carefully on hers in a tender kiss, and she smiles in contentment. She doesn’t know how long they have, but any amount of time is worth it. Ashton is worth it.

“I still belong with you.”

Taglist: @calpalirwin​​ @myloverboyash​​ @loveroflrh​​ @cxddlyash​​ @princesslrh​​ @spicylftv​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @calumance​​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​​ @sarcastically-defensive17​​ @another-lonely-heart​​ @devilatmydoor​​ @thatscooibaby​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​ @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​​ @littledrummeraussie​​ @sexgodashton​​ @f-mu​​ @mystic-232

#lias #lovers in a song fic #ashton irwin au #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton angst #ashton 5sos writing #ashton 5sos #ashton 5sos fic #5sos fic

[anxiouslyfred]

Ear Defenders

Summary: Since his parents kicked him out Remus has feared being rejected by his soulmate, despite anything Roman or his soulmate can say. After all, what else could follow words like "Dudes, if you were any louder I'd be putting my ear defenders on just to get past.” 

AN: I don’t think there’s any warnings needed beyond food mentions, but let me know and I’ll try to remember.

Ships: Dukexiety, background Roceit

/\/\/\/\

Remus had faced rejection all his life. His fascination with injuries was morbid and obsession with butts disgusting; He'd heard it all. Sometimes people would claim it was to do with personal hygiene or the insane attention seeking he did, but Remus was never seeking attention, just doing the things he thought would bring joy in the moment.

For years it was fine that people left him behind. He could make new friends and would someday meet his soulmate who put the words on his wrist from their first future meeting. The universe had promised him he wouldn't see everyone leave. Even Roman believed in that, no matter how much they argued about his inability to quietly fit in at school.

Then their parents kicked him out the day he turned twenty with parting words harsh enough to shake his faith to the core. “You're so immature we doubt even your soulmate will stick around beyond your first words.” The yelling and arguments Roman came out with then and would lecture about anytime the day came up ever after couldn't stop his fear of being rejected forming, but at least it sustained the confidence to be himself that Remus had always carried and for a month tried to ignore and suppress.

With each friend he lost and co-worker who ignored him, Remus's fear grew, after all if these people who didn't have such a lifetime connection didn't give him a chance for 5 minutes why would someone whose first words would be complaining about the noise do so?

Roman did stick around, insisting on it and joining in with some of Remus's ideas. Occasionally he, or his soulmate when they met, would try to tame them enough to be safer but it felt like an empty comfort to have peace with the brother he used to war with. Despite all of Roman's and Janus's attempts they couldn't return the faith lost about his soulmates abandonment. No fairy-tales or classic novels could help someone so isolated from the world he only had two people to talk to most of the time.

/\/\

It was on one of the days that Remus had been dragged away from his work and his rubbish that he found hope again. The litter picker had been locked away by Janus while Roman distracted him so he couldn't start working while they were out. He was still wondering about changing jobs and just keeping the rubbish collection as a hobby; Surely he could be loud on a building site.

The thought was pushed aside by Roman starting to sing Beauty and the Beast. Of course Remus had to improve the lyrics then, nobody needed to hear something so saccharine as that.

“Dudes, if you were any louder I'd be putting my ear defenders on just to get past.” The words cut through everything, freezing Remus in place as he registered the building site next to where they were passing and a guy leaving it watching them. The biggest realisation though was that he'd just heard the words from his wrist spoken aloud and the person's expression wasn't happy.

He was on the verge of tears before he could remember how to speak again. “Please stay long enough to talk. I can be quiet I swear. I think you're my soul.”

Peripherally he could see Janus stopping Roman from speaking, but all his fears rested on the face of alarm and concern now directed at him. “I've got an hours lunch break, but if you give me your number we could carry on texting after that and meet up later?” The words seemed carefully chosen, possibly rehearsed, but they were enough to make Remus want to leap up the walls. “And you don't need to be quiet, Dude. Noise is pretty good generally.”

“Really? But only – Nobody – Everyone -” There was so many things Remus wanted to say all at once but he couldn't get any of them out, tears beginning to fall in the sudden rush of hope.

A tissue being shoved into his hand reminded him of his brothers presence. “I think what Remus is trying to say is aside from Janus and I most people do leave him so thank you for giving him the chance.” Roman attempted to interpret, not entirely successful but close enough.

“We don't need a chaperone, thanks. I deal with my own anxiety enough to be patient with someone else's.” Remus's soulmate snarked back, now holding a hand towards him. “And something to eat generally helps after a whirlwind of emotions, if you'd like yo join me?”

Of course Remus took the hand, overjoyed to be led away. “I'm Remus, He/him. Who are you, My Soul?”

“Virgil, he/him, and do you need some breathing exercises? You've been like swapping from not breathing to hyperventilating since I spoke.” The offer and raised eyebrow glance assessing him made Remus realise just how fast he was breathing.

“Please.” He'd been pulled into a sandwich shop now but Virgil ignored the guy hurrying behind the counter to sit Remus down and help him.

It took a few minutes before his breathing calmed and the bouncing from excitement began. “Can I buy you lunch, Virgie?” He offered, glancing for a way to stay with his soulmate as long as he could.

Being answered with a head-shake dampened his hopes to be helpful though, until Virgil spoke, “Only if you can promise me this isn't part of you trying to behave so I'll stay. Whomever Remus is beyond your fears is who I want to know and I'm happy to wait and reassure until you're comfortable to show him to me. I'm staying; no need to try and earn that.”

Remus gasped at the sincerity and comfort being so freely offered, before actually pausing to think. “I was gonna buy my bro and Janjan lunch today anyway. Lot more fun to buy my soul his even if I can't sabotage it.”

“Then I'll have a hot chocolate with a ham and cheese baguette.” Virgil relaxed back into his seat, finally letting go of Remus's hands though he couldn't say when they'd been taken. Remus had to grin at the snickers he got from walking backwards to the counter.

Virgil was still snickering when he came back with their drinks and this time nothing slightly odd had been done consciously to cause it. “I've not got froth on my nose yet. What's so funny?”

“Re, what on earth did you order to make Sunglasses look so horrified?”

“I wanted as many espresso shots as possible so I can fight the universe and 2 of the most sugary, e-number filled thing they sell so we can get sugar rushes too!” Remus nodded, certain it made sense as he swapped the way the drinks were placed down 9 times before deciding he'd got it right.

Virgil watched the move with a still amused smirk before shrugging. “I'm the first aider for my site so I can patch you up afterwards.” He said, sending electric shocks of relief flinging themselves through Remus. “But other than fighting galactic entities and shocking servers what do you do?”

Most people on the Cities Cleansing team would insist on using their actual job title, saying it sounded more professional, others just stayed down to earth and called a spade a spade; then there was Remus is his own league, “I steal people's rubbish and make treasures out of it all, sometimes hidden safely at the dump!”

“Sounds like you're more than equipped to fight gods then. How would you describe being a builder?” Remus had expected disgust or dismissal but was met with a small smile and curiosity. He had to tap his knee harder to get the happy energy out somehow.

“Committing atrocities against natural habitats or giving purpose to the city areas people look away from. Depends if you work on inner city used sites or areas out taking over farmland.”

Even Janus disliked his descriptions of the jobs people claimed as vital, but Virgil just snorted, nodding along. “Too right. The rich man says build here and people just wanting to survive the month have to follow. I do try to avoid the areas building on new land when I can at least.” Virgil broke off, looking around as though wanting something else to say, before frowning. “No fighting the capitalist regime alone though. One person is too easy for companies to disappear. Best to talk people into unions and protests instead.”

Remus couldn't help but cackle at the remark. After all the years of rejection it was impossible to believe Virgil was real, actually feeding into his ideas and encouraging him. “You're really not going to leave me? I can have your number?” The thought spilt out as soon as he thought over how happy this hour was for him.

“If you give me your phone I can add my number to it now and you already know where I work for the next months if you just want to appear randomly.” Virgil offered, extending his hand across the table. “We could do lunch dates as long as you're okay just sitting by the fountain since I usually bring a packed lunch. I just wasn't awake enough to make it this morning.”

The hour disappeared from them far too quickly, with Remus cackling through it almost more than speaking. Even as they walked back to Virgil's building site they were talking and getting to know each other, only just spotting Roman and Janus approaching from the opposite direction.

Remus ignored them through their farewells and after, standing watching the entrance shut before opening his phone to just stare are the new contact added. “He's staying.” Remus wasn't one for reverence but his voice in that moment was filled with it.

“He's your soulmate.” Roman stated, smiling. There was a relief in Roman's voice that for years Remus would call out given how certain his brother had acted that soulmates don't leave.

“He doesn't even care about the taste combinations I love! Or even my ideas and ways of describing everything!” He threw himself between Janus and Roman, grabbing their hands and recounting absolutely every detail of Virgil from the last hour. At least they'd stop him from breaking in anywhere.

The hand holding didn't last long when he heard a text alert.

'Got tickets to a friends concert on Friday. You coming?'

The world could leave Remus behind but with his soulmate inviting him on a date that was fine with him.

#dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #soulmate au #hurt/ comfort #roman sanders #Janus Sanders #roceit

[ruzek-halstead]

the one that (almost) got away

"my friend dragged me to this party and i just saw my ex - quick, make out with me"

university au

masterlist || ao3

x

It was a month before finals and Julie's to-do list was piling up. Her music courses were slowly starting to drive her insane (best program in the country my ass) and she had absolutely zero time to even breathe, much less be dragged to a party by her roommate.

The past few months had been filled with lectures, compositions, performances and impromptu Netflix binging sessions. She was already stressed enough with everything happening academically, it didn't help that she found her boyfriend of two years on a romantic dinner with another woman (I mean, his tongue was down her throat, what would you make of that?). It hurt like hell, don't get her wrong, but having him out of her life didn't bother her as much as it probably should have. Luckily, she kept herself distracted with classes, extra-curricular activities and her best friend and roommate, Flynn.

"You're going," Flynn stated with the utmost serious expression. She busied herself with rummaging through her closet to find the perfect outfit for tonight's frat party, while Julie focused on the lyrics splayed out in front of her for composition class. "You've been so focused on school that you haven't had any time to enjoy the night life."

Julie rolled her eyes without sparing a glance at her best friend. "Yes, because I'm in university because of the night life," she sassed, "it has absolutely nothing to do with excelling in the most prestigious music program in the country so I can become famous and fly you places in my private jet."

"Details," Flynn muttered, waving her hand in her direction. "Alex's frat is throwing the party, so it won't be overly crazy."

Flynn and Julie made eye contact and Flynn cringed at the unimpressed look on Julie's face.

"Okay, so maybe I can't control that," she admitted. "But still, Alex says you have to come! You can finally meet some of his friends!"

Julie snorted. "I know his friends. I don't like his friends."

"You know Luke," Flynn countered, "you haven't met Reggie or Alex's boyfriend, Willie! And Luke isn't that bad, I promise; he's super sweet."

"Sweet?" Julie spit, eyes widening in annoyance. "He pushed me into the pool at that last party!"

Flynn cringed, yet again. "Okay, yes," she relented. "But it was more like 'he knocked you' into the pool because he was trying to catch the football. And he did!"

"Excuse me for not caring!"

"Just trust me, okay?" Flynn busted out her puppy dog eyes as she jumped on Julie's bed. "They're great, and we can't discuss this anymore. You need a break and you're going. I don't care if you leave twenty-minutes after you get there; you are making an appearance."

Julie and Flynn engaged in a brief stare down, to which Flynn ended by pushing against Julie's shoulder.

"Fine," Julie reluctantly agreed, "I'll make a brief appearance, and I'll meet Alex's friends. But as soon as Luke says something stupid, I'm leaving. Is that clear?"

Flynn's face broke into an excited grin. "Crystal clear, girl!" She squealed. "Oh my god, put your lyrics away. We have to start getting ready right now!"

x

Julie entered the frat party with a newfound attitude and a clear mind. Flynn forced her to take two tequila shots before leaving their apartment, so she could forget about her studies, and so far, it was working. She also didn't want to be the only buzzkill at this party, so she promised herself and Flynn that she would actually try to have some fun.

"There you go, there's that smile!" Flynn cheered, nudging Julie in the direction of the drinks. Together they mixed a creative concoction and set out to find Flynn's good friend, Alex.

They found him relatively quickly; he was dominating at the beer pong table. When he saw  Flynn and Julie, his face lit up and he tapped a random guy next to him, shouting, "sub in for me, my bestie's here!"

With that, he ran over to Flynn to give her a bone-crushing hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek (he was definitely more than two shots and a cocktail in). "Hey Jules!" He greeted the brunette, wrapping her under his other arm. "Ah, my girls are here. I have to find the guys!"

"Julie's going to love them!" Flynn added, following as Alex pulled them along. He pulled them until they stepped into the backyard where the party was just as lively as inside. "Look, there's Reggie!"

Alex dragged them over to two guys who seemed to be in a heated conversation.

"I can't believe you don't like The Office!" The one with a red flannel shirt tied around his waist exclaimed, throwing his arms up for emphasis. "Michael Scott is the single greatest character ever created."

The other one with his hair tied up in a bun rolled his eyes. "If that's what you think, then you need more help than I can offer."

"Whatever," Red Flannel replied, turning his attention to the newcomers. "Flynn, you're here!" He exclaimed, reaching over to give her a hug. "I'm Reggie!" He told Julie excitedly.

Julie sent him a polite smile. "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Julie."

"And this," Alex yelled drunkenly, wrapping his arms around the other brunette, "is Willie! He's my boyfriend!"

Willie let out a laugh. "He is so wasted. Nice to meet you, Julie."

Julie sent him a warm smile in response.

Alex turned his attention to Julie. "Julie," he slurred, wrapping an arm around her shoulders again, "is Flynn's best friend and roommate. I've been trying to get her to meet you guys for ages. Wait, where's Luke?"

Julie's shoulders stiffened.

Reggie shrugged. "Who knows."

"I'll go find him," Alex muttered. "Go get another drink, mingle, but you're not allowed to leave until you meet Luke!" He yelled to her as he walked backwards across the room (he was definitely going to trip). "No leaving!"

"Is he forgetting I've already met Luke?" Julie whispered to Flynn, who just shrugged.

Willie hesitantly started after him, turning to say, "I should probably make sure he doesn't do something really stupid."

"And I'm going to go mingle," Julie replied, turning to Flynn who look thoroughly unconvinced.

Flynn pursed her lips. "You better not leave."

"I won't," Julie laughed, "I promise."

With that, they all went their separate ways. Julie stayed outside and watched the beer pong championship for a while, but eventually decided to go back inside because the chill was getting to her. She was also hoping to find Flynn because her 'mingling' was getting boring and she was inching to leave.

She walked back into the building, intent on getting herself a new drink to pass the time. She was about to turn into the kitchen, when she spotted a very familiar face that she hadn't seen in a number of months.

Her ex-boyfriend, Ryan.

And the girl he cheated on her with.

"Oh my god," she muttered, ducking out of the way. She made eye contact solely for a solid millisecond but she knew he saw her. "Fuck."

In her attempt to escape and leave the house party (and the university, if she's being honest), she ran smack into a hard body. "Shit," she heard a deep voice. "Are you okay?"

His hands were wrapped around her upper forearms and she looked up to realize they belonged to her one and only nemesis, Luke Patterson.

"Oh, it's you! Pool girl!"

In any other circumstance, she would probably wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze but she was genuinely too panicked.

"Julie?"

Oh god, Ryan was calling out for her.

"You pushed me into a pool months ago, right?"

Luke's eyebrows narrowed. "Okay, well, it was a little more complicated than that..."

"But you owe me!"

"Uh — sure?"

He looked genuinely confused and regardless of how smart Julie considered herself to be, she was incredibly dumb when it came to men and social situations.

Which is why she uttered, "I'm so sorry, but my ex —" before crashing her lips against his. He seemed to freeze, his hands loosening their grip on her forearms.

Julie quickly doubled back, realizing how stupid of an idea it was. It was Luke, and even though she wasn't particularly a fan of him, she had basically just mauled him without even asking for consent.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," Julie apologized quickly. He was staring at her as if she had three heads. "I'm so sorry. I just saw my ex-boyfriend with the girl he cheated on me with and he was calling my name and I figured, 'oh, why not just make out with someone so he doesn't think I'm a complete —'"

This time, Luke interrupted her with a wicked smirk. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She squeaked in response, but was distracted when he tipped her head back and kissed her. It was soft at first, but he pressed harder against her mouth with an intensity that momentarily took Julie's breath away. His body pressed further against hers, until they rested on the wall behind her.

A moment later, he pulled back and admired her shocked expression.

"How was that?"

His voice was soft and warm and Julie was so stunned, it took her a moment to reply.

But when she did, her recollection and sass came full force.

"Good enough, I guess," she lied through her teeth (it was fucking fantastic). "Your debt is paid, thank you. And stay away from the pool."

With that, she whirled around, dead set on walking away. She was so mind-blown from the kiss, she completely forgot Ryan was still behind her.

"Julie!"

"Shit."

She didn't realize she said it out loud until Ryan's eyebrows furrowed.

"Babe! Wait for me!" The obnoxious voice of Luke Patterson rang through her ears before she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders and hang off her neck. "I'm Luke, Julie's boyfriend. Who are you?"

Julie cringed. She wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Right now.

"I'm Ryan," he answered apprehensively; his new girlfriend was nowhere to be found. "Nice to meet you."

"Is it, though?" Luke replied and Julie's eyes widened. She whipped her head to glare at him, but he was too focused on Ryan. He was wearing a playful smirk but the look in his eyes was everything but playful. "You're the one who cheated on my girl, isn't that right?"

Ryan's face went pale. "I should probably go... Nice to see you, Julie."

"Yeah, you probably should go! Wouldn't want my fist accidentally connecting with your nose!"

Julie's eyes widened and she angrily pushed Luke away from her. "Oh my god, what is wrong with you?"

"I was defending you," he explained like it was obvious, "you're welcome, by the way. Or maybe I should be thanking you," he winked.

Julie never wanted to die as much as she did in that moment.

"Oh my god," she muttered, utterly mortified. "Do you even hear yourself?"

Luke smiled cheekily. "Yeah, I do. And that was," he made the chef's kiss motion. He actually made the chef's kiss motion; Julie wanted to throw up. "Do you think we could continue that? Maybe go out to dinner or something?"

Julie blinked.

"This may shock you, but not everyone here likes you," she replied after a moment. God, this whole situation was getting so far away from her.

Luke smirked. "Sounds ridiculous, but go on."

"You pushed me into a pool, I don't need to like you! And I appreciate you helping me out with my ex, but that was all! This ends here!"

Luke's eyes softened, but there was still a wild gleam in them.

"No."

"No?" Julie spluttered. "What do you mean no?"

Luke shrugged. "You can deny it all you want, but our kiss was definitely something. And I may have my moments, but I'm not dumb enough to let something like that go."

Julie found herself stunned once again.

"What the hell is going on right now?"

"And yeah, I probably could be more charming," he admitted. "And I really am sorry about the pool thing. That wasn't supposed to happen like that!"

Julie looked around for Flynn or Alex or literally everyone who could save her.

"So, what do you say? Dinner on Friday?"

Julie barked out a laugh, but she had to admit, he looked adorably optimistic. She took a moment to admire his appearance and obviously he was ridiculously attractive but — she really had no reason to object.

"Are you out of your mind? I hardly know you!"

"That's the point of a date, Julie. Keep up," he teased, his hazel eyes sparkling.

Julie was genuinely starting to feel faint. This was too much action for one day.

"Slow your roll, Casanova."

Luke's eyebrows rose in amusement. "Want me to slow it down? Even though you just had your tongue down my throat?" Julie squeaked in indignation and Luke chuckled. "Shit, I'm really bad at this whole charming thing apparently. Can I start by getting your number?"

"I honestly don't understand what's happening right now. So, I'll give you my number, but you have to work your ass off for that date."

Luke nodded, biting his lip to hold back a smile. "Yeah, that sounds fair.”

“Oh, look!” Both of their head swivelled around to see Alex, stumbling drunkenly in their direction with Flynn by his side. “Julie met Luke!”

“Dude, they’ve already met. How drunk are you?”

“Wait, why does Luke have lipstick all over his face?”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp fic #jatp au #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #juke #juke au #juke fic #juke fanfic #juke fanfiction #julie x luke #luke x julie #palina #molina x patterson #julie molina #luke patterson #alex jatp #jatp alex #reggie jatp #jatp reggie #flynn jatp #jatp flynn #willie jatp #jatp willie #willex #willex au #fics

[somanysigns-13]

Part 3: Snuggle in and buckle up for a long read. 😬

Reputation 2017 - her final required album with BMR (2014-2017 3 years after 1989)

…Ready For It? (also see cowboy like me on evermore)

* Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him wonder how many girls he had loved and left haunted...Knew the beard (maybe Joe?) was gay; wondered how many girls he had to pretend with?

* But if he’s a ghost then I can be a phantom holdin him for ransom...She can use him to cover her relationship with Karlie (also see New Romantics)

* Some boys are tryin too hard he don’t try at all though younger than my exes but he act like such a man so I see nothing better keep him forever like a vendetta...Some of her beards actually tried to make the relationship legit but he doesn’t try at all, maybe because he is also gay, so she can see staying with him until it’s over

* In the middle of the night, in my dreams you should see the things we do. In the middle of the night in my dreams I know I’m gonna be with you, so I’ll take my time...She knows in the end she will be with Karlie so she’s just going to ride this out

* Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me stealing hearts and runnin off and never saying sorry but if I’m a thief then he can join the heist and we’ll move to an island.... Possible reference to Karlie’s bearding with Josh and him knowing they are together and being part of the whole plan?

* He can be my jailer Burton to this Taylor...Nod to Elizabeth Taylor and her relationship with Richard Burton * Karlie’s middle name is Elizabeth * Burton to this Taylor - Josh will marry Karlie to quiet the rumors of her and Karlie’s relationship therefore he is Taylor’s “jailer” keeping the “cage” in place. Back to that recurring theme..cages..(see so it goes, this is me trying, and cowboy like me)

* Baby let the games begin...Here we go...start of the end game by playing more games

End Game

* I wanna be your endgame I wanna be your first string I wanna be your A-Team... She wants to be able to be public with Karlie and not the “secret”

Could the End Game be them getting through the final years of the BMR contract and possible other contracts (Karlie with Scooter and Josh). Did Taylor possibly sign a 3 album obligation to UMG which is why she busted out 3 albums in 1 year (Lover/folklore/evermore) to make “End Game” “New Year’s Day” 2021? There seems to be a countdown between the years of album releases...1989-reputation (3) rep-lover (2) and lover-folklore/evermore (1)

* Big reputation, big reputation ooh you and me would be a big conversation... If they came out now everyone would really be talking about it even though there are currently rumors

What kind of big conversation would really come of her and Joe Alwyn? Why would being in a heterosexual relationship need to be kept such a secret? What’s so taboo about it? And why would it need to be a secret when the public narrative is that you are in a relationship with him already?

* I hit you like bang we tried to forget it but we just couldn’t...Karlie and Taylor’s chemistry is too much to disregard or act like it was just a temporary thing, they are each other’s lobsters and they couldn’t quit each other.

* And I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put them... She’s going to go along with the plan but she won’t forget who made her have to do it

* And I can’t let you go your handprints on my soul It’s like your eyes are liquor like your body is gold...again Karlie’s astrological sign is Leo and the Leo color is Gold…she’s love drunk on her eyes and she’s left a mark on her forever (see This Love and Dress)

* You’ve been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks so here’s the truth from my red lips...Taylor tries to push Karlie away or talk herself out of her feelings but Karlie calls her on her bullshit

I Did Something Bad

* I never trust a playboy but they love me so I fly ‘em all around the world and I let them think they saved me...Playboy as in boy she uses as her beard (play things for her to use- Don’t Blame Me) they think they can be the one to change/save Taylor (make her straight?) or possibly that by them going along with the plan she owes them something more since they “save” her reputation/career, she pays for all their expenses as her beard

* They never see it comin’ what I do next ...New Romantics; poker ref...she fills them in on the situation?

* This is how the world works you gotta leave before you get left...Foreshadowing her leaving BMR so she doesn’t lose Karlie?

* If he drops my name then I owe him nothin’ and if he spends my change then he had it comin... Did a beard say something he wasn’t supposed to in an interview that went against the NDA contract... Was he taking advantage of Taylor and her money?

* They’re burning all the witches even if you aren’t one they got their pitchforks and proof their receipts and reasons... “Witches” historically were thought to be lesbians (see Salem witch trials - see Willow) Even if you aren’t one - Some of the rumors of her being with her friends other than Karlie (Martha Hunt)...The proof is obviously in the rumors of her and Karlie and possibly Kissgate..and lots of witch references in evermore

* So light me up go ahead and light me up...Acknowledging she’s gay?

Don’t Blame Me

* Don’t blame me, love made me crazy if it doesn’t you ain’t doin’ it right lord save me my drug is my baby I’ll be using for the rest of my life... Don’t blame her for all the crazy things she’s had to do to keep her relationship with Karlie Lord save me - “pray the gay away” type ref

* I’ve been breaking hearts a long time and toying with them older guys just playthings for me to use (see “I Did Something Bad”)...Boys = beards

* For you, I would cross the line I would waste my time I would lose my mind they say she’s gone to far this time... She would give it all up to be with Karlie (see lyrics of evermore)

* My name is whatever you decide and I’m just gonna call you mine I’m insane, but I’m your baby...Reference to Karlie writing her name in the sand wrong or maybe using “James” or another pseudonym like maybe Kayda?

* Echoes of your name inside my mind halo, hiding my obsession I once was poison ivy but now I’m your daisy...

Alleration of Karlie’s name? (Echoes of your name) Halo = Victoria’s Secret Angel.. Poison ivy (see Ivy) Daisy - all the pictures of them with daisies during the Big Sur trip and other

* And baby for you I would fall from grace just to touch your face if you walk away I’d beg you on my knees to stay... She would give it all up and come out if she could ....If Karlie wanted to leave (Victoria secret fashion show “walk away” ref) she would do whatever she had to do to make her stay

Delicate - there’s more lyrics here but you’ll get the point with just a few

* Is it cool that Taylor told Karlie how she felt? She knows their relationship/situation they’re in is delicate

* Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs stay here honey I don’t want to share...She hates that Karlie has to leave and pretend to be with Josh, she gets jealous

* I pretend you’re mine all the damn time...She hates the bearding

So It Goes - all Victoria Secret fashion show refs

* See you in the dark all eyes on you my magician all eyes on us you make everyone disappear ...From Taylor’s perspective - Victoria secret fashion show interactions - usually all eyes are on Taylor but not now, it’s all eyes on her and Karlie and Taylor see’s only her and her “shiny abs” when they’re out there together on the stage

* Cut me into pieces gold cage hostage to my feelings back against the wall trippin when you’re gone...it kills Taylor to have to hold her love for Karlie inside and not share it with the world as much as she hates when Karlie has to leave after their time spent together

* Cause we break down a little but when you get me alone it’s so simple cause baby I know what you know we can feel it... When they have to be apart it’s hard but when they’re together it’s all worth it...They both know what they have and what they have to do to keep it

* And all the pieces fall right into place getting caught up in the moment lipstick on your face so it goes...Everything so far is going to plan but sometimes they forget and have to deal with a revelation (lipstick on Karlie’s face as they walk out of the apartment and get papped)

* I’m yours to keep and I’m yours to lose you know I’m not a bad girl but I do bad things with you so it goes...Seems like Taylor is saying the ball’s in Karlie’s court so to speak? The bad things = lesbian things 😂

* Met you in a bar all eyes on me your illusionist all eyes on us I make all your grey days clear and wear you like a necklace I’m so chill but you make me jealous but I got your heart skipping when I’m gone... From Karlie’s perspective - usually everyone is looking at Taylor but not at the VS Fashion show. She’s the sunshine in Taylor’s life but she does get jealous sometimes...But she knows she has Taylor’s heart and that Taylor misses her when she’s gone

* Come here dressed in black now scratches down your back now so it goes...Victoria’s Secret fashion show when they’re in black dresses holding hands walking down the runway and likely what happened after the show 😉

* You did a number on me but honestly baby who’s counting I did a number on you but honestly baby who’s counting 1, 2, 3...They really can’t help themselves with each other and their feelings * 3 years has gone by (2014-2017) (see invisible string - bold was the waitress on our 3 year trip. * 3 album contract with UMG?

Gorgeous - the rest of the lyrics speak for themselves I think, so here’s a couple.

* You make me so happy it turns back to sad ...When they’re together vs when they’re apart (Karlie w/Josh)

* There’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have Due to the management teams keeping them apart?

Getaway Car

King of My Heart - Karlie is a Leo (Lion - king of the jungle)

* Salute to me, I’m your American Queen - Karlie referred to Taylor as the Princess because she has blue eyes, red lips, is beautiful and wears a crown in the Best Best Friend Vogue video

* Cause all the boys and their expensive cars, with their range rovers and their Jaguars never took me quite where you do...She feels nothing with any of her expensive beards like she does with Karlie

* Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep... They have to sneak around to avoid being seen together in intimate situations

* Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury... She’s making all the effort to make the relationship work. I’m sure some guys have tasty lips but typically the ladies win that one

* Is the end of all the endings? End Game

* My broken bones are mending She uses breaking bones metaphors often (sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me refs?)

* Up on the roof with a school girl crush

* She’s got a girl crush

* Drinking beer out of plastic cups

* Karlie and Taylor at the Knicks game

* Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

* Taylor wants to know that Karlie wants her for her, not what she has

Dancing With Our Hands Tied - a lot to unpack here so I’ll try to do it briefly

* I, I loved you in secret First sight, yeah, we love without reason...Depending on when they first met, Taylor saw Karlie either irl or modeling or through mutual friends and had a crush instantly

* Deep blue, but you painted me golden

* Karlie is Leo...astrologically represented by 1 color...Gold

* I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us...If they came out what would it do to their relationship and their careers?

* So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?... Is it possible to do it? Maybe not now, but can they weather the storm until they can make it public?

* I'd kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down Possible Kissgate ref?

* I'd hold you as the water rushes in...They’re both fire signs...a water sign beard (Joe is a Pisces) could be the extinguisher to squash the rumors of Kaylor

* If I could dance with you again...She’ll do what she needs to do to keep this relationship

Dress - another big one

* Our secret moments in your crowded room They've got no idea about me and you...Victoria Secret fashion show moments

* There is an indentation in the shape of you Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo Again with gold and the tattoo...permanent mark (see End Game)

* Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend...Not really sure if it could be any more obvious..Karlie and Taylor were each other’s “Best Friend” and Taylor is letting it be known that she wants her more than that

* Only bought this dress so you could take it off Take it off (ha, ha, ha) Carve your name into my bedpost 'Cause I don't want you like a best friend...She wants to “do bad things” with Karlie (see “so it goes”)

Call It What You Want

* Possible start of the bearding ref?

* Sounds an awful like “So Karlie would you want to?”

* Windows boarded up after the storm ...They have to be apart, possible arguments over what the plan should be? Also see Death by a thousand cuts on Lover

New Year’s Day=End Game?

* Last song with BMR..Taylor’s contract is over

* Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor...Candles are a recurring prop in her music videos, assumed to represent the passing of time of their respective contract periods * Polaroids - Karlie was asked in an interview what she collects, she said Polaroids...They took lots of Polaroid pictures on their trip to Big Sur * Taylor used the image of a Polaroid as her album cover in 1989

*You and me forevermore...direct link to the evermore album and song...she said in the MAATHP documentary that her life is planned out at least 2 years in advance...looks like maybe some of the folklore/evermore songs were already in the works or at the very least she went back and drew inspiration from other albums.

* You squeezed my hand three times in the back of the taxi

* could 3 years be the length of Karlie’s contract with Josh? (See So It Goes)

* 3 album contract with UMG?

* I can tell it’s gonna be a long road They’re going to have to suffer through at least 3 years of not being seen together in order to avoid speculation

* I’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home Whatever Karlie’s reason is for going along with the Josh stunts, Taylor will be there to support her no matter what...Strike out is a baseball metaphor and Karlie is a big St Louis Cardinals fan (baseball ref also used in peace on folklore...”swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches”)

Crawling home…opposite of what Karlie used to do as a Victoria Secret model and “walking” the runway

* Don’t read the last page But I stay When it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes... Try not to look too far ahead, things can go wrong and it can make the time longer or seem longer

* I want your midnights But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day Taylor wants to be with her now, but she knows in the end she’ll be with her forever after the charade and games are over.

* Hold on to the memories they will hold on to you Just keep remembering the good times..they’ll get “us” through until the games are over

#taylor swift #kaylor #karlie kloss #gaylor swift #part 3 #reputation #lyric analysis

[whatiwillsay]

submission:

Reputation is about more than one relationship; a thesis by anon

Hello! I am that anon who thinks Rep is about more than one relationship and this is a hill I am very much willing to die on. I believe there are (at least) two relationship stories told in detail on this album.

One is the relationship between two very famous women (*cough*Kaylor*cough), who are struggling to make it work because of the public pressures. The other is between Taylor and someone who is out of the public eye, or at least someone she is able to keep the relationship completely private. I’m not going to speculate on whether that’s Lily or Joe (lol so full disclosure I don’t think it’s Joe but someone else might) or maybe someone else we don’t know much about. All I know is that there is more than one relationship being discussed. Let’s dive into this analysis, shall we?

The first explicit mention of the public relationship - let’s actually just refer to it as Kaylor from here on out - is on End Game.

Big reputation, big reputation Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations Ah, and you heard about me Ooh, I got some big enemies (yeah) Big reputation, big reputation Ooh, you and me would be a big conversation Ah, and I heard about you (yeah) Ooh, you like the bad ones, too

Tay’s lover on here is someone with a big reputation, and being with the person would be a big conversation. Endless Kaylor analyses have discussed this as ‘proof’ that it’s not about Joe. Which, yes, obviously. But equally obviously, any woman in a relationship with Tay would be a big conversation so once we exclude Joe as a possibility, as we rightfully should, we wind up with plenty of other options.

Later in the song we do hear more explicit Karlie lines like “it’s like your body is gold”. We all suspect Karlie is gold (I tend to agree), so let’s call it a Kaylor anthem. Cool. Then, what can we learn about their relationship from this song?

I don’t wanna touch you, I don’t wanna be Just another ex that you don’t wanna see I don’t wanna miss you (I don’t wanna miss you) Like the other girls do I don’t wanna hurt you, I just wanna be Drinking on a beach with you all over me I know what they all say (I know what they all say) But I ain’t tryna play I wanna be your end game (End game) I wanna be your first string (First string) I wanna be your A-Team (A-Team) I wanna be your end game, end game

The lyrics explicitly suggest Tay’s begging the lover to make it work. It’s “I wanna be” not “I am”. She’s craving affirmation, she’s wanting to be chosen; we can pick that up from the repetitive nature of the song. First string, A-team, end game… She just wants for her to be the one. Some might say that would be fun. She’d love for them to wind up together - but there is no clear sign in the lyrics that it’s an actual possibility. It’s what she wants. She’s trying to convince her lover that she is committed, but they never resolve that commitment in the song. It’s never fully requited. No matter how many times she offers what she ‘wants’, there is no response.

Later, she sings:

I hit you like bang We tried to forget it, but we just couldn’t And I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put ‘em Reputation precedes me, they told you I’m crazy I swear I don’t love the drama, it loves me And I can’t let you go, your hand prints on my soul It’s like your eyes are liquor, it’s like your body is gold You’ve been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks So here’s the truth from my red lips I wanna be your end game (End game) I wanna be your first string (Me and you) I wanna be your A-Team (Be your A-Team now) I wanna be your end game, end game I wanna be your end game (oh, I do) I wanna be your first string (first string) I wanna be your A-Team (A-Team) I wanna be your end game, end game

I’ve referenced part of this above, because it’s where the Kaylor-ness of it all gets more explicit (drinking/liquor/intoxication, gold, handprints/footprints). But again, this isn’t a happy ‘in love’ song. It’s Taylor actively trying to convince Karlie that her feelings are real. “Here’s the truth” she says - that doesn’t sound romantic, it sounds like they’re fighting and wanting to make things work but it’s all proving to be incredibly challenging.

When we add Taylor’s tone of voice in - and the almost forlorn “I wanna be your end game” at the start - my reading makes a lot of sense. It’s definitely a Kaylor song; Kaylor songs are always steeped in anxiety.

Our next clear Kaylor song is ‘Don’t Blame Me’ which (importantly) Taylor didn’t write, but which clearly picks up on themes she finds relatable. Apparently it’s similar to Hozier’s Take Me To Church (I don’t know much about Hozier, but from a quick glance at those lyrics that’s not a wildly happy song either).

Something happened for the first time In the darkest little paradise. Shaking, pacing, I just need you. For you, I would cross the line, I would waste my time, I would lose my mind. They say, “She’s gone too far this time.” Don’t blame me. Love made me crazy. If it doesn’t, you ain’t doing it right. Lord, save me. My drug is my baby I’ll be using for the rest of my life.

We’re going back to that same theme from End Game - Tay is begging her lover to make it work. “For you” she says, “I” would do just about anything. Cross the line, waste time (a biggie when you’re Taylor fucking Swift), even lose her mind. Love has made her crazy, unstable - it’s almost a play on the satire of Blank Space. True love seems to have actually made her into that mad woman she laughed at on the previous album. She’s shaking and pacing, craving the physical release of her drug of choice. (The shaking and pacing in a darkened room comes up later on the album again, by the way - it’s clear that Tay is super into Karlie and I do get it, she’s so gorgeous it’s nuts).

Then comes this gayness:

My name is whatever you decide, And I’m just gonna call you mine.

I’m gonna pause here because these call me by your name vibes are just. So. Damn. Gay. But that’s neither here nor there. Tay continues:

I’m insane, but I’m your baby (your baby). Echoes (echoes) of your name inside my mind. Halo, hiding my obsession. I once was poison ivy, but now I’m your daisy. And, baby, for you, I would fall from grace Just to touch your face. If you walk away, I’d beg you on my knees to stay.

Again, we’re picking up those same recurrent themes: she’s asking her to stay, she is willing to risk it all for love. The daisy is a Kaylor inside joke, we all know about Big Sur, so I’m not going to dwell on that.

The name thing is more interesting, as is the ‘halo, hiding my obsession’. To me, both gesture towards the public nature of the relationship that first started in End Game and picks up steam in later songs. “My name is whatever you decide” she says, but the other woman’s name keeps echoing in her mind, possibly because of her lover’s big reputation? I don’t know for sure, but I think it’s fascinating. I think Tay’s got a thing about names - lol Betty and James but also later in this album; bear with me - so I think this whole name bit is of interest. I think Tay likes the idea of the symbolism of names and the concept often comes up in her lyrics…

Then we get the line which suggests one or both of them have a (public) halo, that they use to hide the desperate love Tay feels for her lover. To be honest, that screams glass closeting phase to me. We go straight from ‘hiding my obsession’ to the daisy references. “Glass closeting with me is fun!” cries Tay, “Please stay with me, please please please.”

But once again, there’s no answer.

And then we switch gears and go into Delicate. What we’ve established in the two songs above is Tay is very invested and wants to make it work, and that she’s dealing with someone who is also famous, and that there are complications. One of those complications is that she’s insecure in the relationship.

Delicate opens with:

This ain’t for the best My reputation’s never been worse, so You must like me for me…

It sets a different tone and attitude to the last two songs. For the first time, we’re hearing an analysis of her lover’s feelings. She’s not begging, she’s not urging. She’s shocked that this person wants her for her. The big reputations and the shaking, quaking and pining are suddenly gone.

We can’t make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink…

Here the lover is more involved than she was previously. Taylor has gone from asking for something to saying that this is what’s happening. This is chilled, low key. This isn’t an obsession. This isn’t her ‘hitting like bang’. It’s two people starting something very… delicate. It’s not love at first sight, it’s an exploration of possibilities. They’re going to a dive bar, they’re hanging out. It’s calm and peaceful. Her anxiety here is a gentle, delicate, romantic one. It’s not dramatic like on the Kaylor songs.

Come here, you can meet me in the back Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you

The theme of secrecy comes in strong on the lines above. They’re hiding, and they’re private. This is not “I would fall from grace just to touch your face” - the stakes are markedly lower. It’s the start of something new, something beautiful. She’s starting over again. And she’s doing so with someone who is willing to hide with her.

This is in sharp contrast to our Kaylor anthems, as we’ve already seen above. Ready for another Kaylor song? So It Goes (again, not by Tay but thematically linked) is peak Kaylor.

See you in the dark All eyes on you, my magician All eyes on us You make everyone disappear, and Cut me into pieces Gold cage, hostage to my feelings Back against the wall Trippin’, trip, trippin’ when you’re gone

Okay, here we have a gold cage imprisoning Tay and a ‘lightning strikes every time she moves’ woman stealing the attention of everyone who sees her. She’s got Tay backed up with nowhere to go and tripping when she’s gone. That’s the same insecurity from before.

'Cause we break down a little But when you get me alone, it’s so simple

She’s explicitly acknowledging their problems, but the problems fall away when they’re in bed or having a romantic interaction.

'Cause baby, I know what you know We can feel it… And all the pieces fall Right into place Getting caught up in a moment Lipstick on your face So it goes… I’m yours to keep And I’m yours to lose You know I’m not a bad girl, but I Do bad things with you So it goes…

The above doesn’t need much additional analysis, there are Kaylors who’ve done it and I recommend going to read those (or just looking up times Tay ended up with smudged lippy around Karlie).

Here’s the really relevant bit:

Met you in a bar All eyes on me, your illusionist All eyes on us I make all your grey days clear and Wear you like a necklace I’m so chill, but you make me jealous But I got your heart Skippin’, skip, skippin’ when I’m gone

Does that sound the same as the ‘dive bar on the East Side where you at?’ Because to me, while describing similar situations - dates in bars - they are explicitly different in mood, tone and atmosphere. In Delicate, Tay and her lover were hiding out in the back, having a heart to heart. Here, the bar has ‘all eyes’ on them. Kaylor both have big reputations and Karlie makes Tay anxious and jealous. She’s not ever sure where she stands with her. The best she can come up with (and you must listen for the high-pitched, uncertain tone with which this line is sung) is that Karlie’s heart skips when Tay’s gone. That’s hardly explicit confirmation of deep, requited feelings.

You did a number on me But, honestly, baby, who’s counting? I did a number on you But, honestly, baby, who’s counting? You did a number on me But, honestly, baby, who’s counting? Who’s counting? 1, 2, 3

This once again acknowledges the difficulties in the relationship. It is not ‘Delicate’. It is not always happy. It’s a proper fucking mess.

Cool now let’s take a look at another Kaylor anthem:

I, I loved you in secret First sight, yeah, we love without reason

I hear the naysayers point to the ‘in secret’ as paralleling Delicate (which so far has been the only one that’s not about Karlie). The thing, though, is that this is about love at first sight/physical attraction/lust - not about the meaningful emotional connection we glimpsed in Delicate. Delicate is explicitly not about love ar first sight or love without reason. It’s about embarking on something new and beautiful but having trepidation along the way. It’s about careful connection.

My, my love had been frozen Deep blue, but you painted me golden

I’m including this as further evidence this is about Kaylor. As I said Karlie = gold. We’ve heard this image in every Kaylor song. You know what didn’t feature in Delicate? Gold. Spoiler: it won’t feature in CIWYW and KOMH either.

I could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets Picture of your face in an invisible locket You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it I had a bad feeling And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis People started talking, putting us through our paces I knew there was no one in the world who could take it I had a bad feeling

In this verse we have people talking and noticing this couple. She’s describing a well-known, public relationship. It isn’t a secret, not really, despite the actual love being kept somewhat secret. Their locket may be invisible but despite that, this relationship is something well known. Furthermore, we already know she has had a bad feeling. That’s kind of the premise of many of her other Karlie anthems - she’s begging Karlie to stay and trying to convince her that they have something real and serious. She is constantly trying to convince Karlie of the seriousness of her feelings. And, well, the song ends with her saying she’d like to dance with Karlie again but there’s no real way forward, seeing as their hands are tied. The whole thing is quite sad.

Let’s look at the other very very Kaylor song (like there’s literally no other way to read it):

Our secret moments In a crowded room They got no idea About me and you There is an indentation In the shape of you Made your mark on me A golden tattoo All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you (ah, ah, ah) All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting My hands are shaking from all this (ha, ha, ha, ha)

We have the familiar desperation, the shaking, the gold, and the secret moments in plain view. And again, they’re both very famous:

Everyone thinks that they know us But they know nothing about All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation

We also get this bit:

Say my name and everything just stops I don’t want you like a best friend

There’s the name thing again and after that the gayest, most glass closety line I’ve ever witnessed. “I don’t want you like a best friend”, she says. I want your body. I want your love. I want us. I want this relationship to be real.

You know what that clarification is in sharp contrast to:

(Call it what you want, call it what you want, call it) So call it what you want, yeah Call it what you want to

Tay didn’t want to call it what you want with Karlie. She wanted to call it end game, first string, A team. She didn’t want to be friends. People talking about them caused her anxiety and lead to the breakup described in DWOHT. CIWYW has that renewed joyful tone that she had in Delicate. It’s hopeful and optimistic. It’s all about about connection and meaningful interactions:

I want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck Chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me

This is not an invisible locket, this is not about sex and getting clothes off in bathtubs, this is about a really deep emotional connection which we first heard on Delicate. Notably, it’s the third time she speaks of necklaces on the album, but it’s the first that it’s not sexual. It’s also - importantly - not invisible. It’s not comparing the lover to a necklace (like before, which makes it a physical connection) or saying their relationship can be entirely symbolized by one. She’s saying she’d actually love to actually have tangible physical proof of the relationship. She wouldn’t have said that about Karlie because she wasn’t expressly convinced the feelings were fully mutual. Also, this song is missing that desperate pining and longing that she experiences for Karlie in the Kaylor songs.

I know people hear “Karlie” instead of “Call It” but honestly it makes more sense as one of the non-Kaylor songs. I think maybe the rhyme is her trolling Karlie - call it what you want, which is certainly not what she had with Karlie. This would also kind of explain the laugh in Miss Americana. If someone sang me a song about how things are good between us, and added in a dig at her ex, I’d laugh too. And let’s be honest discussing exes - especially exes in the same social circle (Tay, Lily and Karlie) - is peak lesbian culture.

One more thing:

Cause… My baby’s fit like a daydream Walking with his head down I’m the one he’s walking to

Karlie has never had her head down. She is super active on socials, as a model, and as a philanthropist. Karlie has never been quietly walking “to” Tay. She’s been stunting and traveling and being extraordinarily visible. And all the Kaylor songs deal with that very public nature - with rumors and discussions and everyone’s eyes being on Karlie and the anxiety that causes Tay. I know some Kaylors think they just went underground after being caught making out but that’s just not what’s being described in CIWYW. It’s a different person.

My baby’s fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I’m brand new So call it what you want, yeah

She’s explicitly saying her baby doesn’t form part of “the scene” but rather floats above it. How does that fit Karlie going on vacation with Scooter? Or anything about Karlie, actually? This is obviously about someone very private or not particularly famous. Or both.

Bonus lyric from a non love song that points to an actively private relationship is “and here’s to my baby, he ain’t reading what they call me lately” - why would Karlie not read stuff? She is calling the paps on herself and Josh regularly but she’s not following Tay’s PR game? Make it make sense?

Anyhow back to CIWYW. In that song, her baby loves her - a source of anxiety that never gets stated explicitly resolved in the Kaylor songs. Those songs have her begging for love, not stating it’s existence matter of factly. The difference is palpable.

And I know I make the same mistakes every time Bridges burn, I never learn At least I did one thing right I did one thing right I’m laughing with my lover Making forts under covers Trust him like a brother Yeah, you know I did one thing right

I’m including this because of the chilled out atmosphere, the “brother” simile (which to me is kind of the opposite of “not wanting you like a best friend”) and the insistence that this is “right” which is absent in the Kaylor songs.

KOMH keeps with that same quiet, calm, positive energy.

I’m perfectly fine, I live on my own I made up my mind, I’m better off being alone We met a few weeks ago Now you try on calling me, baby, like trying on clothes Salute to me I’m your American Queen And you move to me like I’m a Motown beat And we rule the kingdom inside my room 'Cause all the boys and their expensive cars With their Range Rovers and their Jaguars Never took me quite where you do

“Try on calling me” like “trying on clothes” is that same idea from Delicate. Things are early, and uncertain. They’re exploring this and seeing where it goes.

This is not a public relationship, it’s entirely “inside her room”. And it doesn’t feature expensive cars and the visibility her - or Karlie’s - stunts had. (Kinda interesting that she drove Lily in the Toyota, don’t you think? And also drives her/someone in Miss Americana?)

This relationship is super secret:

Late in the night, the city’s asleep Your love is a secret I’m hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury

But what’s secret? Not Tay’s love of this person like before. “Your love” is the secret. As I’ve pointed out that affirmation of requitedness never happens in the Kaylor anthems and hiding out in the dark. Additionally “idea of luxury” is very different to her drug imagery from the Kaylor songs, by the way. This is not addictive, this is just nice.

And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa And all at once, you are all I want, I’ll never let you go

I believe the “all at once” contrasts the love/lust at first sight feelings she expressed for Karlie. This didn’t “hit her like bang” - it surprised her after a few weeks. And it’s not just a physical connection. This person rules her heart, body and soul.

And what do they do together? Well it’s less ripping off clothes and more chilled hangouts with someone who makes her happy:

Is this the end of all the endings? My broken bones are mending With all these nights we’re spending Up on the roof with a school girl crush Drinking beer out of plastic cups Say you fancy me, not fancy stuff Baby, all at once, this is enough

This is very cute. It’s very much lacking anxiety. She’s happy with her new person; it is finally “enough”. That’s not true for her relationship with Karlie. “School girl crush” is a very cutesy image - and is in stark contrast to the craving, shaking, pining, and bedpost carving that came with “not wanting you like a best friend”. Notice how the second relationship uses constant friendship/platonic imagery and how that type of imagery is not expressly disavowed in the Kaylor songs.

I also think it’s worth contrasting the “beer out of plastic cups” on the roof with “I’m spilling wine in the bathtub” and “eyes like liquor”. All three references are about drinking - but only one is peppy, cute and upbeat and the others are full of lustful desperation.

Now the other possible reading - implicitly favored by the Kaylor community - is that KOMH, CIWYW, and Delicate are set at a different point in the relationship to the sex songs. Unfortunately that doesn’t really hold water because, as I’ve pointed out, the origin story described is different. Kaylor “hit like bang” and fell in love at first sight. The other relationship started out slow and cautious, but quickly settled into something quietly special. These other songs are about a connection that’s chilled out and very emotional and cerebral. The Kaylor songs are about how much she wants to sex up Karlie and leave scratches down her back (which, I mean, fair). The other songs are about tentative emotions and cutesy intersections.

Also KOMH, CIWYW and Delicate are the three songs that feature British/foreign imagery. (This is why I think they’re about Lily or maaaaaybe Joe but again I doubt that and the scene in MA where a woman laughs during CIWYW contradicts it and I also have further lyrical evidence it’s not him which I’ll address below). In KOMH she says “you fancy me” and describes herself as “an American queen”, in CIWYW her baby’s “fit like a daydream” and in Delicate she asks about the “girls back home”. Also East side and West side in Delicate make more sense as being about London. Dive bars in the East End are a vibe. But that’s neither here nor there.

Why is this analysis important? To me it shows that contrary to the rosy Kaylor depictions, the Kaylor lyrics consistently show they always had massive issues (not dissimilar to her issues with Di actually).

Very quickly on why Joe’s not the muse: he’s referenced in Dress in a verse makes no sense lyrically or musically or thematically in the song and I think is only there to make it slightly less gay because otherwise the song is making Kaylor Facebook official. But the “wake up by your side” doesn’t fit in with the pining and anticipation and drunken bath time fun. It’s just thrown in there as deflection. It doesn’t actually fit the other relationship on the album - it’s very romantic but “my one and only, my lifeline” is not the cutesy tone of the other songs. This verse is just made up and slapped in to feed the hets. The musical accompaniment is so markedly different that it is clear it literally doesn’t belong in the song. The other song that makes reference to him, I believe, is “Ready for it”. I think “I keep him forever, like a vendetta” is very much about her plans for him. But it’s a very different thought to “is this the end of all the endings?” because that’s a far less certain emotion. She’s only 100% sure about Joe because it’s… not real.

And final note: Getaway Car is obviously a satirical piece about Hiddlestunt obviously. And I think New Year’s Day is a general love song about the type of relationship she wants, similar to some of her early songs, not about Karlie or Di or Lily/whoever else. It’s missing any of the imagery associated with either relationship except “don’t ever become a stranger” but it might be written from diary entries (which she has shown us she does). Final final note: I don’t know for sure who Gorgeous is about. It could just be a song about hot girls more generally.

If anyone is interested in further thoughts, I’m happy to do this for Lover and folklore too. I think we need to challenge the myth of Kaylor being perfect. And I think we should listen closely and let the lyrics speak for themselves.

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thanks for taking the time to write all this up! let’s discuss!!!

#submission #reputation #reputation analysis

[czarojay]

I can’t stop thinking about how Wilbur’s music goes with Wilbur the dsmp character( not the real Wilbur Wilbur, the same thoughts don’t apply to irl Wilbur, don’t worry o/ ). So here it is a post where i’m gonna just talk about my thoughts on this topic. 

Not all songs worked for me like Jubilee line for example, so don’t be surprised they’re not included.

Gonna make it a long post so people uninterested can go on, have a nice scroll across your dash, cya next time :] 

Saline solution, not all the lyrics, but a big majority applies to the smp story of his.  

I think I've lost my mind Blurring the fact and the fiction 

This one i’ve used myself in one of my fanarts and i really think it works well with Wilbur. He’s lost himself in the banishment, unsure of whether they’re the heroes or the villains, until he’s gone insane, unsure of what’s the truth and who’s lying to him. Maybe he’s lying to himself? Maybe everyone is actually a traitor? 

I think I've made my choice I'm a disease playing victim Slip the fate slip the victory I think I've made my choice Sink secluded in hatred Void the plans friends are making I think I've found my voice I'm a leech sucking blood bags Taste defeat, it's a sandbag

This really works way too well in my opinion. Wilbur played the victim for a long time, that he untruly lost his presidentship, despite being the one who proposed the election in the first time. He was a poor overthrown rightful leader, not the terrorist some people viewed him as. 

But in the end he did void the plans friends were making. When Tubbo became the president, he left, he made his choise, he let the victory slip, he decided to throw it all to the ground and blow it up. Wilbur the character, was a leech of L’Manburg, Pogtopia and for a brief moment New L’Manburg. At first a looked up to leader, became a person who manipulates others, causes death and destruction and is the source of problems in the end. 

Your Sister Was Right doesn’t have the same energy to me as the song above does, but I still could quite easily find bits which hit me badly.

I thought I couldn't love anymore Turns out I can't, but not for the same reasons as before I use everyone I ever meet I can't find the perfect match Abuse those I love While I ostracize the ones who love me Back

Wilbur the smp character did abuse and manipulate and use people around him. The first wasn’t as noticeable at first, but in the end, I feel it might have been more emotional rather than physical abuse? It’s hard not to imagine all the ways Tubbo or Tommy could have been traumatised because of Wilbur. The Festival is just one of the examples. Tommy for a very brief moment did consider fleeing. He stayed just because Tubbo didn’t want to go with him. 

After the exile Wilbur started to ostracize people around him. He wasn’t the happy and good big brother to everyone of L’Manburg. He became a twisted man, he didn’t interact with them the same way. They didn’t understand him in the end, did they? They were all traitors, couldn’t be trusted. He was alone, he needed to do this by himself, didn’t he? I’m Sorry Boris doesn’t really feel like I could just take out the lyrics and point at Wilbur and go “This fits”. I’m gonna do it anyways and try to interprete them the best I can! 

I'm not good for anyone here We reached the end of a decade Greenwich morphs into an arcade Southwark turns into a highway Up to hamlets, a tax break Newham, Islington a headache And Richmond's still shit

This could work with L’Manburg. This is the end of this era, isn’t it? All the ideals Wilbur stood for have been abandoned. They don’t fight with words anymore, they use weapons. They’re not fighting against the bad guys, Dream, they became the bad guys, terrorists here. They changed and so L’Manburg has also changed. Into Manburg. The walls are gone, buildings abandoned, the hto dog van devastated, new buildings growing and Manburg looks barely like it used to look like. It’s not L’Manburg anymore and even if they won it back it could never be the same, right?

But they'll knock down the pubs before helping you They'll burn down your towers before helping you They'll charge for your healthcare before helping you They'll let you jump under trains before helping you

If you squint hard enough, this could be Wilbur speaking to Niki. Schlatt taxed her more, Sapnap killed Fungi, Fundy, her friend and co-runned for the presidency, in the end also abandoned her for Schlatt, even if he was a spy. 

Even Wilbur abandoned her, waiting for the right moment supposedly, but taking her under his wing only after the Festival, which was when he would kill her along with countless other people if the button plan did work. She was on her own.

And even though I'm finished I'm not quite done with it No matter how far I run south I'm always there My lovers, my colleagues My best friends and enemies I don't think I want to leave you

This could apply to many things. To how Wilbur was in the room 8 times, yet didn’t press it. To how Wilbur gave countless chances, occasions for the problem to be solved without detonating the tnt. But it could also not work at all, since he wasn’t finished. He said so himself. Unfinished symphony. 

But at the same time, he didn’t want to leave them. He became a ghost and ghosts only stay when they have unfinished business behind. He must have decided he didn’t want to leave them, he decided to stay after his death.

And finally Since I Saw Vienna. The song which pushed my to making this post.

I am not going to copy and paste the whole song here, cause that would be such a bother to read and make sense at the same time, so instead i will just talk about my interpretation instead. And I am not saying this interpretation is the best or the correct one, but it’s how i choose to understand this.

Since I Saw Vienna is about a person of fluid personality, a person who also walks and moves and travels. In the second verse the lyrical subject’s goal are described as " horizon's my target “ and it makes me think of a person who has a goal set in mind and tries to reach it, but can’t. It’s moving so they move as well, trying to reach it (” If I keep on moving, never lose sight of it “). 

And doesn’t that sound so similar to Wilbur? He keeps trying to achieve his goal, but in the end he lost it, he doesn’t know what it is anymore. 

Treating my memory of you like a fire, let it Burn out, don't fight it, and try to move on

And this sounds like Wilboo doesn’t it? His memory problems? He does try to remember, but still it’s a little too close for me, not to think about. 

And finally,

I'll pick up my hiking boots when I am ready And I'll put down my roots when I'm dead

These are one of the rawest lines I’ve seen. Maybe not to all people, but this is the part of the song which hits me the hardest.

This is Wilboo. Wilbur is dead, he moved the whole live, he tried to achieve something, he fought, he lived, he lost, he won and he died. He focused on nothing other than reaching his goal during his life. He said he wanted one day to build a small cottage or wood hut in the forest to retire to one day, but he never grasped any chance to do that, he just kept going, trying to achieve something. 

Really, he settled down only when he died. He’s happy again, as happy as he can be with people being anxious around him and his memory being blank and seemingly becoming more and more empty with each day he lives through as a ghost. Only now, he’s building a house, enjoying his post mortiem life.

He’s putting his roots down only now, when he’s dead. 

#Wilbur Soot #Wilbur #Ghostbur #Analysis #Song #your city gave me asthma #dream smp #Nihachu #Tommyinnit #Focus on Wilbur #ideas and analysis

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Five: The One with the Tour

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2476

    Scott Harvey was a manipulative man. He knew how to get what he wanted when he wanted and was never one to take no for an answer. He'd do whatever it took to ensure he had people wrapped around his finger so that he could snap his fingers and have what he desired in his hands at a moment’s notice. And Lily fell for that. She became the next in a long line of women who were eating out of the palm of his hand, all because he promised her the world. He promised her security, happiness, and peace. Instead, she got fear, chaos, and emotional trauma. The exact thing she was terrified of. He used her anxiety against her, used the fragility of her mind to keep her trapped in his web like a fly.

She was sort of thankful for Mary. she was a sweet woman, the two got along and were pretty amicable. Lily knew if she needed anything, Mary would help out, and vice versa. Because you can have a messy marriage, but keep a healthy relationship with the wrecking ball that destroyed the thin wall that still stood. Lily was grateful for Mary because she was able to open the blonde’s eyes to see what was going on. The web of lies that Scott had caught Lily in, like a spider, finding its next meal.

And every time she saw him, saw that sideways smile and forehead creases, all of the emotions he caused caught up to Lily in a ball, and took up camp in the middle of her throat, rendering her speechless for the majority of their brief conversations. Which is where we pick up, in the hallway of Scott and Mary's apartment building, Scott holding his daughter, Leila, in his arms. something Lily didn't believe she had ever seen her ex do with their son.

"Traffic was insane...sorry I'm a little late." Lily mumbled, her broken eyes darting everywhere, in an attempt to keep them from making contact with the deep-set hazel of Scott’s iris'.

"Don't apologize. I'll never complain about spending a bit longer with Hunter." Scott said, his voice still as soft as a marshmallow. Lily couldn't help but wince ever so gently as it floated into her ears, sending a rush of adrenaline and nerves to her heart, picking up its pace.

"Mom!" a young boy’s voice called before bursting past the older man, almost knocking down his mother, gripping onto her waist.

"Hey kiddo," Lily smiled, hand running through the blonde locks atop of her son’s head, smiling gently as he hid his face into her side. turning her attention back to Scott, she gave a weak smile, "Thanks for letting me pick him up early. my parents are coming down for dinner."

“No problem. Say hi to Abel and Alicia for me," Scott smiled, causing a shiver to run down Lily's spine. The idea of saying that Scott said hi made Lily sick to her stomach. Her parents despised the father of their grandson, for good reason. As far as the Osborne parents were concerned, Scott was a dead man, "See ya, buddy."

Saying a quick goodbye, Lily and Hunter found themselves back in the car as quickly as the conversation that just happened. Hunter was quiet at first, waiting for Lily to regain her composure for the second time that day. Her forehead rested on the leather of her steering wheel, deep breaths escaping her lips as her fingers wrapped around the wheel. A few moments later, Lily relaxed back into her seat, turning on the car.

"So Grandma and Grandpa are coming over?" Hunter asked, breaking the comfortable silence the mother and son had going on, "When did you find out?"

Lily tried her best to repress the smile the threatened to explode onto her face. She loved giving Hunter surprises. With everything the boy has been through, being able to see his face light up when he's faced with something unexpected was the only high she'd ever need. It was rare to see such extreme emotion out of Hunter, and let alone something as raw as the joy he gets with surprises. And this one that she had planned, it would go down in history. He would be talking about it for ages to come, for the rest of his life even. That's what Lily wanted, for him to create perfect childhood memories he'd be able to tell his kids in the future. To gather them up around the table at Christmas and pass stories around about how he and Grandma spent a day with Earth’s mightiest heroes and got to see where they worked. That was the goal of a parent, to make their child's days as memorable as they could.

"Oh the other day they mentioned it, but nothing was ever confirmed. I got a text this morning from Grandma about it," Lily hummed nonchalantly as she pulled out of the Brooklyn apartment complex, and turned onto the busy roads.

Connecting his phone to the Apple car play that came with the vehicle, Hunter spoke again, "That'll be nice. I know you miss seeing them sometimes. Long Island is so far away from Manhattan, why did you move away?"

Lily's smile grew wide, the dimple in her cheek creating a cavern of happiness at her son’s words. He was as intuitive as they come, and as observant as all get out. Truly, Lily believed herself to be one of the luckiest mothers in the world to be blessed with an angel-like Hunter. He was pure of heart and as sharp as a whip. He always picked up on Lily's microaggressions, and all of the small mannerisms she showed while in certain moods. She was never sure how he became as smart as he did, but doctors insisted it was because of her intelligence. That it carried on down to her son, and how he reflected her as a child. And Lily lived a loving and wonderful childhood, so hopefully, that too would relay to her son.

Reaching over to ruffle his hair, Lily let out a gentle sigh, "Well Hunter, I moved out here to the city with Auntie Gen when I graduated high school. I got into Columbia University, which was my dream school. So I came out here to study, while Aunt Gen was over in NYU, studying business. I moved out here for the opportunity, and I'm glad I did because you were the result."

Hunter let out a small noise as he acknowledged the story that his mother just shared while scanning Spotify for the best playlist. The two loved the eighties and nineties, so he settled on a premade group of songs from that era. The bass boomed throughout the car as the two began to belt out the lyrics to Billie Jean by Michael Jackson. It was moments like these when Lily felt most content. Just her and Hunter, living their best lives together as they sang to oldies but goodies. Being able to see his eyes light up whenever they passed a cool-looking building or when they saw a cute dog or one that looked like Joey. Her favourite moment though, the cream of the crop is when he sings. Though not a professional, he always looked so at ease while letting his voice dance through the car.

About twenty minutes into the drive, he caught on though, "This isn't the way home. Where are we going?" his voice rang, turning down the volume of the Lionel Richie.

She had to think quickly. If he noticed the slightest of hesitation in Lily's speech, the surprise would be blown, and he wouldn't be surprised when they didn't stop at home. So, she did what she thought would throw him off the most, "We've gotta hit a grocery store on the way home. Aunt Gen needs something for the cafe and this is the only place that sells it near here. Is that okay kiddo?"

Nodding, he turned the music back up. This meant that he believed what she said. If he didn't, he'd press on further. Interrogating Lily until he got the truth out of her. He would make a hell of a lawyer in the future, due to the strange ability he had of getting into people’s minds. He was like Scott in that way, but different at the same time. He never used it to manipulate, or use people, but to find out the truth. Get the answers. learn. That was Hunter’s goal, not to make people the puppets in his little game. he was curious, that was all.

Shortly after the small conversation between the two introverts, Lily took the turn that would lead them straight to the compound. Her aged eyes glanced towards the world that sat in her passenger seat. He hadn't noticed yet, and Lily was thankful. It would be more exhilarating if he didn't realize until they went up to the door. Knocking on the door and having someone like Captain America answer? Now that was something that Lily would love to witness. To see her son's heart swell at the sight of one of his heroes answering the door. She could only imagine what he would say, and couldn't seem to fathom how he would react.

Pulling into the parking lot, Lily stopped the car and turned it off, capturing Hunters’ attention. He sat up in his seat and glanced out the window, a confused yet intrigued look masking his typical stoic facial expression. Stepping out of the car, Lily gestured with her left hand to follow her up towards the doors. Hesitantly, Hunter followed along, his shoes making gentle noises on the rocks and pebbles below his feet.

"Where are we?" he questioned, hand slipping into the fragile one of his mothers, "and why are your hands always so cold?"

Lily remained silent, simply walking up the stairs of the compound. Her neck craned to look down at the bewildered boy, who couldn't help but swivel his head around in an attempt to recognize his surroundings. But the only time he would have ever seen this place was maybe in pictures, so Lily was sure that she had gotten the surprise in the bag. That she was able to dupe the boy that could rarely ever be surprised. Now that would be an accomplishment.

Lily's free hand reached up and knocked on the grey doors in front of them, pursing and nibbling on her lips in an attempt to hide the mischievous and prideful grin that threatened to give away the present. She had been looking forward to this moment the entire car ride, hardly being able to contain the excitement that rushed through her veins at the idea of her son’s wildest dreams coming true. Well, his wildest dream would be to become an Avenger or any sort of superhero. But a mother could only do so much.

Voices rang out behind the door before it was swung open to reveal Sam Wilson. The man who had originally offered to take the eleven-year-old boy on a tour of the place, "Lily! you made it, was starting to get worried you two would bail on us," he teased, chocolate brown eyes readjusting to look down at the blonde boy beside Lily, "Hey Hunter, nice to see you again."

Her son’s hand had slipped out of her own, which caught Lily's attention. she looked down at him and felt her heart swell about a million times bigger than it already was. His smile reached ear to ear, cheeks growing to a rosy red and his pupils dilated to eleven. He seemed frozen, stuck to his one position on the porch step of the Avengers compound. Her frail hand tapped the boy on the back, urging him to respond and walk into the building.

"He's a tad awestruck it seems," Lily chuckled, taking his small hand into her own and walking past the threshold of the home, "It took me a bit to find this place."

"Privacy is key for us," a voice rang out from a bit away. Lily's eyes averted towards the sound and she spotted Captain America. The Captain America. Steve Rogers. Every girl’s dream man. He was even more gorgeous in person, and Lily couldn't help but feel choked up as she looked at him. The way his chest looked as though it was going to burst through the fabric of his shirt, or how she could see his sky blue eyes from eight meters away, "Glad you guys could make it. Picked a perfect day, everyone’s around."

"Why don't I take Hunter down through the compound so he can get the full tour," Sam grinned down at the beaming boy, "Will you be joining us, Ms. Osborne?"

Oh no. If she went, her mind wouldn't be able to handle it. The idea of walking around with her son in a place like this was already overwhelming. Feeling as though she should be able to do more to give him the luxury life he so badly deserved. Making him feel as though he was the king of the world. Not to mention, the entire place itself was a lot to take in. And with her anxiety already running high today, it would be better for Lily's mind and heart to wait out in the car or something. Plus, Hunter was with the Falcon, she had no worries.

"It's okay, you two go have fun, I'll wait in the car," Lily said, a tight smile pulling at the sides of her lips as she ran a thumb across her son’s chin, nodding for him to follow the superhero. And as if he was in a trance, Hunter followed Sam like a zombie, or may a dog following a treat. Either would work in this scenario.

"Oh no don't go wait in your car, come sit with us. I'm sure Bucky wouldn't mind seeing you again after your run-in yesterday," Steve smiled, making Lily's knees feel like they had miraculously turned into jello, "He's making blueberry pancakes for a part of the team."

Lily's mouth ran dry. Blueberry pancakes. Just like the ones she had gotten the day prior. The ones he had asked her about. Her cheeks grew hot as a magenta colour blush forced itself onto them, giving away the embarrassment and intrigue she had. It couldn't have been anything. He was just making blueberry pancakes. That's normal. It was an average thing for people to do. Especially when you've got nothing else to do. right?

"He knew you may have been coming, that's why he made them." Steve whispered as he offered his arm for Lily, beginning to lead her towards the kitchen.

So he did make them on purpose.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female oc #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #original character #original female character #female oc #OC #oc tag #marvel #marvel fanfiction #the winter soldier #the avengers #fanfiction #tfatws #single mom #sebastian stan #fluffy #romance #comedy

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction | Studying Together [Request]

A/N: I made this a college AU I hope this is okay for you love!

Seokjin:

"Alexa play my Lofi playlist," Jin heard you call out as he walked into your dorm room, he was carrying drinks in one hand and a bag in the other. He was late for your study session together and he felt awful so he stopped by to get food and drinks to make it up to you.

"You're late," You called out once you heard the floorboards creaking to let you know he was there, he sighed holding up the food and drinks as a peace sign and you smiled at him,

"You're lucky I'm so forgiving." You joked getting up from the table to take the coffee he was holding out for you, you sipped on it despite his warning about it being hot.

"I organised everything," You said as you pointed at the table in your kitchen, it was covered in pieces of paper, folders and flashcards all ready for you both to read from and quiz each other on. He should have been used to this after dating you for the last two years of your college lives but it was still surprising to him to see you have so many notes on one subject.

"It's one history exam-" He stopped talking once he saw the glare he was getting from you, he slipped out of his jacket and went to hang it up. You'd been in the same class together which was how you met and started dating for so long and you were going to pass this class if it was the last thing you ever did.

"I'm going to start on the tudor times and then move on from there, pick whatever you want." He stared at you as you lifted up a giant folder and began flicking through it until you got to the section that you needed. It was going to be a long day and night but as long as you were there to study with him he didn't mind at all.

Yoongi:

You thought that the final exam you and Yoongi would be something practical but instead, you were both taking a written exam while submitting a project together.

"This is stupid, why did it have to be a written exam." He groaned next to you, you were sitting in the library together huddled over a couple of textbooks wondering what could possibly be covered on a written exam instead of something you could physically create and show your talent.

"I know Yoongi, but once it's done it's done and it only counts as 20% to the final." You tried to reassure him but he was far too nervous about all of this for it to be blown off so simple as it not being too much credit.

"Look, I'll help you study and then when you pass you can buy me dinner to thank me." He chuckled as you laid your hand on his thigh as a sign of support. You believed he could pass this if he just put his mind to it. He was sure he couldn't do this but he was willing to give it a try if you were going to be this supportive of him, he'd always expressed his disgust for exams like this which was why he liked the music course so much. It was more projects than handwritten work - except for lyrics.

"I won't let you fail." You teased him kissing his cheek as you got up from the table, you were going to be there for a while so you were going to go on the hunt for food and drink to keep you both stable until you could convince Yoongi to go and get a decent meal with you.

Hoseok:

"Hobi I can't." You were sweating and panting against the cold mirror, your dance exam was coming up in less than four days and you still hadn't nailed the dance move you were struggling the most with. It was a lift - much like the one in the infamous movie everyone loved so much. Hoseok had to lift you into the air by your waist before bringing you back down into his arms.

"We can't replace the move," He told you as he restarted the song for what felt like the thousand times that day, you weren't going to be able to pass this final exam without it and you both knew that.

"Can I just have two minutes?" He watched as you slid down the mirror and sat on the floor, you felt defeated. You'd spent weeks trying to do the move, going around to different places to practice it. You could do the lift in the water, a kids ball pit and even in a field of grass but doing it somewhere like here, somewhere you could get hurt was bugging you out.

"Do you trust me?" He questioned wiping sweat from his head on the back of his hand, you knew he was getting frustrated with you since you were just as equally frustrated with yourself.

"With my life but-"

"Is it the nerves?" You nodded, the thought about doing it in front of everyone was the part throwing you off - that and the thought of smashing your face against the hard dance floor.

"So imagine they're not there when we do it and trust me enough to know I won't let you fall." He breathed wanting you to trust him as you did in your relationship.

"From the top." You whispered getting up from the floor and getting ready to nail the dance.

Namjoon:

Namjoon was giving you a hard stare as you stuttered over your words for the seventh time since you started talking, you groaned laying your head down on the desk in front of you.

"You can't look at me like that, it makes me anxious." You snapped at him, you were both getting annoyed with the upcoming exam. While Namjoon had his speech planned and ready you were still struggling to get through talking it through with him nevermind getting it up in front of a class full of students and presenting it.

"Why are speaking exams a thing? They're stupid." You grumbled looking at the flashcards, around the edges were small words of encouragement from Namjoon but they weren't helping you.

"I might fail it on purpose-"

"No, come on. How many times have I told you that you can do this?" You sighed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist trying to comfort you in any way that he could but it wasn't helping you.

"Maybe I'm just not meant to pass this speaking exam." He sighed at how you were trying to discourage yourself from it but he wasn't going to let you give up so easily.

"You can normally do this in front of me, why is it hard tonight?" You sighed looking over at his friends who were all sitting on the other sofa, he'd brought them along to try and help you more.

"So just pretend they're not here, look at me and no one else. We'll do the same in the exam." He promised you kissing you on the cheek and returning to where he had been sitting before, he wasn't going to let you give up on yourself so easily.

Jimin

It was Jimin's idea to have a study date at the library but it looked like he'd decided to stand you up, you began sliding your textbook back into your bag when the door burst open and he walked into the room carrying textbooks, notebooks and what looked like coffee on top of everything he was carrying.

"Where have you been?" You giggled taking the coffees from him and placing them onto the desk beside you, he held up some new psychology textbooks and smiled.

"I waited outside all night for these, they're going to help us on the exam and then the stationary shop next door was having a sale on highlights and I know these are your favourite." He said sliding a packet of highlighters in front of you, you had a superstition that if you used these highlighters whenever you were studying you were sure to pass. He knew that since you freaked out the last time one ran out on you and you called him at 3 in the morning crying about no shops being open, so drove to your dorm room to make sure you went to sleep instead of cramming for a practice exam.

"Jimin you didn't have-"

"Yes I did, I also got your study drink and some new post-it notes for us because I know how much you love post-it notes." He kissed your lips softly and sat you down in front of him so he could show you properly everything he bought.

Taehyung:

Taehyung was quizzing you on the colour wheel while you sat on the sofa trying to quiz him on all the famous painters that were bound to be on the final Art History exam. You'd both met on your first day of the art class became best friends until it eventually led to years of you dating and now it was the final year. You were still together and as strong as ever as you tried to cram for final exams together and keep each other from going insane.

"Next chapter is your favourite." You laughed flicking over to the next page of the art history textbook and smiling as you saw all of your favourite paintings. He came over and dropped onto the floor beside you, reciting his plan to take you to Amsterdam and visit the Van Gough museum that was there. It had been his plan to take you to every art museum in the world but Amsterdam was the realistic goal for now. You were both planning on going as a way of celebrating for when you passed the final exams together.

"I think we've got it down." He mumbled flicking over the page, you had everything down. You both had a huge passion for the course and knew everything there was to know about it, the final exam was going to be simple but the final project was painting a huge portrait of yourself in any art style you had learnt over the last few years. Now all that was left was making sure you had the style down before you went into the exam.

Jungkook:

You stared at your boyfriend who was sitting carelessly in your dorm bedroom, you were trying to study from a book while he sat throwing a ball to the wall and back into his hand.

"You could at least act like you're studying to make me feel better." You grumbled taking a highlighter from your pencil case and highlighting yet another fact your brain seemed to be neglecting to take in.

"It's not my fault I soak up everything we learn like a sponge." You glared at him from your bed and went back to the criminology book you were trying to remember but nothing seemed to be staying inside of your head.

"You need to take a break." He whispered watching as you stressed about not being able to get anything to stay in your head.

"I can't. Not all of us can get away without studying Jungkook." You snapped, you didn't want to snap at him but you were stressed out about everything and the smallest thing seemed to make you snap lately.

"I'm serious," He closed the book and put it on your desk, he got onto the bed behind you and began rubbing your shoulders.

"Staring at the same page and expecting different results each time isn't going to work. You need to just take a minute, okay?" You nodded closing your eyes as he continued rubbing your shoulders to try and help you unwind. He chuckled as you let out a small moan about how nice it felt.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @snowy-meowl​ @snowy-meowl​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @innersooya​ @taestannie​ 

#bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts reaction #bts reactions #seokjin #jin #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #hoseok x reader #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #park jimin #jimin #jimin x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader

[min-youngis]

Electric Hearts

gif not mine (but i have it saved on my phone and i watch it everyday over breakfast)

~ Pairing : Nakamoto Yuta x Reader (Rival Bands AU, Bassist x Vocalist)

~ Genre : Fluff, Humour, Kinda Maybe Not Really Angst

~ Summary : In the span of four years, you go from acquainting with Yuta to hating Yuta and then finally dating Yuta, all against the backdrop of a summer band competition.

Strangers to Enemies to Lovers

~ Word Count : many (14,327)

~ Warnings : alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use, swearing, very slow burn, me waxing lyrical for too many paras about how much i love and miss being on stage

~ A/N : it is HERE and it is GLORIOUS and it makes me want to PERFORM give me a MIC PLEASE anyway yeah yuta hot g-idle hot everybody is hot basically. stream electric hearts by wayv.

i’d love to hear feedback! spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

Year 1, Eleventh Grade

The flyer lands square on your nose, momentarily blinding you before you primly pluck it off, turning it around so you can read the contents while flipping off Kun, who leans on the grill next to the school wall that’s identically holding you up.

‘Annual Summer Bash - Battle of the Bands 2018’ the brochure reads in bold, red font, followed by registration and contact details. Not that you require them.

“Why do we need this?” you ask, confused. “We've been going and winning every year since middle school, I’m pretty sure I have the organiser's number memorised.”

The drummer fixes you with a dark look. “We might not win this time,” he says, cryptically.

Disbelieving, you scoff, “Oh, come off it. Who’s gonna beat us, Verve?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Sure, and Ten's gonna get a sport’s scholarship,” you reply, sarcasm dripping from your voice, very obviously referring to your keyboardist and his inability to kick a ball.

Kun sniffs in disapproval. “I wouldn’t be so confident, if I were you. They’ve got a new bassist, some kid who’s just moved here.”

“It’s going to take a fat lot more than a new bassist to fix that mess.”

You get a glare in response and roll your eyes, conceding, “Okay, fine. They aren’t that bad. But still, we don’t know how good the new person even is. What happened to Johnny anyway? Too cool for us little people, now that he’s gone to college?”

“Johnny’s judging this year.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Kun's displeasure is evident in his pursed lips and stern eyes.

Dramatically, unnecessarily so, he continues, accurately taking your silence for incredulity. “We've got all the odds stacked against us. If we want to win, we need to practice harder than ever before.”

“What do you mean, if we want to win. Of course we want to win,” you reply in a disgusted tone, looking him up and down in judgement.

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now. “Yes, yes, we want to win. But we still need to practice more if Johnny’s judging. Verve's been coming in second only by a couple of points for the last two years, they’re getting better,” he insistently says.

Pushing yourself off of the wall, you straighten up on noticing a black car moving on the road, slowing down as it nears the school entrance next to which the two of you are poised. You pick your bag off the floor and sling it over your shoulder.

“We'll be fine, we have four months left. We’ve done incredible on less,” you say, slowly backing away from Kun, as you speak in a reassuring voice.

Blatantly disregarding what you just said, he digs his phone out of his pocket while muttering distractedly, “We should have a band meeting today. I’ll tell the others.”

Cheerily, you shrug at him. “Can’t,” you declare, as the car pulls up next to curb right in front of you.

Eyebrows scrunched, he looks up, as he asks, “Why not?”

“Got a hot date.”

The window of the driver’s seat rolls down and your girlfriend sticks her head out.

“All right, Kun?” Soyeon asks with a genial smile, as you give him a wave and a slightly apologetic ‘Meet tomorrow!’ strolling over to the other side of the car.

“Can’t complain,” he replies to her greeting with a shrug, while simultaneously throwing you a dirty look. “College going fine?”

You open the passenger seat door and enter, shifting your backpack to your lap, as she says with a grin, “Ah, spring break. Can’t complain.”

And with one last ‘Tomorrow, I promise!’ at a disgruntled Kun, you and Soyeon drive off.

You aren’t as worried as he is. The competition has always gone your band's way. You’re damned if you're going to let some new bassist come out of nowhere and change that.

                                          ________________________

Three weeks later, you and Ten are setting up in his garage where the band always practice, now knowing the routine like the back of your hand.

After forming in middle school as a group of kids who just wanted to make some music together and shockingly winning the annual city-wide band competition, the group has stayed tight-knit, despite Lisa and Hendery (electric and bass respectively) moving to a different high school. You perform at charity events during the academic year and win the Summer Bash every summer without fail. You work like a well-oiled machine, easily picking up cues on stage and figuring out last minute set lists, and even with how everybody roams in different social circles now, the group chat never stays silent for long.

Meeting up for an arbitrary practice session every month is a given, but the time you guys spend preparing for the competition every year is easily your favourite.

Hendery announces his presence in the make-shift jam room with a loud ‘What’s up, fuckers,’ before the usual hugs all around (“Hendery, you stink,” courtesy Ten, followed by a genuinely touched, “Thanks, dude!” from the man himself, who has a look of abject glee on his face at the comment).

He settles next to the keyboard, plugging in the amp and tuning his bass, as you and Ten arrange the drum kit.

“Where’s Kun?” Hendery asks, lazily fiddling with his G string.

“Talking to the organisers. He’s been obsessed with trying to find out more about Verve’s new bassist. Calls him, and I quote, the one thing that could stand between us and eternal glory.”

Hendery gives Ten an offended look. “What’s he going and asking the organisers for? He can just ask us, can’t he? Yuta's joined Bayshore High after all.”

“Yuta?” you ask quizzically.

At the same time, Kun emerges at the garage entrance, mouth agape. “He what?”

Hendery's face immediately splits into his signature grin at the drummer's appearance, getting up and placing his guitar on the side so he can give him a hug.

“Never mind that,” Kun snaps, quite hurtfully in your opinion. Hendery’s being nothing but nice. And also high, if his slightly dopey eyes are anything to go by.

“Why didn’t you tell me he’s in Bayshore?” he demands from an admirably quickly recovered Hendery, who’s now wrapped his arms around Kun's waist, despite the latter's greatest protests.

Stoned Hendery is physical Hendery.

At that moment, Lisa totters into the garage from the door at the back that leads into the house, guitar bag strapped to her back, lugging her amp in with both hands, cheerily calling out, “Why are we talking about Bayshore, what happened?”

You rush over, helping her carry the amp to the other end of the garage as you return her grateful smile with an amused one of your own.

“Kun wants to know about Yuta,” Hendery says, voice slightly muffled by the drummer's old-man jumper, ass cocked out at an angle so his head is at chest level.

Kun gives an exasperated groan, prying your bassist off while whining, “Why are you guys talking like he’s your best friend or something?”

“He sits next to us during lunch!” Lisa explains cheerily, as she connects her guitar to the amp.

“He’s got the best goods, dude,” Hendery enthusiastically says.

Kun rolls his eyes. He looks like he’s aged twenty years in the last ten minutes. You make eye contact with Ten and have to look away so the two of you don’t burst into giggles.

“I really don’t care about where he sits or the quality of his weed, I just want to know if he can play,” he says, making his way to the drum kit at the back.

Both Lisa and Hendery look at each other contemplatively.

“We haven’t heard him play,” she thinks out loud. “Yeah, can’t say I’ve even seen him around with a guitar,” he nods in agreement.

Kun takes his seat, now looking a little calmer after getting in position. “Well, try finding out,” he says, tugging his sticks out of the backpack near his stool.

You walk towards the mic stand in the centre, Lisa on one side and Hendery on the other, Ten on the far right corner and Kun directly behind the lot of you.

After a bit of shuffling around, everybody gets ready, and as Kun counts down and the bass line begins, you let yourself slip. Yuka, or whatever his name is, won’t know what hits him.

                                      ________________________

The heat doesn’t let up, even after sun down, humidity lingering thick in the air, but it’s the last thing on your mind. You let your sneakers repeatedly scuff against the skirting in the large waiting room, as the rest of your band moves around you, pacing and tuning and flipping drum sticks. There are multiple groups littered around the hall like yours, everybody in various degrees of nervousness, heavy in anticipation. A couple of other regulars come over, wishing you luck and getting the same in return, but a usually polite Kun seems weirdy distracted, as he stands on his tip toes and appears to be looking for somebody.

His eyebrows scrunch up in apparent dissatisfaction, and he comes back down mumbling, “They still have only three people, where's Yuta?”

Despite their greatest efforts, Lisa and Hendery weren’t able to get any concrete information on Verve's new bassist, and it’s been driving Kun insane. You know that once he gets behind his drum kit on stage in front of the crowd, he’ll be unstoppable and completely in the zone, but until then, the lot of you put up with his grumbling and head shaking, knowing that if he doesn’t have something to obsess over, he'll most likely spontaneously combust.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers, body already in overdrive, the taste of the stage so very close, and as you catch a glimpse of the PAR lights switching on amidst deafening cheers from the growing audience, your heart swoops up, threatening to burst if you don’t get in front of the mic soon.

Conversation slows to a hush as three people enter the room, looking very important with their name tags, and everybody’s head swivels to land on them.

You can tell that Johnny enjoys all the attention, as he gives a charming grin before saying “Hey, guys! Just thought we'd wish you luck before you went on stage. Keep it fair and remember to have fun! It isn’t a competition, it’s a concert.” He ends to the sounds of appreciative chuckles from some of the newbies, but majority of the seniors, including your band, look at him with deeply mistrusting gazes. Ten leans towards you and bitterly mutters, “Smarmy git. Like he didn’t try tripping Hendery last year before we went on stage.”

Johnny appears to be unfazed, directing a quick wink at his old, grinning (still three member) band, as the other judges, a high school music teacher and an ex drummer of a one-hit wonder group, give their own ‘Best of luck!’s.

Before you know it, you can hear the MC on stage welcoming everybody, and that spring in your stomach compresses more and more, almost painfully so, just waiting to be out there, under the lights, in front of the audience, surrounded by your band with the mic in your hand.

Rosewater (stylised as Rosewater! by your resident future arts major, Ten) is the second last group in the line-up, right before Verve closes out the show, and you have no doubt that you lost that last spot all because of Johnny. The infamous Yuta hasn’t made an appearance yet and distantly, you wonder how the rest of his band is holding up so well, looking as if the man's just going to appear out of thin air, with barely five minutes left for the competition to begin.

The bands that go on before you don’t pose much of a threat. Some of them are new, most you’ve competed against before, but either way, you aren’t worried. When you walk up the steps to the stage to sounds of thunderous applause after the MC announces, “Now it’s time for our four time champion, Rosewater!” you can feel your blood pounding in your ears, the coil in your abdomen now wound excruciatingly tight.

And finally, as Kun's counting down, the keyboard starts, there’s a mic in front of you and hundreds of wide, excited eyes staring at the stage, you feel that coil abruptly unwind rapidly until it completely disappears. You wrap your fingers around the stand, shooting a confident wink at a grinning Soyeon in the first row, and as you open your mouth to sing, you know you’re home.

In what feels like the blink of an eye, you’re all off stage, adrenaline coursing through you and sweat making your clothes stick to your frame. The applause and cheering continues till you’re backstage, bottle of water in hand, and the grin you’re already sporting grows even wider, satisfied and elated with another good performance. You’ve got it in the bag, you’re sure, and if Kun's bouncing and smug smile is any indication, he agrees, all concerns about Verve out of the window.

After returning all your in-ear mics in the waiting room, the lot of you move backstage, crowding in the wings as you watch the last band set up. You can’t see the bassist from this angle, but when Jaehyun (vocals and keyboard) announces him as their newest member before starting, the crowd screams and you’re sure you hear an only half-joking voice from the audience shout, “Marry me, Yuta!”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, meeting Lisa’s amused gaze. ‘Pretty boy,’ she mouths at you with a blinding grin, still high off of the performance.

Kun seems to share your sentiment, his expression half gleeful and half relieved at your combined assumption that this Yuta is nothing more than a prop. They needed a bassist so the got the best-looking one they could find.

But the moment the music starts, your jaw drops. They’ve opted for a very Arctic Monkeys-esque, bass prominent beginning, and the skill with which the strings are being plucked makes you want to drown in the beautifully deep sound.

Not just a pretty boy apparently.

You want to be annoyed, you really do, but it’s difficult not to resist the pull of the music. It’s like they’re a completely different band, with Taeyong drumming harder than you ever remember him doing and Lucas shredding on the guitar.

You’ve long held the belief that your instrumentalists are the best in the competition, all these years giving you no reason to suspect the contrary, but this? This whole new band can give them a run for their money, you grudgingly admit, head helplessly bobbing to the beat.

Kun's face runs through shock, displeasure and reluctant admiration just in the span of the four bar intro. Around you, Ten, Lisa and Hendery seem to be having the time of their lives, apparently having given up on feeling attacked by the universe for this unexpected turn of events. The drummer shoots you a betrayed look, but all you can do is give him a soothing pat on his shoulder as your body begins to move as well.

For a split second in the middle of the show, you catch a glimpse of the elusive Yuta for the first time, face gleaming with sweat, dazzling grin on his face as he looks down at his guitar, plucking the strings effortlessly almost, body swaying and head bobbing.

You feel a grudging respect for him, as you observe him look up at the crowd, stage persona oozing charisma as he shoots a wink at some poor soul in the audience, cheers instantly growing that much louder.

As their performance progresses, the cockiness you felt at the end of your own slowly begins to morph into subtle worry as you consider the unthinkable occurring.

Losing.

And twenty minutes later, when all the bands are huddled on stage, waiting for the winners to be announced, you’re forced to seriously think about it happening. Kun nearly crushes your hand in a death grip, as Hendery worriedly chews at his long thumb nail on your other side.

The MC announces last to first, until there are just you and Verve left, vying for the top position. You’re certain you’ll never be able to feel your fingers again, but the pain seems oddly distant, all of your attention focused on the man standing in front of the two bands, everybody on stage facing the crowd.

As he’s waiting for the applause for third place to die down, you chance a glance at the other band standing next to you. Yuta looks infuriatingly calm, smug even, and your fledgling dislike intensifies.

“And now it’s time for first place-"

Please, please, I’ll go to the temple everyday for a week, I promise.

“In a surprise turn of events-"

I’m sorry for not believing in you earlier and for writing my English essay on atheism. I’ll make it up to you, please.

“For the first time in four years-"

Fuck off.

The cheers are deafening, and you’d almost forgotten how awful it felt to lose. It comes rushing at you, this out of body feeling, as the crowd doesn’t even wait for the band name to be announced. The rolling trophy that has ‘Rosewater!’ written on it four consecutive times, now with a new, shiny addition at the bottom, reading ‘Verve', is handed to the winners. You try not to let the dejection show, politely clapping and bowing, just like the rest of your band as the MC announces, “Congratulations to Rosewater on placing second!”

You walk off stage with a bitter taste in your mouth as you see Johnny hooting loudly and the band taking turns holding the trophy. As much as you want to believe that they won simply because an ex-member was judging, deep down, you know that they were much, much better than they used to be.

                                       ________________________

Every year, after the competition comes the real Summer Bash-a party organised for all participants and judges at a nearby party hall. It’s always super crowded, given that no less than twelve bands at the very least sign up every time, with three or four judges and multiple organisers scattered across the room.

You’ve always enjoyed the party, loving the attention as Rosewater totes the trophy around, greedily accepting congratulations and trying not to gloat at the other bands. Partway through the night, the person in charge of making sure no minors go to the bar always mysteriously disappears, so everybody has free rein with the alcohol, and it’s where you met Soyeon last year, after her band finished third before disbanding.

But the party feels like nothing short of hell right now, as you stand slouched against the wall in the corner with Kun, Lisa and Ten. Hendery entered the crowd a while back, leaving you to stare in astonishment and betrayal at the gap between writhing bodies that he had disappeared through. However, you know that in a room full of high school and college kids, most of them his regulars, he'll make one hell of a killing with his...products, and who are you to begrudge a good business plan?

The four of you plaster on fake smiles whenever somebody comes over to talk, but most of the time is spent glaring daggers at Verve preening in the centre of the dancefloor, trophy being tossed high in the air as they lap up the attention. They’ve always been decently popular in the party scene, on accunt of the fact that they all look like they’ve been carved from marble, but with Yuta, it’s like their popularity's skyrocketed. You don’t remember ever having those many people around you whenever Rosewater won.

Entering your line of vision, Soyeon comes fighting through a gap, holding two drinks high up in the air. She hands one over to you, coming to stand right in front of your frame. You take a sip of the Cranberry juice vodka mix and give her a grateful smile, before getting up on your toes so you can continue glaring at Yuta over her shoulder, as he begins a handstand to the sound of loud cheers from the surrounding crowd.

Your girlfriend huffs in amusement. “They can’t see you, there’s really no point.”

Mouth set in a grim line and arms crossed, Kun replies, “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“Ten, go dance so they stop getting attention.”

But Ten's too far sunken in despair to listen to Lisa, settling for a sad, soft hum before he pushes himself off the wall. “This party stinks. I’m going home.”

Kun’s pleas to get him to stay because ‘they haven’t felt all of our wrath yet' falls on deaf ears, as Ten just gives a tiny, subdued wave before walking towards the exit.

With a decisive nod, Soyeon says, “I agree with Ten. You guys are ruining it for yourselves. Stop moping and have some fun, will you? You can win next year.”

She doesn’t get anything in response except some grunts, and with a roll of her eyes, she grabs one of your hands in hers before tugging you off the wall. “C'mon, Y/N. I go back to college in a week, I wanna hang out.”

Powerless to resist, you throw an apologetic look at Kun and Lisa, before allowing Soyeon to drag you away in the same direction that Ten had left, along the wall of the room towards the door on the opposite end of the hall.

Her grip is tight around your hand, as you two skirt along the edge of the crowd, making sure your drinks don’t spill. You look up from the floor your eyes have been glued to for a second, just to see how much farther before you can get some fresh air without worrying about stepping on somebody’s foot, and you catch the eye of none other than Yuta. Like he was waiting for this, as if in slow motion, gaze locked intently and unwaveringly on yours, he brings the trophy up to his face and presses his lips to the plaque.

White, hot rage pulses through you and for a second, you seriously consider letting go of Soyeon's hand, storming over to him, and smacking the cocky smirk right off of his damn face. But you see your girlfriend mouth, “Not worth it,” and you allow yourself to be dragged away, silently fuming.

That night before you fall asleep, you vow that next year, Yuta will regret waltzing into your competition and acting like he’s all that.

                                         ________________________

Year 2, Twelfth Grade

Sticking your hand out, you tug at Ten’s arm the moment he rounds the corner you’ve been waiting at for the last ten minutes or so. With a surprised yelp, he ends up next to you, as you immediately let go of him and adjust your scarf that had gotten displaced. The frigid January air makes you rub your gloved palms together as Ten gives you an affronted look, massaging the inside of his elbow where you had pulled.

“What was that for?” he asks, in a wounded manner.

Wordlessly, with a follow me motion, you turn around, bag swinging behind you as you begin a rapid, determined march, face set, weaving in between the stream of students about to leave at the end of a long school day.

Next to you, you can practically feel Ten's eyes roll as he easily keeps up with you, strolling next to your deliberate, serious walk.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Again, you don’t give him a response, speeding up as you near your destination. He huffs in annoyance.

Drawing up to a closed classroom, you shoo Ten until you’re both crowded against the door, ears pressed to the wood.

He looks at you quizzically, eyebrows scrunched. “Why are you acting weird?”

You shush him as you closely pay attention to what’s going on inside the room, ignoring the weird looks that are being thrown at the two of you from students around.

Muffled, through the door, you can make out the teacher explaining homework, and you manage to jump out of the way just in time, dragging a thoroughly confused Ten along with you, right before the door is pulled in, and the teacher walks out.

“Y/N, this is getting really annoying,” he whines, exasperated, as you grab his elbow and walk into the classroom full of students who are packing up, moving in until you’re directly in front of Kun's bench. His head snaps up to you, his conversation with Sicheng next to him coming to a dead halt as he processes your resolute expression and Ten's half-irritated, half-bemused one.

Once you make sure that you’ve got his attention, you swiftly turn around and stride towards the door. Proving that he’s your favourite member, he simply sighs a little in defeat, before you hear him bid Sicheng goodbye and clap Ten on the shoulder in solidarity.

You hear both their footsteps behind you as you lead them out to the car park. Their loud whispering isn’t exactly subtle.

“Is she fine?”

“I'm not sure, she pretty much just kidnapped me from the corridor a while back.”

“Yikes. Finally hit breaking point, do you think?”

“Fairly certain, yeah. Or maybe this is another one of her weird post-breakup rituals.”

“Oh no, I don’t think I could handle another evening of sitting curb side and screaming at all the black cars we see.”

“Can we just tell her that Soyeon got a new car? Maybe then she’ll let up.”

“Ahem,” you interrupt them, spinning around on your heel once you’ve reached Kun's shiny, grey sedan.

They immediately shut up, waiting for you to explain with expectant looks, not even having the decency to look properly ashamed.

After fixing them with a dark glare, you continue. “We need to go to Bayshore,” you say without preamble.

Kun looks at you like you’ve grown another head. Ten just looks bored.

“Why?” the latter asks.

“And why in my car?” Kun adds.

With a deep sigh, you firmly explicate. “We need to practice. And your car is the only one that can fit all of us.”

“Practice for what?”

“What do you mean all?”

The two of them look at you suspiciously.

“For the Summer Bash, obviously. And I mean the three of us and Lisa and Hendery.

To your great annoyance, the reply you get is Ten lifting his hand to rest the back of it on your forehead. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Kun looks at you, equally worried. “The last time Hendery sat in my car, it took a week for the smell of weed to disappear.”

Now thoroughly irritated, you impatiently swat Ten's hovering hand away from your face. “Look, I know it’s a little sooner than we usually start-"

“Y/N, it’s January. I doubt the organisers have even starting planning it.”

With a glare towards Ten at the interruption, you continue, “-but we have to win.”

It’s like Kun's spirit from last year has taken over you. You’ve spent the last month carefully planning multiple possible set list options, highlighting each member’s strengths and figuring out songs that will capitalise on the same. You’ve got a road map ready and a practice schedule drawn up.

Kun and Ten have rather resigned looks on their faces. Which is fine by you, really. As long as they’ve stopped outright protesting.

You move to the passenger seat and look at Kun with a pointed expression, waiting for him to unlock the car.

“We aren’t getting out of this, are we?”

“Nope,” you cheerily reply, popping the p.

With a long suffering sigh, he moves to the driver’s seat as Ten groans in reluctant acceptance, walking towards the back.

An hour later sees the three of you along with Lisa and Hendery sitting at a corner table in a small, aesthetic coffee shop near Bayshore High, one of those places that has low rise furniture and bean bags and naked, hanging bulbs with edgy posters on the open brick wall.

The other two didn’t put up too much of a fight, being relatively less high-strung. Lisa just gave some weird mixture of an eye roll and a smirk and Hendery outright snorted, but after some strategic glaring on your part, they fell in line quick enough.

There are steaming cups on coffee on the table in front of you, but they lie forgotten in favour of the A3 sized sheet you had stolen from the school art room last month. At the top, you’ve written ‘Summer Bash 2019 - Rosewater! Road Map to Victory'. The rest of the sheet is filled with sub headings and bullet points, all colour coded and properly indented.

Lisa and Ten ooh and aah over the chart, as you smugly take in what you’re sure is your greatest artistic work, but all Kun says is, “Okay, but how come the chemistry notes you lent me look like a four year old wrote them with their non-dominant hand using a leaky ink pen?”

You refuse to deign to reply, pretending to have not heard him as Hendery snorts on your other side.

“This chart is our holy Bible for the next four months,” you say, once everybody’s settled down.

“Aren’t you Hindu?”

Once again, you give no verbal reply to Kun’s nonsense, simply whacking the back of his head and ignoring his whines of protest.

“As I was saying, this is our plan. Clearly, today is meeting one-,“ you indicate the first bullet point, “-and meeting two is this weekend. By the end of this month, we should have a set list.”

Lisa asks in awe, as she pores over the sheet, “How much time did you spend on this?”

Images of you staying up nearly every night with sketch pens spread around you, and working on it under the bench in classes, not to mention in lunch as your friends laughing and chattering rush into your mind. With a self-deprecating wave of your hand, you reply nonchalantly, “Don’t worry about it.”

Ten looks like he’s about to say something when you hear a high, drawling voice from behind you. “Oh, look! It’s Rosewater.”

Somehow, despite the fact that you’ve never actually heard him speak, you know who it is. He sounds exactly like the voice that screams in your head every time you punch your pillow picturing it’s his face.

Lisa and Hendery look happy enough, waving up at him as Yuta rounds the table to stand on the side, but Ten and Kun have identical uncertain expressions on their faces.

And you? All you feel is a flash of annoyance that you immediately tamp down. No need for him to know how riled you are.

In as dignified a manner as you can, you begin to fold the sheet in front of you before Yuta can notice it, but you’re too slow. He crouches down, sarcastic smirk giving way to a genuinely amused grin, as he quickly places his palm flat on the surface of the paper before you can gather it.

His face is inches from yours as he bends over the sheet. “And what’s this? Road map to victory? Surely you aren’t starting practice so soon?”

Kun tries, and fails, to sound threatening as he replies, “So what if we are?”

Yuta’s grin, if possible, only grows wider. You feel yourself frozen on the spot, unable to look away as you watch his head slowly swivel until his eyes meet yours directly.

“It means you feel threatened. Do I threaten you, Y/N? Is that why you’ve made this middle school art project?”

Your throat goes dry at his low voice that’s directed straight at you. With great effort, you let out a scoff that sounds fake even to your ears. Forcing yourself not to look away from him, you bite out with as much venom as you can muster, “You wish, Yuka.”

His smile, much to your chagrin, doesn’t dampen as he lifts his hand off of the sheet and lets you wrench the sheet away.

Infuriatingly blasé, he rises from his squat. Looking down at the table, he says, cocking his head to a side, “Actually, I’m glad you guys are starting so early. It should put us on an equal footing, yeah?”

And with one last condescending wave, he turns around and struts back to whichever shit hole he crawled out of.

You let out a breath you were unaware you were holding and jump in alarm as you hear a growl next to you.

Kun looks murderous, eyes boring holes into the door through which Yuta just disappeared.

“We’re gonna win the fuck out of this bitch.”

                                         ________________________

You’d think you’d be used to the pre-performance combination of anxiety and excitement after so many years of being on stage, but it hits you as hard as ever, festering deep in your bones as you aimlessly fidget around the tiny 24×24 tile that you’re stood on in the corner of the waiting room, careful not to step outside the box.

The sound of participants around you is nothing more than background noise to the stark, white emptiness that’s currently occupying all the space in your head. Lisa's plucking at her strings, the sound muted because her guitar isn’t connected to an amp, and Kun's hitting a nervous, complicated beat with his sticks on the wall. Ten and Hendery are engaged in a highly mindless game of chopsticks to pass the time.

It’s like you have this little vacuum of quiet surrounding you. You can feel the anticipation rolling off of your band in waves. You’ve always been well prepared, but this year, you feel confident enough to take on any professional music group in a one-on-one battle.

After that first meeting, everything went according to plan. There were no more run-ins with Yuta (as a band that is, because Lisa still has two classes with him and he’s one of Hendery's favourite crack buddies), and you’re glad that the rest of Verve all go to a different school because if they came anywhere near yours, you’re sure your and Kun’s blood pressures would’ve hit astronomical levels.

The judges this year are all new, people you’ve never met before with no known connections to any of the participating bands, and this information only serves to boost your confidence.

You hear a hiss next to you, and you zone back in to catch Kun whispering, “They’re here.”

Your gaze goes up until it catches first Jaehyun’s nod, then Taeyong's mock salute and moving to Lucas’s tiny wave before finally settling on the devil incarnate. He stands there, guitar strap around his neck, his eyes swimming with obnoxious mirth, lips upturned in a cocky smirk. You determinedly refuse to look away, but a traitorous voice in your head suggests that maybe the reason you aren’t breaking contact is because you can’t.

You might hate his guts, but there’s no denying his attractiveness. And especially right now, with his ripped, black, skinny jeans and his loose, off-white Ramones t-shirt, he looks like the epitome of edgy punk bassist in his partly silver-dyed hair. There are chains hanging from his neck, and his veined forearms lead to long fingers that are lazily resting on the guitar neck.

He makes no gesture, cold smirk telling all. You return it with a sneer of your own. You’ll leave the gloating for once you’ve won in the next two hours or so.

Rosewater is last in the line up this year, right after Verve, and you hear their performance from the waiting room that’s now empty except for your band. With a jolt of glee, you notice that they have pretty much the same vibe as the previous year going.

Lisa scoffs, apparently thinking the same thing that you are. “How very one-trick pony of them.”

Kun warningly replies, “Let’s not get too cocky.” But if the blaze of confidence in his eyes and the determined set of his shoulders is anything to go by, he’s having a hard time not feeling like you’ve got this in the bag too.

And finally, the last four months of ardent practice come to a glorious zenith as you perform the best, most exciting show of your Summer Bash career, deafening cheers emanating from the crowd as the lot of you play like a single unit. The ending chord, the last drum roll, the final head bang, all give way to spectacular applause and hooting, and you lap it all up, head spinning from the adrenaline rush and the high you always get from standing on stage.

You stand there panting, feeling on top of the world as the rest of your band gathers around you for the signature Rosewater ending bow, and as you’re surveying the crowd with a wide smile that feels like it’s been permanently etched onto your face, you catch sight of Verve near the back of the audience.

Your grin only grows wider as you catch Yuta’s sour look, resembling a spoiled child whose demands haven’t been met, and as you come up from your bow, you drop a deliberate, obnoxious wink in his direction, ensuring that he knows it’s directed at him.

Twenty minutes later, you’re all stood on stage again, Verve standing next to you, waiting for the MC to announce first place. It’s a twisted sense of deja vu, when you’re so sure of a different outcome after experiencing the exact same situation in the past. You know you’ve won before they even announce it. So does the crowd. And so does Yuta, if his narrow eyes and disgruntled expression are anything to go by.

He drops a venomous sneer as Ten and Lisa accept the rolling trophy, but nothing can dampen your spirits in this one moment, your gaze stuck in satisfied awe at the Rosewater! on the plaque and that feeling of elation settling deep in your bones, expanding so large that you just might burst from the perfection of it all.

                                         ________________________

This is the life, you think, as Kun passes the trophy over to you. You’re not one for crowds usually, but when you’re surrounded by people cheering your band name with said band equally excited next to you, in the middle of the flashing lights and the trashy dance music with a glass of green apple vodka in your hand, you think you don’t mind it every once in a while.

Go one year without winning, and suddenly you’re thirsting for this fan adoration like a singer parched.

You triumphantly thrust the trophy up in the air single handed and soak in the renewed loud shrieks, feeling powerful and satiated.

You’re brought out of your reverie by Lisa ducking her head to come to your ear level as she whispers, “Washroom,” and ten minutes later sees you standing outside the lady’s toilet in the quiet, empty corridor, waiting for Lisa to finish up. It was difficult to extricate yourselves from the insistent crowd, but now that you’re here, back leaning on the wall, directly facing the gender neutral toilet that’s in between the lady’s and gent's ones, the silence is a welcome reprieve.

You can still faintly hear the bass thumping through the wall as you indifferently count the number of tiny cracks on the tile you’re stood on, head bowed, enjoying the empty silence and wondering if you should just call it a night and go home.

Hearing a door open in front of you, you’re about to suggest as much, but you stop short as you lift your head and see not Lisa, but Yuta.

The door to the men’s room swings shut behind him as he stands frozen as well, caught as unawares as you are.

You shut your mouth abruptly as Yuta opens his to say something, but he shuts his mouth too, and now the two of you are left gawking at each other stupidly in the middle of a party hall corridor.

Why it’s so awkward, you don’t know. You’ve just beaten him. Wasn’t that the goal for the last four months?

Distantly, you wonder what’s taking Lisa so long.

Before you can make an excuse to escape into the washroom, you hear him mutter something under his breath. If he weren’t looking straight at you, you’d have thought he was talking to himself.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Congratulations,” comes the sullen reply, and you’re so thrown by it that it takes you moment to reply with an unsure ‘Thanks.’

He doesn’t stop there, though. “You guys were incredible.”

His body language is incredibly uncharacteristic, as he fidgets and his dark brown eyes hold none of the usual coldness. There’s no cocky smirk, no challenging stance. It’s almost like he’s being...genuine.

Huh. Who would’ve thought?

You recover yourself, your gaze drawn to the multiple tiny studs he’s wearing on both his ears that you had never really noticed before. “Thank you,” you stiffly repeat, a little distracted by the new discovery.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just giving you a short nod before he turns and walks back towards the party, leaving you to stare at his back, shocked as you catch sight of a hint of black ink peeking out of the sleeve of the t-shirt on his right tricep, clearly visible from this angle.

You have no time to dwell on it as Lisa steps out into the corridor in that moment, drying her palms on her dark blue jeans. “Ready to go back?” she asks, linking your arm with hers as she begins to trace the path that Yuta just took.

Gently disentangling your limb, you slow down to a stop. “Actually, I think I’ll head home,” you say, not meeting her eyes.

She frowns, halting as well. “Okay,” she starts unsurely. “Are you alright? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, yeah, just...it’s been a long day. I think I just need some quiet. I have to finish packing for college anyway.”

Her expression morphs into one of pity and comfort from her previous suspiciously concerned one. Quietly, in a pacifying voice, she says, “It must have been painful to see Soyeon in there, huh? Do you want me to drop you home?”

Glad to have this excuse handed to you on a plate (Truth be told, you never even noticed that your ex had come for the Bash this year, leave alone attended the party. Somehow, nobody seems to believe that you aren’t cut up or brooding about the breakup that happened six months ago, how many ever times you tell them that it just wasn’t working and you both had mutually decided to part ways.), you try to muster as sad a look as possible while replying, “No, no, it’s alright, you go have fun. I’ll book a cab.”

That night, as you lay in bed, sleep eludes you. You’re still elated from the win, body slightly buzzing from the remnants of stage adrenaline and the single glass of alcohol you had consumed. But something else nags at you, something that you’d been avoiding throughout the cab ride and the whole time you changed into your pyjamas. Or rather, somebody.

In the dark, with cool air entering your room from the open crack in the window making your body pleasantly shiver under the blankets, it’s harder to ignore the memory of Yuta's hard, true gaze boring into yours as he congratulates and praises you with no underlying motive. You can’t forget the way his lips curve when they aren’t stuck in that stupid sneer, and your mind seems hell-bent on remembering the images of the silver hoop glinting on his upper ear lobe and the dark, fresh tattoo on his arm. The room suddenly doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

The vicious punches you deliver to your pillow that night in frustration are less with the assumption of the fluffy cotton being Yuta’s face, and more along the lines of your own thoughts, trying to drive them out. Unconvincingly, you chalk it up to tiredness and slight tipsiness, before falling into a restless sleep.

                                     ________________________

Year 3, Freshman Year

“Can you hear me?”

“I swear to God, Kun, if you ask us if we can hear you one more fucking time, we'll kick you out and have this meeting ourselves. We’ve been able to hear you and your cereal chewing for the last five minutes, get on with it.”

Kun swallows a mouthful of said cereal with a reproachful look on his face before softly sulking, “I was just checking.”

Before Ten can blow up again, Hendery pacifies soothingly, “Yes, Kun, we can hear you. Go ahead, what’s the plan?”

You tilt your laptop screen up so you can see everybody’s faces better, eagerly waiting for Kun to start as you take a bite of the granola bar in your hand.

“I don’t have a plan.”

Well, that was anticlimactic.

Lisa chuckles before she says, “Okay, funny. I have dance practice in twenty minutes, though, so why don’t you tell us the real plan.”

Kun just shrugs. “I’m serious, I don’t have a plan.”

Ten moves his head closer to the laptop screen so you’re given a lovely close up of his nose. Suspiciously, he asks, “What do you mean, you don’t have a plan?”

“I mean I don’t have a plan. I don’t see how we can possibly practice over a video call. The lag is horrible and Y/N’s frozen half the time.”

Hendery mildly says, “That’s just her resting face.”

Flipping him off, accurate as he is, you swallow your granola before you ask, “Lisa and Ten, you guys are sure you won’t be able to make it home for spring break?”

They both shake their heads.

It’s that time of the year again, mid-February, Summer Bash practice time, but there’s a new challenge to work around. The fact that you’re all miles away from each other in different colleges, and you haven’t been able to have a single jam session in the last seven months because everybody’s schedule never seems to line up. It went without saying that Rosewater would participate this year, but none of you had anticipated how difficult it would be to coordinate practices.

Kun continues. “The only option we have is those two weeks between the beginning of summer vacation and the actual competition. It isn’t much, but it’ll have to do.”

Hendery mumbles something and you think it’s just his mic acting up again, but on prompting, his grainy voice comes a little stronger but still sheepish. “One week.”

You stop mid-chew. Kun and Lisa stare at him with wide eyes, and Ten’s eyebrows are furrowed.

“What was that?” you ask. Your mouth is still full, but your message gets across clear enough.

He gives a little sigh. “I need to stay back in college for an extra week to discuss my internship, I won’t be back home until the 17th.”

Kun sinks back in his chair in disbelief as Lisa lets her forehead fall on the table with a dull thunk.

“We’re so fucked,” Ten whispers.

But a thought occurs to you and urgently, you ask, “But what about Verve? Does anybody know if they’ve been practicing?”

Moodily, Kun replies, “They were all home for Christmas, they must have practiced. And I met Taeyong at the dinner hall a couple of weeks back, he said he’s, and I quote, super excited to get with the guys and jam during spring break.”

All hope extinguished, you glumly fold your empty granola bar wrapper.

“At least with Kun and Taeyong in the same college, we have a little bit of inside information,” Lisa says, but her voice carries none of her usual cheerful optimism.

For a moment, it seems like the remaining ten minutes of the call are going to go in a similar vein, morose grumbling as you all let yourself wallow in self-pity and annoyance about things out of your control, but you’re brought out of your depressed rumination by Ten, who utters in the same tone of voice, “Y/N should just drive down to the UC's and get more information from Yuta. Or break his hand so he can’t play.”

Immediately, your fingers still on the wrapper you were fidgeting with. The others take it as the joke it was meant to be and pay no mind, except for an approving grunt from Kun, but your head goes into overdrive.

You haven’t met Yuta since that night, but you find yourself thinking about him more than you’d like. You’re not obsessed or anything, but your brain occasionally startles you with images of him guitaring whenever you listen to certain songs and you catch yourself thinking about how well he’d play the bassline. Or when you see somebody walking around with a tattoo you’re curious about and realise with a bolt of shock that you want to know what Yuta’s means. Or when you got your upper lobes pierced and you were fiercely, vividly reminded of his.

It’s manageable most of the time. You’re constantly remembering little things about your friends, and he’s just a really great bassist that happened to make an impression on you. But sometimes, it’s harder to make these excuses, like when you’re drunk at a party and making out with the person who sits next to you in calculus and you find yourself vaguely wondering what making out with Yuta would be like. Or when you hear your roommate talking to her boyfriend who goes to the same college as Yuta does, and you desperately, greedily want to know if they’ve met each other, just for some information, some semblance of a personal contact, however convoluted.

But also, you’re great at avoidance and compartmentalisation, so you manage to it just be like that sometimes your way through these more dangerous thoughts.

The call goes on, gloom and acceptance settling heavy in all your bones, until Lisa has to leave for her practice, and your roommate comes back and nags at you to turn off your laptop because the screen is too bright.

When you all left for different colleges, it seemed to go without saying that you’d participate in every Bash that you possibly could. Now, you’re left wondering if that was a conversation that Rosewater should have had.

                                        ________________________

In the last seven years of your life, you’re fairly sure that this is the most embarrassed you’ve ever felt. The night breeze ruffles your dyed hair as you lean on the open balcony railing. From somewhere in the building, you can still faintly hear the sounds of the after party raging.

The rest of Rosewater has left and you’re not sure what you’re still doing here. By all means, you should be sleeping in bed, or completing your summer classes, or pretty much doing anything else but this. But an hour after the most disastrous performance of your band’s career, you’re six feet under your thoughts and feelings on an empty balcony, wondering how you hadn't seen this coming.

The beer can that you had snuck out of the party remains three quarters full and abandoned, precariously perched on the railing next to your elbow. It’s an oddly cool and windy night for the peak of summer, but you relish the feeling on your super heated skin, still slightly flushed in mortification.

Memories of a broken high hat, an excessively distorted electric solo on a malfunctioning amp, and a fucking voice crack play on loop in your brain and there’s nothing you can do to stop them. Unseeing, you face the city in front of you, unable to forget the shocked but polite applause Rosewater had received at the end of the performance, the dismissive, pursed lips of the judges and the sound of the MC announcing, “And in sixth place, we have last year’s champions, Rosewater!”

Seven bands had participated.

You hear the door creak open behind you and you whip around, already formulating an excuse about why you’re two floors up from the party and standing alone on a dark balcony, but coherent thought stops when you see who it is.

Yuta had done his whole I'm better than you act before the concert, making your blood boil despite the fact that you were sure they were going to beat you. A week of practice is not nearly enough. But once you had finished performing as the last band to go up on stage, all you got was a blank, confused stare which had morphed into pity as your eyes met his across the stage as you all waited for the results. And that’s just the icing on the cake, isn’t it? Being pitied by your fucking nemesis slash the person you sometimes think about kissing but only out of curiosity.

You didn’t watch their performance, too embarrassed to stay after your show, but it’s a small blessing that Verve placed second and not first. Not heartening enough to pull you out of your funk, but better than the scenario where they win.

You’re too tired and depressed to start a verbal sparring match and you tell him as much, letting out a little sigh at the end as you turn around to face the railing once again, expecting him to leave.

“Who said I came to fight?”

You hear him walk further into the balcony, leaning next to you, elbow nearly brushing against yours, as you force yourself to seem nonchalant and ask with a cocked eyebrow. “Did you not?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead picking up the beer can and giving you a questioning look. You wave your hand in permission and he lifts it to his lips, taking a large gulp. With difficulty, you tear your eyes away from his exposed neck, tilted upwards.

“Okay, maybe I did come to gloat.”

“Go ahead, then. Tell me about how much we sucked.” At this point, you’ve beaten yourself up enough that you’re sure nothing he says will seriously affect you.

“It wasn’t that awful.”

You fix him with a steely glare, snatching the can from his grip.

He gives up the act as he drops his shoulders and nods, amending, “Okay, fine, it was pretty pathetic. I honestly thought you guys would come last.”

It feels calming somehow, to hear those words. Everybody’s been tiptoeing around you since the competition, refusing to say the truth, and it feels right and solid to listen to a no-nonsense statement like that.

You hum in acquiescence as you have a sip of the bitter beer, wordlessly passing it to him when you finish. And so it goes, the two of you taking turns quietly drinking until the can is empty, after which he drops it into the tiny dustbin in the corner.

You’re not sure how you feel so calm, especially after noticing his very evident tattoo in his short sleeved t-shirt, something written in Japanese, and the fact that he’s got a new helix piercing, but you’ve hit a state of being where your head just keeps repeating, ‘How can things possibly get worse after a shit day like this one?’, so you’re feeling simultaneously reckless and exhausted.

He comes back and stands next to you, resuming his previous position. On impulse, you ask, “So what did you come here for, if not to gloat and drawl and strut your second place about?”

He snorts at your wording and splutters indignantly, “I don’t strut.”

“Oh, you most certainly do. Like you own the bloody place.”

With narrowed eyes, he demands, “Well, what about you, then?”

“What about me?” you coolly ask.

“Not exactly angelic, are you? With all your cocky winking and smirking. Makes me want to tear my fucking hair out.”

You feel a perverse sense of glee, that you manage to get a reaction this intense, and with a smile of benevolent cheer, you shortly nod your head in thanks in his direction.

He chuckles and just like that, the two of you settle into silence again, with you feeling lighter than you did a couple of minutes back.

You’re looking out onto the city and the lights twinkling in the dark, when you notice shifting in your periphery and see that Yuta's turned around now, back to the railing as he leans languidly on it, elbows resting over the edge. His gaze is fixed on yours and when you meet his eyes, he doesn’t look away, expression serious.

Unable to break eye contact, you stare, transfixed, as he starts, “I've been thinking-"

“Yuta! There you are!”

Both of your gazes dart to the doorway comically fast to see Lucas barely holding himself up, eyes slightly red, obviously drunk.

Rushing to him before he can fall, Yuta grabs his arm, tugging it over his shoulder, propping the man up.

Lucas seems to catch sight of you for the first time and he exclaims, slurring, “Y/N!”

You lift your hand in an amused wave, mind still slightly reeling from Yuta’s proximity.  

“You guys were shit!” he continues in the same, excited voice, and the tiredness hits you like a truck all over again. You instantly want nothing more than to go to bed.

“Thanks,” you reply dryly, as Yuta apologetically winces.

He shrugs in helplessness, as Lucas continues to ramble about ‘that note you didn’t hit, dude, I was so ready to get hyped', before he hoists his arm up higher on his shoulder.

Clapping a hand over Lucas’s mouth, effectively reducing the volume of his drunken mumbles, he unsurely says, “I should, uh, probably get him home.”

Suddenly feeling stiff again, you nod in agreement. “Yeah, probably.”

“So I’ll see you around?”

“Sure, cool.”

And just like that, he’s hobbling away with Lucas hanging onto him, leaving you wondering exactly what the fuck just happened.

                                           ________________________

Year 4, Sophomore Year

Your vast prior experience and success in the competition will be a valuable asset and we would love to have you on the judging panel this year. Please let us know if you will be available and willing for the same on or before the 23rd of January via return email.

You read and reread the last few sentences on the screen in front of you, not quite registering them. Taking off your glasses, you wipe them with the bottom of your t-shirt and put them back on, squinting at the email. Like a cruel joke, your phone is lying face up next to your laptop, the Rosewater group open with a message from Hendery that’s been read by everybody but without a single reply.

Are we doing it this year?

23rd of January. That gives you roughly two weeks to figure out what you’re going to do.

Your phone vibrates and you look away from the blinking cursor on the white reply screen on your laptop to see that Ten's responded.

Do we really want to?

Lisa starts typing, then stops. It’s radio silence from Kun's end too, but you can see that he’s online and reading the messages.

You picture them in their dorms and apartments, sitting like you on their messy beds, phone in their hand as they anxiously look at the screen, waiting for somebody else to say what they’re too scared to type.

You wonder if any of them got an invite to judge the competition as well, but it’s incredibly rare that more than one person from a band is on the panel. The last time it happened was when Rosewater was in eighth grade and two members from SHINee were judging. But you know that no band since, including yours, has reached their level of talent and expertise.

The tea begins to bubble on the stove and you lift the laptop off of your lap and place it on the bed, moving to the kitchenette in your tiny, rented, one bedroom apartment, phone in hand.

Setting it down on the counter, you pour your tea into a cup through a strainer, trying to think of something to say, something that might make the decision easier.

Two-fifths of the band wasn’t in town during Christmas, the other three won’t be able to make it in spring break, and the memory of last year’s disaster still plagues you.

You take a sip, thumb undecidedly hovering over the keypad for a few minutes, before you lock your phone, unable to come up with anything concrete.

The opportunity to judge the bands is an incredible honour, and one you’ve wanted for a long time. Of course, nothing compares to being on stage, but the thought of getting the validation, the respect and the chance to watch bands like yours perform and decide which one is the best gives you a rush of simultaneous pride, power and gratification.

And with things apparently going the same way, you’d rather not have a repeat of last year’s fiasco.

Mind made up, you place your empty cup in the sink and move to the bed, taking a picture of the email from the organisers and sending it to the still-silent Rosewater group. Then, in true Y/N, Empress of Avoidance fashion, you switch off your phone completely before anybody can reply.

You stare at your laptop screen and it stares right back at you, as if it’s goading you to do something reckless like reply in the affirmative immediately like you so, so dearly want to. But your members' betrayed faces swim to the forefront of your mind and you shut it before you can give in to the urge.

At the top of your laptop, next to the tiny GitHub sticker in the corner, you’ve stuck a post it note with your to-do list.

Unbidden, as they seem to do so often these days, your eyes run through the first five academic items before settling on the last one.

stop thinking about him

There’s no question as to whom it’s referring to. Unlike the other points on the list that all have messy, satisfied pen scratches over them signifying that they’re complete, this last one has half-hearted, incomplete lines drawn partway through the sentence before they stop abruptly.

You had made that list four months ago before starting to stick the subsequent notes on your mini-fridge instead, but you can’t peel it off of your laptop until you tick off, or rather scratch off, every point.

The remainder of the holidays post the competition the previous year was agonising enough, knowing that that catastrophic show wasn’t going to leave you alone anytime soon, but the days seemed to get more stressful as you had to combat all those new, uncomfortable thoughts about him, which suddenly grew so much more intense after that night you two had spent on the balcony.

All at once, you were seeing him in every book you read, hearing him in every bass line you heard. Heck, you almost got a heart attack when you saw that somebody in your coding summer course had a name that started with ‘Y'. He wouldn’t leave you alone, ending up at the airport the same time as you for his flight back to college. You had ducked behind a large group of tourists to avoid him, but the deafeningly loud thumping of your heart and the whoosh of your blood pounding in your ears made you feel so exposed. His black jeans and large, comfortable sweater paired with dark, full-rim glasses that you had never seen him wear before, with his jaw length, then bright red, hair tied in a small, messy ponytail, strands falling out in the front, had made you want to fling everything down on the floor like a petulant child and whine at the universe for making things so difficult for you.

You had hoped that things would be easier once you got busy with college, but despite the immense workload that you miraculously were on top of, he still managed to sneak into your thoughts, making you jump and scurry away every time you caught sight of the mural near your apartment that had a bunch of instruments painted on it, eyes automatically drawn to the bass. Or when you and your friend went to get your first tattoo, it was all you could do to not let out a startled yelp as you were going through the designs in the book, catching sight of the very same Japanese characters that wouldn’t leave your head.

Adding that last point to the list was a necessity.

Absently, you wonder if anybody from Verve has got the invite to judge, and then with a heady thrill that leaves you positively reeling, you’re hit with the possibility of being able to sit right in front of the stage, with a perfect view and an even more perfect excuse to watch Yuta play, openly observing, greedily drinking in the way he works his instrument and the audience, under the equally intoxicating guise of judging and scoring him.

Feeling like the villain in your own story, you selfishly hope that the rest of Rosewater won’t want to play this year.

                                      ________________________

“Alright, Y/N?”

“Peachy,” you reply with a thumbs-up as you tug the lanyard over your neck. Soyeon gives you a cheery grin in answer to your own unasked enquiry in return.

When you had entered the venue, later than you usually do since you don’t have to go through sound check or finding out the performing order, you didn’t expect to see her standing near the judge’s table, next to the same high school teacher who had been on the panel three years prior (a Mr. Smith, you have been informed). But it didn’t throw you too much. In fact, it’s a bit calming, having somebody you know so well next to you, even if it’s someone with whom conversation has been restricted to ‘Happy birthday!’ for the last two years.

Especially after Hendery had insisted on going on about how intimidating all the other judges were going to be on the way over, nonchalantly taking his hands off the vehicle periodically while driving to wave them around in exaggeration, making you jerk sideways to catch the steering wheel while screaming bloody murder so you didn’t end up in a ditch before reaching the ripe, old age of 22.

The rest of Rosewater were all very excited on hearing about your judging invite, partly because they knew how much you wanted it, but mostly because it provided the band with a convenient excuse that they really, really needed to not participate without bringing up the trauma of the previous year. 

You catch sight of them idly loafing around in the audience enclosure to your right, waiting for the competition to start. You don’t know what’s weirder, the fact that you aren’t with them, or the fact that none of you are in the waiting room for the first time in seven years.

The organiser who had handed you the ID cards that had your names and JUDGE written on them asks, “You guys wanna talk to the participants? They go on in roughly twenty minutes, might be a good idea to ease their nerves a bit.”

Oh no.

Ever since Kun had mentioned that Verve would, in fact, be participating this year, this was the moment you’d been simultaneously dreading and eagerly anticipating. But not so soon.

Unable to come up with a convincing excuse about why this is a very, very bad idea, you mutely nod along with the other two judges and follow the woman who leads all of you backstage to the waiting room that you know like the back of your hand.

You have to stop yourself from feverishly scanning the room for a sight of him, eager to see what colour his hair is now, whether he’s got any new piercings or tattoos in the last year, if he’s looking at you with the same, soft, genuine expression that you last saw him sporting on that balcony.

Morphing your features into an encouraging smile as Soyeon gives a tiny, heartening speech next to you, you let your eyes rove over the participants, nodding in cheerful acknowledgement at the ones you’ve competed against before but really on the lookout for just one, specific band.

You spot Jaehyun first. He gives you a wave and you return it, stomach tightening uncomfortably in a guilty sort of glee now that you know that any second, you’re going to be seeing Yuta for the first time in a year in person and not in your memories or imagination. Taeyong does his signature salute and you incline your head cordially to him and Lucas before your eyes land on him.

They’re standing at the corner, and through a tiny gap in between the crowded bodies, you ravenously scan him, toe to head. From his black sneakers to his tight, dark washed jeans with holes at the knees giving you a peek into his skin that feels gloriously forbidden, up to his plain, black t-shirt, short sleeves folded up even further so the ink is visible. Eagerly, unable to stop your eyes from roaming, you look at his ears, noticing with a jolt that there are new snug studs on both sides, before you stop short at his chin length, lavender ombre platinum blond hair.

Your gaze slides down to his face and your stomach gives an annoying swoop when you see him boring holes into your eyes. He looks cocky, smug at having caught you very obviously eye-fucking him, but there’s also something else in his expression, a twinkle that’s kind and amused.

You hear a polite cough next to you and you’re drawn out of your staring competition feeling like you’ve been pulled out of a lake after nearly drowning. Soyeon and Mr. Smith look at you expectantly. The organiser gently prompts, “And most of you probably know her, but for those who don’t, this is Y/N from Rosewater. Her band's participated in and won the Summer Bash multiple times.”

She trails off, looking at you anticipatorily. You suddenly become very aware of the rest of the room staring at you with wide eyes, obviously waiting for you to do something.

Shaking your head slightly, you softly clear your throat before saying in as ebullient a voice as you can muster when it feels like you haven’t had a sip of water in days, “Good luck, guys! Have fun on stage. May the best band win!”

No namby-pamby, wishy-washy ‘It isn’t a competition, it’s a concert!' nonsense from you.

Cheers and applause follow and you all turn around to leave. You catch Yuta’s eye and see that he’s looking at you with an entertained grin, obviously pleased at having distracted you to such an extent, and you actively have to fight the blush that’s threatening to take over your face, a dry voice in your head cursing at you for acting like a dithering fool.

You’re all guided to the table in front of the main stage that has three clipboards with sheets containing the list of the participating bands, along with pens on the side. With a little wave at the growing, eager crowd and a special grin towards the rest of Rosewater who are all gathered near the front and giving you excited cheers, you take your seat in between the other two judges as indicated by the organiser.

You force your heart to calm down, the sight of your band aiding in the process as you read the names on the list in front of you that ends with 13.Verve.

As the PAR lights are flicked on and the audience becomes louder, Soyeon ducks her head towards you and asks with an insufferable, knowing grin, “What was that about?”

Playing dumb, refusing to look at her lest she can tell from your eyes that your heart’s just picked up pace again, you reply, “What was what about?”

“I might not have seen you in person for two years, but I remember what you look like when you’re trying to hold in a blush.”

You’ve never really regretted your relationship with Soyeon, but you’re mighty close to doing it now.

Sniffing, you say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She chuckles amusedly. Good to know she’s entertained. “It's the Verve bassist, isn’t it? You definitely have a type.”

Kicking her under the table only begets more laughter, but you hate how called out you feel by that statement. So what if Soyeon's a bassist as well?

Further conversation is halted as the MC announces the beginning of the competition, and the next hour you spend jotting down marks and sometimes, random doodles when a particularly boring band comes along, guiltily grinning when Mr. Smith notices and gives you a scandalised glare.

It truly is something else, watching from the frontlines as other groups perform on stage, and you wonder exactly how the judges sit here, with screeching crowds right behind them and bright lights hitting from the front. However, you’re quite enjoying the experience of watching and deliberating scores, not really keeping track of which number is on stage, and you’re thrown for a loop when the MC announces, “And now, it’s time for our last band of the night, Verve!”

You resolutely look forward, practically feeling the cheeky grin that Soyeon throws at you, even though you would very much like to return it with a bonk over her head. But your gaze is trained on the amp that’s there near the front of the stage, too scared to look up.

You know that the moment you see Yuta in all his glory on stage, you might as well rip up the post it into a hundred pieces because you’re never going to be able to scratch out that last item.

But the pull is too great, the bass too deep for you to not look, and despite your greatest misgivings, you shift your eyes up just when Taeyong hits the snare with an almighty rim shot and the scoop lights suddenly turn on with the beat, illuminating the members on stage in a frenetic glow.

It’s like it’s all happening in slow motion. You can’t remember why you didn’t want to see a sight this wonderful, with all the members very clearly feeling themselves on stage. It’s quite easy to see their appeal when you aren’t competing against them, you realise. You can barely bear to tear your eyes away from Taeyong having the time of his life behind the drum kit but with bated breath, you move to look at Yuta, and suddenly you feel like oxygen is in very short supply at the moment.

No smugness, no kindness, just pure, unadulterated joy radiates from his very being, beautiful, wide smile that you’ve never had the absolute honour of seeing before etched on his face and head bobbing blithely, as he switches between looking down at his guitar and straight up at the audience. You’re hit by a rush of regret as you wonder just why you never bothered to watch their shows like this, as a part of the crowd, and not just through tiny peeks from backstage or refusing to look at all from the waiting room.

You’ll freely admit to yourself, that in this one moment, you don’t want to look away. And then, like a flash, he looks straight at you, buoyant smile still plastered on his face, before giving you a slow and quite deliberate wink, right in the middle of a solo.

If you were expecting to feel angry, going by past experiences with his winks, you’re in for a mighty surprise. Breathlessly, you remember a voice screaming, “Marry me, Yuta!” and you think that maybe that audience member from four years ago had the right idea.

It feels like it’s over before it ever began as they walk off stage to raucous applause, with you, Soyeon and Mr. Smith giving standing ovations. In the middle of it all, Soyeon ducks towards you once again to be heard and says while clapping, “Good choice.”

You can’t even be mad at her. Your heart feels like it’s being held together by that last, deep note and it comes as no surprise that on the sheet in front of you, the maximum score is in the column next to 13.Verve.

Ten minutes later sees the three of you on stage next to the MC, Soyeon holding the trophy that’s waiting to be handed over to the winner that’s yet to be announced. Not that it’s a surprise to anybody. You feel a strong sense of pride as you see Rosewater! written on the plaque multiple times, and suddenly feeling very grateful for your band, you look out into the crowd, giving a wide grin to Lisa, Kun, Ten and Hendery who are all beaming back at you, clearly similarly effected by the last performance.

One by one, the groups exit the stage to polite applause, until you hear the MC announcing, “And for the second time, our first place champions are Verve!”

You definitely aren’t expecting it when Soyeon shoves the trophy into your hands with a shit-eating grin, but in front of the hooting audience and the quickly advancing winners, you have no choice but to accept it before turning to Yuta who’s still sweaty from the performance, your fingers tightly clasped around the neck to prevent them from shaking.

His hands brush against yours as he’s accepting the trophy, and there’s a flash of a grin from him that’s dangerously toeing the line between gratitude and flirtation. Feeling light-headed at the contact and the half-smirk, you give a flustered bow before stepping back and allowing the other judges to congratulate the band, hoping nobody around you or from the audience can hear your heart veritably whomping in your chest.

                                          ________________________

“Didn’t expect you to be the running away type.”

The high drawl comes from directly behind you, right as you’re climbing into the back seat of the cab, and you freeze on spot, one leg inside the vehicle and one leg out.

Flashback to twenty minutes ago, after you had scurried off stage with your face burning, refusing to make any more contact with Yuta. Soyeon had not been able to stop giggling, even when the two of you were politely bidding Mr. Smith goodbye. You tried to no avail to stop blushing, but the more Soyeon poked and teased you, the redder you became until you felt like your entire body was on fire.

You had severely regretted the decision to walk with her to the car park and see her off, because she had spent the entire time asking you when you were going ask him out, under the guise of ‘We should totally catch up, it’s been so long.’

As you had watched her drive away, you felt entirely different kind of butterflies in your stomach, ones born from anxiety and worry about actually dating somebody you like, and pleading a headache to a fairly disappointed Rosewater, you had booked a cab home to avoid going to the after party and possibly coming face to face with Yuta.

Obviously, your master plan hadn’t worked.

Cut to the present, and you know there’s no escape, now that he’s seen you trying to leave. Exhaling deeply, you slowly turn around to watch him standing about twelve feet away, looking at you with his head cocked to the side, challenging look in his eyes and a single brow lifted in gentle surprise.

He’s slightly panting, like he ran from the party to find you, and you refuse to let the tiny balloon of hope in your chest grow any larger, popping it immediately as you reply, “I’m not running away from anything.”

He scoffs, clearly disbelieving, and takes a few steps closer, obviously intent on discussing this, until he’s around nine feet away.

“Are you going to pretend you don’t feel anything?”

It gives you a shock, hearing the words you’ve spent so long trying to deny to yourself, and you immediately lash out, irritation coursing through you, with the full objective of putting him on the spot like he’s just done to you. 

“I’m not pretending anything,” you spit out. “Just because your big, fat ego can’t bear the thought of somebody not liking you-"

“I like you, though.”

“-doesn’t mean the world has to revolve around-what now?”

He looks at you, any and all traces of smugness removed from his face. He’s wearing the same expression that he had that night on the balcony, when he was about to say something before being interrupted by Lucas, and it’s open and frank, no deceit or cunning in sight.

You’re left gaping at him, trying to remember what words are, attempting to get your brain to catch up with your rapidly beating heart as he slowly steps closer and closer until there are roughly five tiny feet between your bodies.

“I like you,” he repeats simply, although there’s a trace of something like nervousness in his voice now. “And if I’m not mistaken, you like me too. But if I am, say the word and I’ll leave right now and let you get home to nurse that fake headache of yours.”

Fucking Kun.

You’re saved the bother of answering him immediately by the Uber driver who rolls down his window and gruffly shouts, “I've got another ride, do you think you could speed it up, maybe? Or can I cancel your booking?”

You jump in alarm, having completely forgotten about the cab waiting for you. You look at Yuta, feeling like your heart has crawled up to your throat as you scan his face for some sign of amusement, for a signal that this is all one big joke. But then you remember the winking and the flirting and the sharing of a beer can on a dark, abandoned balcony after he had comforted you when he didn’t really have to, and you find nothing but genuineness in his candid gaze.

He waits patiently for you to make a decision, although you notice him subtly shifting his weight from foot to foot, probably toning down his fidgeting so as to not startle you too much.

Without allowing yourself to think too much about it, you turn around to the driver and say, “You can cancel the booking. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

He gives you a dirty look as you shut the still open back door, grumbling to himself, but you can’t pay attention to it, too distracted by the wide grin that’s slowly spreading over Yuta’s face.

He takes another step closer, and now the two of you are barely three feet apart. This close, you can see the tiny dimple on his right cheek, the sparkle in his eyes and the white, gleaming rows of teeth, his smile making you feel like you’re drowning but in the good way. You can count the number of earrings he’s wearing on each ear (four), and you feel an intense desire to reach out and tuck the wispy, escaped strands of his chin-length hair back into the small ponytail.

“So I wasn’t mistaken, then?” he asks, confirming what the both of you know, but what you’ve been too wimpy to say out loud.

“No, you weren’t,” you softly reply, unable to stop the embarrassment from your previous outburst from consuming you.

Taking a deep breath, you’re the one who steps forward this time. He startles but stays his ground, probably surprised that you’ve taken the initiative.

You have to tilt your head up to look at his face now and you do, as his neck bends down as well so he can make eye contact.

Shakily, you lift a slightly trembling hand, overly aware of his calm but pleased gaze, and gently tuck his soft hair behind his left ear, fingers grazing his helix stud in the process.

It’s like that one touch released a tightly wound spring in both of you, and suddenly, you’re both rushing forward, lips meeting in a firm kiss as his hands come up to cradle your face and yours loosely wind around his waist, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat of his body through his t-shirt.

You feel him grin against your lips and you can’t stop yourself from doing the same, feeling like an anchor that’s been tugging at your body has finally been pulled up.

Pulling away, with no real bite in his voice, he softly teases, “For somebody who looks so cool on stage, you sure are a worry wart, huh?”

“Shut up,” you petulantly whine, blush having returned in full force as he chuckles, amused at your reaction. You’d be more annoyed, but from this angle, you can see the flush on his neck and it eases you, knowing that he’s just as effected as you are.

From somewhere nearby, you can hear the beginnings of the party, bass boosted music reaching your earshot, and with a light grin, Yuta takes your hand in his, cocking his head towards the sound.

“Want to go listen to people talk about how great your performance was?”

Entangling your willing fingers in his, with a cheeky smirk that really shouldn’t be that attractive, he replies, “Always.”

~                                  

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[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

Behind The Album: OK Computer

The third studio album from Radiohead was released in May 1997 by Parlophone Records. This would mark the first album that Nigel Godrich worked on as their producer. The band would self produce the entire album themselves, which they have done on every record since. In 1995, Brian Eno asked the band to contribute a song to a charity compilation for War Child entitled Help. They were scheduled to do the recording in only a day, which led to the track, “Lucky.” Godrich would say of the recording. “Those things are the most inspiring, when you do stuff really fast and there's nothing to lose. We left feeling fairly euphoric. So after establishing a bit of a rapport work-wise, I was sort of hoping I would be involved with the next album." This track would form the foundation of what would become OK Computer. In early 1996, the group took a break from touring because they found it a bit too stressful. Thoughts now turned to a new record with the mindset of distancing themselves from anything similar to The Bends. Drummer Phillip Selway would say, “There was an awful lot of soul-searching [on The Bends]. To do that again on another album would be excruciatingly boring.” The label gave the band a rather good sized budget for recording equipment for the new release. A number of producers were considered for the album, but they kept coming back to Godrich as an advisor on equipment. Eventually, the band hired him as the producer. Ed O’Brien said of the album, “Everyone said, 'You'll sell six or seven million if you bring out The Bends Pt 2,' and we're like, 'We'll kick against that and do the opposite'."

In early 1996, Radiohead began proper recording of the LP at Canned Applause Studios in Oxfordshire, England. Issues immediately came up as the band had difficulty staying focused on one song all the way to completion. Selway would talk about this later, “We're jumping from song to song, and when we started to run out of ideas, we'd move on to a new song ... The stupid thing was that we were nearly finished when we'd move on, because so much work had gone into them." Although the members of the group were considered equals, the voice of Thom Yorke always represented the loudest one in terms of musical direction. Godrich would talk about his role within the group in an interview. They “need to have another person outside their unit, especially when they're all playing together, to say when the take goes well ... I take up slack when people aren't taking responsibility—the term producing a record means taking responsibility for the record ... It's my job to ensure that they get the ideas across." His permanent role on each Radiohead album would lead to the producer being called the sixth member of Radiohead. After only recording four songs, the band left the Canned Applause Studio for a variety of reasons Including the fact that the studio had no bathrooms or dining rooms. They decided to take a break from recording in order to support Alanis Morissette on tour, which gave them a chance to try some of their new tracks live. Around the same time, Director Baz Luhrmann asked the band to contribute a song to his film, Romeo and Juliet. “Exit Music for a Film” would be played as the credits rolled during the movie, but they did not give Luhrmann permission to place the track on the movie soundtrack. Yorke would later observe that this song became very important to the album. It “was the first performance we'd ever recorded where every note of it made my head spin—something I was proud of, something I could turn up really, really loud and not wince at any moment."

In September 1996, the band began recording again at a mansion in Bath, England owned by actress Jane Seymour. Jonny Greenwood would say the environment represented a much more pleasant change for the group. It “was less like a laboratory experiment, which is what being in a studio is usually like, and more about a group of people making their first record together." One quality that the band enjoyed during the sessions came in the fact that they took full advantage of the natural environment of the mansion. “Exit Music for a Film” utilized some natural reverb courtesy of a stone stairwell. They recorded Let Down” in an empty ballroom at 3 o’clock in the morning. The group worked at its own pace as Ed O’Brien observed later. “The biggest pressure was actually completing [the recording]. We weren't given any deadlines and we had complete freedom to do what we wanted. We were delaying it because we were a bit frightened of actually finishing stuff." A majority of the album would be recorded live with no overdubs because Yorke hated them. The band completed the rest of the album at the studio in Saint Catherine’s towards the end of 1996. In January 1997, the strings for the album were recorded, then they spent the next two months mastering and mixing the album. Actually, the mixing of the album only took a couple of days. Nigel Godrich would later comment, “I feel like I get too into it. I start fiddling with things and I fuck it up ... I generally take about half a day to do a mix. If it's any longer than that, you lose it. The hardest thing is trying to stay fresh, to stay objective."

Several artists would influence what would become the finished product of OK Computer. First and foremost came the 1970 album Bitches Brew by jazz great, Miles Davis. Thom Yorke would tell Q what he saw in that recording that made up his vision for this album. “It was building something up and watching it fall apart, that's the beauty of it. It was at the core of what we were trying to do with OK Computer." Other artists that helped to inspire the record included Elvis Costello, REM, PJ Harvey, the Beatles, Can, and composer Ennio Morricone. Jonny Greenwood would describe OK Computer as an attempt to recreate the sound on all these great records, but they missed the mark. The band would expand their instrumentation for this album to include electric piano, Mellotron, cello and other strings, glockenspiel and electronic effects. Spin would say this about the release, “A DIY electronica album made with guitars." The lyrics to the album focused on themes much more conceptual when contrasted with The Bends. Yorke would sing about a wide variety of topics including transportation, technology, insanity, death, globalism, capitalism, and more. The singer would say, “On this album, the outside world became all there was ... I'm just taking Polaroids of things around me moving too fast." He also took inspiration for some of the lyrics from a selection of books including Noam Chomsky, Eric Hobsbawm's The Age of Extremes, Will Hutton's The State We're In, Jonathan Coe's What a Carve Up! and Philip K. Dick's VALIS. Despite the abstract nature of the lyrics on the record, many critics have looked upon OK Computer as a concept album. They argue that there exists a singular theme running throughout the record, but the band has consistently denied any attempt at making such a release. Jonny Greenwood commented, “I think one album title and one computer voice do not make a concept album. That's a bit of a red herring." They did pay particularly close attention to the order of the tracklist taking almost two weeks to complete it.

The album opens with “Airbag,” which highlights the drumming of Phillip Selway. The track had been inspired by the work of DJ Shadow. The band would later admit that they represented novices in this attempt to base a song on DJ Shadow due to their lack of time with programming. Yorke had actually read an article in a magazine entitled “An Airbag Saved My Life.” Another book that helped to create the basis for the song lyrics emerged in the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Yorke had always been obsessed with the idea that any time you get into a car you could possibly die at any second. The second track “Paranoid Android” stands out as one of the longest tracks in the band's entire catalog. Two songs inspired it from classic rock, “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” by the Beatles and “Bohemian Rhapsody” by Queen. The lyrics are meant to reference the alien from Douglas Adams’s A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Yorke got the idea after watching a woman lose her mind after a drink spilled on her at a bar in Los Angeles. “Subterranean Homesick Alien” referenced “Subterranean Homesick Blues” by Bob Dylan. The lyrics are meant to refer a person who is abducted by aliens, then returns home to realize his life is in no way any different. The beginnings of the theme for this track actually began for the singer in private school when he had an assignment to recreate a British literary movement called Martian poetry. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare inspired the lyrics to “Exit Music for a Film.” This should come as no surprise as the band had specifically created the song for a remake film. Yorke would use it as a chance to simply recap the entire narrative in the song because Zeffirelli’s version of the film greatly affected him at the age of 13. “I cried my eyes out, because I couldn't understand why, the morning after they shagged, they didn't just run away. It's a song for two people who should run away before all the bad stuff starts.” The singer had tried to replicate Johnny Cash’s Live at Folsom Prison as he sang along to his acoustic guitar. “Let Down” represented an attempt by the band to recreate the sound made famous by Phil Spector and his wall of sound. Yorke would later comment that the lyrics are “about that feeling that you get when you're in transit but you're not in control of it—you just go past thousands of places and thousands of people and you're completely removed from it.” The singer would look upon such lyrics as perfect symbolism for Generation X, which had strongly influenced the direction of it. “Karma Police” contains two major sections that alternate between piano and guitar, which originally came from “Sexy Sadie” by the Beatles. The title of the song was an inside joke between the band during the previous tour. If something bad happened to someone, they would say that the karma police were going to get them. The short Interlude “Fitter, Happier” became something that the Radiohead frontman wrote in 10 minutes while on a break. The voice came from the Macintosh Simpletext software application. He would later describe the words as a “checklist for slogans from the 1990s.”

“Electioneering” turned out to be one of the band’s heaviest rock oriented songs probably ever with lyrics that were inspired by the Poll Tax Riots. Another source of inspiration came in the book Manufacturing Consent by Noah Chomsky. “Climbing Up the Walls” has been described by Melody Maker as “monumental chaos.” The track was arranged by Johnny Greenwood for 16 instruments based on composer Krzysztof Penderecki's “Threnody to the Victims of Hiroshima.” No Surprises” would be initially inspired by “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by the Beach Boys, but they really wanted to replicate the mood of “What a Wonderful World” by Louis Armstrong or the soul music of Marvin Gaye. Yorke would say the song’s narrator is “someone who's trying hard to keep it together but can't.” The track that started it all “Lucky” was actually inspired by the Bosnian War. Yorke wanted to illustrate the actual terror of that conflict on the charity album, Help. Another theme that he drew upon emerged in his own anxiety about transportation. Critics have likened the guitar on the song to 1970’s Pink Floyd. The final track on the album “The Tourist” was specifically arranged by Jonny Greenwood to create a bit of space on the LP. The lyrics originated from Yorke witnessing tourists in France trying to see as many sites as possible. The title of the album came from the 1978 radio series based on The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy when character Zaphod Beeblebrox says, “Okay, computer, I want full manual control now." They had first heard the line while listening to the series on the bus for their tour in 1996. Yorke would say this about the title later. It “refers to embracing the future, it refers to being terrified of the future, of our future, of everyone else's. It's to do with standing in a room where all these appliances are going off and all these machines and computers and so on ... and the sound it makes." The artwork would be created by both Yorke and Stanley Donwood using a computer. The Radiohead singer would observe this about the art, “It's quite sad, and quite funny as well. All the artwork and so on ... It was all the things that I hadn't said in the songs."

Leading up to the release of the album, the band got very little support from Capitol Records because they did not have too much faith in the commercial potential of it. Much of the pessimism came in the fact that the record did not have any singles to put on the radio. Ed O’Brien would call it the “lack of a Van Halen factor.” The singles that were released from OK Computer included “Paranoid Android,” “Karma Police,” and “Lucky.” All of the singles charted in the top 10 in the UK, while they also did very well making the top 20 on the US charts. Their official website was created in order to promote the record, as well as some non-traditional promotional techniques by the record label. One such idea came in their decision to take out full-page ads in popular British newspapers and magazines with only the lyrics to “Fitter, Happier.” Another promotion sent out floppy disks to people in the press, which included many Radiohead screensavers. Upon its official release, OK Computer would debut at number one on the UK charts, while in the US the record made it to number 21. Please note that this was the highest American debut for the band. By September 2000, the release had sold 4.5 million copies worldwide.

Critics loved the album across the board. Writer Tim Footman would comment, “Not since 1967, with the release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, had so many major critics agreed immediately, not only on an album's merits, but on its long-term significance, and its ability to encapsulate a particular point in history." Many critics saw it as a very important album. Mojo wrote in their review, “Others may end up selling more, but in 20 years' time I'm betting OK Computer will be seen as the key record of 1997, the one to take rock forward instead of artfully revamping images and song-structures from an earlier era.” The New Yorker would congratulate the band on taking many more risks artistically then their contemporaries like Oasis. “Throughout the album, contrasts of mood and style are extreme ... This band has pulled off one of the great art-pop balancing acts in the history of rock." Most of the reviews that were slightly mixed seemed to focus on the fact that when compared with The Bends, this record did not contain as many catchy songs. The release would go on to win the Grammy for Best Alternative Album, but did not win Album of the Year. The praise for the album seemed to inundate the band a little too much. Also, Radiohead did not agree with the universal assessment that they had made the greatest progressive or art rock record since Dark Side of the Moon. Thom Yorke would say, “We write pop songs ... there was no intention of it being 'art'. It's a reflection of all the disparate things we were listening to when we recorded it."

The legacy of the album came to be represented in a variety of ways. First, the release of OK Computer coincided with the election of Tony Blair. Some writers have pointed to the pessimism on the record as a sign of things to come. Stephen Hayden would write, “Radiohead appeared to be ahead of the curve, forecasting the paranoia, media-driven insanity, and omnipresent sense of impending doom that's subsequently come to characterise everyday life in the 21st century." Second, the arrival of this album directly coincided with the decline of Britpop. The Oasis album Be Here Now did not attain the commercial or critical success that What’s the Story Morning Glory had received in 1995. Third, OK Computer directly influenced a new generation of artists including bands like Bloc Party and TV on the Radio. The album has landed on many lists over the subsequent years as one of the best releases of the decade and all time. Yet, not all retrospective reviews have been kind to OK Computer as it has also landed on some lists as one of the most overrated records of all time. A New Musical Express column criticized the release as the exact point when Radiohead stopped being good, but instead started to become important.