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thefreakandthehair · 4 months

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steddie | rating: m | wc: 955 | tags: established relationship, use of cake as a metaphor, they're so in love your honor | art credit: @firefly-party

Eddie Munson celebrates two birthdays every year: the day he was actually born, December 19th, and the day he woke up in the hospital, April 8th. Funny enough, the latter is usually a bigger celebration. Family and friends that no longer exist in separate groups come together with all of Eddie’s foods and drinks, small gifts and sometimes, a bigger gift from the collective.

Try as they might, they’ve yet to top the Metallica tickets.

But today is Eddie’s original birthday. December 19th— the one that’s usually swallowed up by the holidays, the one that really doesn’t mean all that much to him because, well, compared to waking up after saving the world, why would it? The last few celebrations have been tight-knit, mostly just himself, Wayne, and Steve either at Wayne’s trailer or the tiny little apartment Steve and Eddie managed to find for themselves.

This year, it’s just the two of them with no one to blame but Mother Nature. A blizzard drops nearly three feet of snow over northeastern Indiana and no one is going anywhere, least of all Wayne whose getting up there in years. We'll make up for it later, Eddie assures him when he calls with a stream of apologies.

How can he complain though? Wayne will make up for it, he’s snowed in with the love of his life, and the apartment smells like his favorite pasta sauce, the one he knows takes Steve hours to simmer. So no, he’s not disappointed. Not in the slightest.

“Sorry your day got snowed out,” Steve sighs, plopping down onto the couch and draping an arm along the back of the couch, toying with the ends of Eddie’s hair. “I did get you a surprise though.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, knitting tightly above his nose. There’s been no mail for two days, and their apartment doesn’t exactly lend itself to keeping secrets. “A surprise? What kinda surprise?”

“Well,” Steve smirks, confident in the way that always makes something stir in Eddie’s chest. “It’s not a birthday without a cake.”

He’s so fucking lost.

“A cake? We’ve been snowed in since Sunday and I would’ve smelled you baking in here. Also, I would’ve tasted it already, or at least demanded to lick the spoon so— wait, what are you doing?”

Steve stands up and walks around the back of the couch, just behind Eddie. “Just close your eyes, okay? Or do I need to blindfold you?”

He can hear Steve’s smug grin without even seeing his face and now it’s not just his chest stirring. Eddie shifts I’m his seat.

“No, no I can just close my eyes. Put a pin in the blindfold idea though.“

With his eyes closed, all he can do is imagine what the rustling is behind him, scenarios that will never compare to the sight he sees when Steve gives him the all clear.

“Okay,” Steve says, his voice now coming from directly in front of Eddie. “Open.”

Very funny, brain, he thinks. My entire life since the demobats has to have been just one long, final burst of dopamine before kicking the bucket because there’s absolutely no way this is fucking real.

Steve’s standing in front of him, shirtless, in nothing but some of the tightest shorts he’s seen Steve wear since the time he blindly walked into Scoops Ahoy asking for rum raisin and instead, got a fucking show. They’re dark maroon in hue with the word Cake printed in white script across the entirety of Steve’s ass. Moles litter his skin from the base of his neck down the flesh of his thighs, and the small indentation in his lower back is highlighted by the low waistband. Barely noticeable cuts in the sides expose what looks like black lace detailing.

“Holy shit,” Eddie groans, unable to stop himself from reaching out and touching the soft, cotton material.

“Yeah?” Steve looks over his shoulder with a knowing smile. “You like it?”

Eddie fingers trace the font and he doesn’t even dare to blink. If it is a coma dream, he doesn’t want to risk waking up. “Do I like it? If I ever say no to that, Steve, take me into a field and off me because I’ve been replaced by the body snatchers.”

Steve laughs and Eddie pulls him in closer, one hand on Steve’s hip and the other working its way up Steve’s thigh and beneath the fabric.

“Y’know,” Eddie starts, swallowing with a dry mouth around the lump in his throat. “There’s just one little problem with this birthday cake.”

“What?” Steve looks back over his shoulder again, this time confused.

He gives his right cheek a light tap, just enough to relish in the way the plush flesh moves. “It’s not finished.”

“Oh yeah? What’s it need?”

“You know I need my cakes frosted. And c’mon,” he leans forward and presses a kiss to Steve’s hairy thigh, just below the hem of the shorts. “Where’s the candle?”

Steve turns with a teasing grimace. “Did you just compare your dick to a candle?”

“Sure did. Is it working?” He smiles with his bottom lip between his teeth as he stands and places both hands in Steve’s hips.

“I can’t believe it, but yeah, it kinda is.” Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips and back up.

Eddie can barely get his thoughts in order, placing both hands on either side of Steve’s face and kissing him between words.

“Best.” He kisses his forehead. “Birthday.” He kisses his nose. “Ever.” He kisses his lips.

They make their way back to the bedroom and no one can blame him for leaving Steve’s ass littered in purpling hickies and love bites.

It’s a cake, after all.

art by @firefly-party to celebrate @sidekick-hero's birthday today! here's a little collaboration to honor our favorite Cake Enthusiast! Sandy, we love you and hope you have the absolute best day. go give her some love, everyone!

#please rb if you enjoy!!#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanart #steddie art #steddie fanart #stranger things fanart #myblurbs

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harlowcomehome · 3 months

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Love somebody like you:

Gif by @harlowgifs

⚠️: Intoxication.

Jack hadn’t responded to your texts in a few days, which was abnormal considering the two of you had been inseparable the last few months.

You had only worked with Chris and Neelam for a few months when Jack's entire world imploded, and he needed an unbiased point of view.

He gravitated towards you immediately, the two of you spending massive amounts of time together.

It was purely platonic, at least on Jack's end. He had been going through an emotional and rocky divorce and you had been his shoulder to cry on both metaphorically and physically.

You knew it was wrong to be attached to him, especially at a time when he was so vulnerable but you’d take whatever attention he was willing to give you.

You were starting to worry, especially when you showed up to the office and realized that nobody had heard from him all weekend.

He always checked in especially when it came to work-related commitments, which was something he rarely if ever put on the back burner.

“Maggie said he isn’t even answering her calls” Neelam sighed, looking to Chris for suggestions.

“We know he’s alive because he’s been using his credit cards” You chimed in, it was your job to organize and control his finances.

“I think you should stop by his place” Chris turned to you, Neelam nodding in agreement. The two of them thought you were good for Jack, knowing he didn’t confide in a lot of people and realizing how quickly he seemed to trust you.

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re basically his best friend” Neelam shrugged as she shuffled through some legal documents for the umpteenth time.

You hated that strings of words “best friend” when it came to Jack. What did that even mean? You might be HIS best friend but he was more than that to you.

You left the office immediately trying his phone for the third time today, and getting his voicemail box, making the pit of your stomach ache.

“Come on, Jack” you sucked your teeth before ordering an Uber to his place, the drive wasn’t far from the office.

You had wondered what was going on with him, the last time you saw one another he had been seemingly doing better.

When you got to his apartment building, you could hear music blaring from inside his place.

His neighbor Janet was just arriving home, dressed in her white doctor coat. She eyed you up and down before recognizing you, and giving you a soft smile.

“He’s been like that for a few days now.”

You thanked her for the information before pushing your way inside, unlocking his door with the emergency key he had given you a few weeks back.

His house was in shambles, cereal bowls and pizza boxes everywhere. You could tell he had company and likely a lot of it, he was snoring on the couch, in a tank top that was stained, likely with pizza sauce and mucus from all his tears.

Your heart broke, knowing this wasn’t like him at all. You cleaned up as best as you could without making much noise, finally shutting off his music that was far too loud in the first place before you walked over to him.

You gently shook him, startling him awake as he instinctively wiped the drool from his face.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He sat up quickly on the couch, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What’re you doing?” You laughed at his wide eyes and startled facial expression, his mind barely realizing how you could’ve got inside.

“I can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth.” He was embarrassed to admit it, realizing now that his entire place was in shambles. His curls were matted and greasy and he had a stench of body odor and booze radiating off of him.

“Go take a shower and then we’ll talk?” You had this calming aura about you that he found magnetic, meaning he was happy to agree.

He got up and went to his primary bedroom to take a shower while you filled trash bags up with empty food containers.

When he finally emerged from the bedroom he was in clean clothes and had enough cologne on to wilt a small garden. He was embarrassed at the state you found him in, hoping you’d forget it soon enough.

“You didn’t have to help me. I would’ve done it” he scratched the back of his neck as he realized the three giant trash bags full of trash.

“Respectfully? Shut up” you giggled, making him loosen up too as he matched your energy with a chuckle.

He nervously tied the trash bags shut, knowing what your follow-up question would be. The two of you had agreed on a phrase, letting you know if he had interacted with his ex-wife recently.

“Did you relapse?” You avoided his eye contact knowing his emotional icy eyes would affect you.

“No, I mean- sort of” he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Truthfully he knew how you felt about him, he knew that you were falling for him but he also knew he wasn’t in the position to be in a committed relationship and he selfishly didn’t want to lose your companionship.

Your breathing changed, you knew you'd have to bite back tears as he explained the last few days in detail. You turned to face him, faking a smile.

“Lay it on me.” You poured yourself a glass of wine, following him to the couch that desperately needed to be febreezed.

“Can you pour me one too?” Jack asked noticing you had only pulled one glass out of the cabinet.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumbled and he silently agreed before taking a seat on the couch.

Jack went into detail about how his ex-wife showed up Friday evening and spoke about how she and him spent that night christening every room in his new apartment.

You winced knowing just how awful she had been to him the last few months. He had cried on your lap too many times, and you were frustrated that he entertained her yet again.

You tried not to outright show your disapproval, but he felt it anyway.

“I know, I know” he sighed, sitting back on the couch. “But that’s completely done now” he reassured you, reaching for your knee and giving it a light squeeze.

“Didn’t you move here so she didn’t have your address?” You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, knowing you were likely leaving sooner than expected.

“What are you? My mother?” He laughed, partly joking but with a slight tone of annoyance.

“No but speaking of she’s been worried sick about you.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing at how this conversation had taken a turn. His family was always a touchy subject.

“Tell her I’m alive, I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” He yawned, something about his demeanor changed and you could tell he was irritated with you.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls?” You’d admit that it came out a little more hot-tempered than you initially wanted it to.

“Well I mean- on Saturday we just went right back to hating one another so I threw a party here and I’ve been tired. What does it even matter?” he was defensive.

“A party?”

“I had to get over her somehow” he shrugged, pushing your buttons purposefully now.

You felt the feelings of intense jealousy creeping up on you. You channeled it into disapproval, standing up and handing him his dead cell phone that was on his messy glass coffee table.

“You might want to charge that” you bitterly replied, looking for your purse that you had set aside as you walked in.

“Are you mad that it was her? Or mad that it isn’t you?” Jack staggered to his feet, swaying a bit.

You were frozen, wondering if you had heard him correctly. You swiftly turned to him, tracing his facial expressions with your eyes.

“Did you think I didn’t know?” He chuckled, and you realized he had to still be pumped with liquid courage from the night before, this wasn’t like him.

“Shut up. You’re being an asshole” your voice trembled, tears fighting to escape you.

“It’s not my fault you’re in love with me” he shrugged, a smirk spread across his face.

“I’m not in love with you. Why would I be in love with someone like you?” You finally found your purse and stood by the door getting ready to leave.

He was taken aback by that comment, his ego bruised from his fresh divorce.

“I- I mean. Are you not?”

“I’d never love someone like you” you lied. You lied with everything you had, knowing you had to be convincing as you slammed the door shut to his apartment and burst into tears in his hallway.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic

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girlfromenglishclass · 5 months

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In Much Ado About Nothing, the best thing about the "kill Claudio" line is its tonal shift. Before, when Benedick says "Bid me do anything for you," he's being playful.

They've just had a bumbling love confession, and he's giddy, they've been teasing. The dialogue beforehand reads

BENEDICK I will swear by it that you love me; and I will make him eat it that says I love not you. BEATRICE Will you not eat your word? BENEDICK With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest I love thee.

There's some wordplay, it's banter, it's a happy moment. When he says "Bid me do anything for thee," he imagines she's going to keep the game going. Instead, "Kill Claudio."

Honestly, I've seen some productions where the line gets a laugh. Because it's so out of left field. If you're reading the play on the page without stage directions, it actually throws you for a loop.

But Beatrice is being strategic. This whole scene has been goading Benedick into this. A few lines prior, we see:

BEATRICE Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her! BENEDICK Is there any way to show such friendship? BEATRICE A very even way, but no such friend. BENEDICK May a man do it? BEATRICE It is a man's office, but not yours.

She's literally saying in so many words, oh I would be so grateful to any man that could do me this favor. If only there was someone around... One of the major themes of the play is how men are driven to action by women. Beatrice cannot "eat his heart in the marketplace" as she wants, she can't make the challenge, but Benedick can. What she can do as a woman is to entice him to action.

There's another line in the play which, admittedly, is a sex joke (thanks Shakespeare) but adds to this theme. When Benedick makes a joke and offers her a buckler, we get the line from Margaret:

MARGARET Give us the swords; we have bucklers of our own.

A buckler is a shield to catch a sword in it, in this case it can be taken as a metaphor for a vagina. Margaret is teasing, but the subtext here is that the men have their weapons, and the women have theirs. It's Benedick's sword, but Beatrice's challenge to Claudio.

#Shakespeare #Much Ado About Nothing #Listen I love that bard

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ch4osworld · 2 months

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YOU ALWAYS EAT THE ONE YOU LOVE

Words: 697

Sooo i decided to take a pause from 'the passenger' until i get a decent idea for a chapter, in the meantime i got an idea for this.

Alastor x reader

Cw: cannibalism but as a metaphor for love, sadomasochism and suggestive. Maybe OOC Alastor i don't know. I went a bit crazy with this.

He feels the softness of your skin, cold and soft against his touch. He smells your delicate aroma, his teeth grazed against you. As he feels you against him he knows he can't resist, a strong desire engulfing him whole, laying deep into his soul, an oh so passionate love he feels for you only.

He wants you to be his every meal: his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, and his occasional snack. It doesn't matter how much flesh he eats, for he only craves yours. His crimson eyes staring deep into yours, with such a hunger it seemed he hadn't eaten for days. Is it really so wrong to love someone so much to want to consume them whole, to make them eternally part of you?

There are so many ways he could make you: braised, stewed, fried, grilled, raw. Yes that would be perfect, there is nothing better than to taste your flesh as pure as it can be.

Oh yes he must eat you now.

Oh he really can't make it anymore, he finally take a chunk from your shoulder. Your soft and delicate skin seems like it's melting in his mouth, oh how delicious you were. The bitter taste of blood invades his insides, truly a bliss. Oh how stupid it was going to heaven when he was living it right now.

Your scarlet blood ran on your naked chest, as the pain finally reached you. It hurt, it endlessly hurt, but oh how it felt good, it felt addictive. You wanted more...you needed more. He finishes his little hors d'oeuvre by licking off the blood still flowing from the wound, sliding down your body until cleaning every single drop of blood. But that wasn't the end, oh darling he didn't even manage to get to the main course!

His head kept getting lower and lower, reaching your inner thighs. He looked at you, you could feel the love, the desire, the passion. He took a moment to inhale your scent, oh you were truly such a doe! So cute and tasty!

After some agonizing long seconds, he bit, taking another chunk of your skin. Oh he wanted to savor you slowly, feeling every inch, getting every taste of you. This part of you was particolarly soft. How it felt good in his mouth, and the blood only served as a bitter sauce to make it just perfect. He made sure to take every inch of it, it's not like he didn't notice how good it felt for you.

Now how could he forget about the dessert? He looked at you. You were starting to feel weak from the blood loss, he knew it, but that's just makes it better doesn't it? But oh no, you were so pale it looked like you were about to faint! That just won't do. He moved up closer to your face, his lips still covered with your blood. He kissed you, a gentle and tender kiss, making you taste yourself "Now you don't taste so bad do you? I am sure you'll be more than happy for me to finish won't you?"

You eagerly nodded, how could you refuse another one when he made you feel so good? He hummed, content with your response, as he slowly slid down to your hip. He took a moment to inhale your scent and then he finally took a bite. Sounds of pleasure escaped your lips, as he happily savored his last meal, his mouth full with your scarlet blood.

He took a moment to look at you, to admire you. Blood covered you everywhere, oh you were truly delicious! In that moment it was only him and you, in his room, covered in blood. How romantic.

Oh but what partner would he be if he wouldn't let you eat? No, no dear that just won't do, you need to eat. It's your turn to have your meal now, and you could have as much as him as you wanted. It's your turn to feel him, for him to become a part of you, forever.

You got closer and closer, your breath itching against his neck

And you bite

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor

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the-spooky-alien · 1 year

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Nobody does it like Mulder and Scully. They’re partners, they’re best friends, they’re lovers. She’s his one in five billion, she wouldn’t put herself on the line for anybody but him. They’re always on each other’s side (and they know it). She shot him once, and he almost shot her too (and he would’ve if he hadn’t been desperately fighting back the voice in his mind). They’ve seen each other naked well before they first kissed. In fact, they undressed themselves (metaphorically and literally) on one of their first night working together because they wanted to trust each other. She was abducted and he stopped sleeping because he was trying to find her (and he was wearing her faith, holding her cross for her because he couldn’t not hope for her return). She makes him honest, a whole new person, and he needs her to go on (and she needs him too, they’re each other’s touchstone). She listens to him, gives credit to his theories when no one does, and in turn, he doesn’t belittle her for being a woman. They listen to each other so much that they begin to pick up some knowledge about the other’s interests. They save each other countless of time, they laugh and they love, and they grieve and they hurt, always with each other. She does an autopsy to his mother’s body because he asked her to and because he’s unravelling and she’s trying so hard to be there for him. He holds her up when her father dies, cups her cheek and asks her if she’s okay. He helps her through the loss of her sister and she helps him through the loss of his. They kiss on New Year for the first time (and it’s a bit of a lie. He kisses her on that ship, and they almost kiss in that hallway, and he kisses her in the hospital, on her cheeks and her hands). He almost kills himself when she’s ill because he can’t bear the thought of living without her. They dance together, happy and carefree, and then she loses her daughter and he’s there for her. She tugs him in his lap when he’s wounded and sing to him, and the day after, he jumps in a hole to follow her. They’re each other’s truth, the answer they’ve been looking for all these years without knowing it. They are at each other’s bedside all the time. HE WENT TO ANTARTICA TO SAVE HER. SHE TOOK AN HOSTAGE TO SAVE HIM ON THEIR SECOND CASE TOGETHER. HE WIPED SAUCE FROM HER CHEEK

#txf #dana scully #fox mulder #msr #i have never seen a relationship like they have #they are so messed up but also they love each other very much #rambling

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 1 year

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Bonuses For Fifteen Points

Steven Grant X GN!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Summary: You and Steven settle in for a comfy night in front of the TV watching quiz shows. But it's not too long before your mind starts to… wander.

Warnings: Swearing! Typossss! Fragment sentences! (the big three) oral (m receiving), idiots in love, finger sucking, slighty subby steven?

A/N: ‘Only Connect’ and ‘University Challenge’ are quiz shows that are usually on Monday nights on BBC 1 in the UK. I don’t know why I am obsessed with the idea that Steven regularly watches and enjoys these shows, but I am. So I thought I would make it everyone else’s problem as well.

Word Count: 2818

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem

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Mondays were always a particularly difficult day. The metaphorical start to the week, the beginning of the grind, the day everyone hated. And even though technically Steven’s rota changed regularly, and he was routinely scheduled in to work weekends, it still felt like Monday was the beginning. It just had that taste to the air.

Monday evenings, however, were a much different story.

A low buzz of excitement settled in his stomach as he busied himself in the kitchen. He had practically run home, (part of him was pretty sure that he would have beaten the bus and the regular dismal London traffic if he had been on foot), showered and quickly hoovered around the flat.

He’s last seen you on Friday morning, not that long ago relatively speaking, a rushed breakfast and quick kisses before both of you had to part ways and make the journeys to work. Hell, Steven had spoken to you on the phone yesterday, you had both sent each other messages today, but still it seemed like an age since he had held you in his arms.

The weekend had dragged. Work on Saturday had moved at a snail’s pace, Sunday had seemingly existed outside of space and time. Perhaps it was because you had been in Lincoln visiting friends, the physical distance between the both of you warping reality itself.

But it wouldn’t be long now before you’d be here. Before he could finally see you in person.

Steven stirred the pasta sauce absentmindedly, trying to focus and not let his mind wander too much. He turned the heat down slightly just as his phone buzzed.

‘Sorry! Running late! ☹’

His heart sank.

It didn’t matter, not really, the dinner would keep. He’d still see you, he’d-

His phone buzzed again: ‘Stupid lift isn’t working. Just taking the stairs.’

Steven frowned. Wait, were you talking about his building's lift?

He turned the hobs off completely and walked to the door, typing as he went.

‘Which lift?’ He deleted the message before he sent it, unhappy with the tone. ‘My lift?’

He deleted it again, one hand on the door latch when there was a knock.

He flinched back ever so slightly at the sudden sound before quickly checking the peep hole, and then promptly flung the door open when he caught a glimpse of you.

“Hello Ste-”

He was on you in a second, squeezing the air out of your lungs with his tight embrace.

You laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m all sweaty!”

“I don’t care.” Steven mumbled against your neck as he hugged you tighter.

You giggled again as you untangled yourself from his limbs, quieting his small wine of protest with kisses.

“Oh love!” He pulled away, his warm hands holding yours. “You’re freezing!”

You shrugged, beaming at him in a dopey lovesick way that you couldn’t help. “I forgot my gloves.”

“No,” he guided you into the flat, closing the door with his hip while he never let go of your hands, placing kisses along your knuckles and holding them as close as he could. Seemingly trying to warm them as quickly as possible by sheer force of will.

“It’s fine, you know me. Sweaty face from walking up some stairs, freezing hands.”

“I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

You shook your head and grinned. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He kissed you again, softer and slower than before.

Steven finished and plated up the pasta, while you showered and changed, before you both ate in front of the television for your traditional Monday night.

Watching Only Connect and University Challenge.

Steven was naturally better at quizzes than you, seeing the patterns in the sequences round with an almost uncanny lightning speed.

You loved it. Loved seeing his nose wrinkle in thought, the way his eyes grew wide and his excited hand movements when the answer came to him. Loved him.

In all honesty, you probably spend more time watching Steven than the shows.

Occasionally you teased him a little about his not so subtle crush on the host, Victoria Coren Mitchell, and giggling when he teased you back about your less than subtle crush on her as well.

“You should go on there you know.”

“What?” He shifted a little so that he could look at you better.

After eating you had both ended up laying on the settee. Your head on his chest with his arm wrapped around you.

You looked up at him. “You could go on Only Connect.”

Steven pulled a face. “Me? A contestant? I don’t think so.”

“You’d be amazing!”

He shook his head, but you could see the hint of pink on the edges of his ears.

You dug him gently in the side. “You would.”

“You need three people.”

“They do that thing where people make teams out of people who want to go on.”

He made a dismissive sound.

You paused and then grinned, leaning a bit closer to his face, all conspiratorial. “You could ask Victoria for a kiss when you win.”

Without warning Steven’s hand that had been resting pleasantly on your side attacked your ribs, tickling you mercilessly. You squealed and swatted him away, still laughing.

As you settled back down on his chest you poked your tongue out at him. He poked his out right back.

“I could ask her to give you a kiss.” He muttered, trying to hide his smile.

You didn’t look up at him. “I think you should.”

Steven giggled loudly.

You didn’t like University Challenge as much as Only Connect. It wasn’t so much the topics of the questions, as much as the matter in which the questions were said were a riddle in themselves.

You often thought teams should get points just for working out what was being asked in the first place.

That was most of the reason why your mind started to... wander a little.

You couldn’t focus on what Jeremy Paxman was saying or what Imperial College and some tiny off branch of Cambridge were replying.

All your mind was filling up with was the fact that you hadn’t held Steven at all over the weekend, hadn’t touched his skin or heard him moan.

Small prickles of heat tiptoed along your skin, you bit your lip and looked up at him.

He was watching, enwrapped, his fingernail between his teeth as he listened intently to the questions being asked.

A wicked little thought crept into your mind.

Slowly, ever so slowly as not to alert Steven to your plan, you inched your way upwards closer to your prize.

He didn’t notice until almost the last second, your mouth tantalisingly close to the sweet spot on Steven’s neck: just below his ear.

“Love, what-”

He cut himself off with a shuddered breath as you pressed your lips against him. Grazing his skin with your teeth before kissing and sucking hard just the way he liked it.

Steven let out a sharp moan, his body instinctively curling in towards you, his left hand gripping hard at your hip.

You put your hand on his face gently. Just enough pressure so that he bared his neck more fully as you continue to kiss and bite.

Arousal shivers down his spine and pools in his abdomen, his cock already half hard.

“Love, oh, fuck.”

You feel his little jolts of pleasure as you suck on his pulse point, bruises already forming under your actions.

He bucks upwards instinctively, trying to reach friction that isn’t there.

Steven doesn’t care about you leaving marks. Wait… that’s actually a lie. He does care. He cares too much. He wants them. Craves them. Needs them so, so much.

The second time you had sex you had apologised for the love bites that you had littered across his neck.

Steven had cut you off as quickly as he could, blurting out his words in a rush for fear you wouldn’t leave them again. He had told you how much he liked them, liked other people seeing them. Especially at work. He liked people knowing he was yours.

He wines, shifting and trying to turn his body towards you more so that he can grind against you. But you lean down against his shoulders, pushing him back against the settee as you continue your onslaught of his senses.

You tilt his jaw even more to the side with your hand and Steven darts out his tongue against your fingertips, unable to keep quiet.

He’s wrecked already, skin flushed and hair a mess. His eyebrows pinched together, eyes screwed shut as he squirms under your touch, desperate for more.

You kiss up to his ear, biting gently at the lobe and he gasps.

“Love, pleaaase.” He draws out the word between pants of breath.

He is achingly hard now, his cock straining against his jogging bottoms. You brush the edge of your thigh against it teasingly and Steven sobs.

“Please!”

You can’t deny him when he asks so prettily. But still you can’t help but tease.

“Please what?” You whisper between slow, light kisses. Barely touching your lips to his skin.

“Pleaaaase,” he moans again as you continue to just rub your leg against him. Enough pressure for him to feel it, but not enough to relieve any of the ache. It burns worse, a fire ignited under his skin.

Steven lets out a choked sob when you suck against his neck once more, the pressure of your teeth sending spikes of heat along his spine.

You push lightly against his jaw, giving yourself easier access and resting your fore and middle fingers on his plump bottom lip.

Steven’s tongue darts out, flicking against the skin between your fingers before taking them mouth into his mouth and moaning around them.

Your actions falter for a second as he sucks on them, spit running down his chin as he takes them as deeply as they can go. Bobbing his head and running his bottom teeth along the underside.

You lick a strip up his neck and nip softly below his ear. “Is that what you want?” You whisper, voice low and molasses slow.

Steven moans low, the vibrations running along your fingertips, his eyes screwed tight as he bucks up towards you.

“Hmmm?” You press your thigh fully against his crouch. “Is that what you need?”

He lets out another choked sob around your fingers, arching his back off the settee into your touch so he can grind himself against you.

You watch him for a moment, savouring the sight of him. His head thrown back, the tension in his neck and the dark bruises on his skin. Before you suddenly move away.

Steven sobs at the loss of contact, his eyes fluttering open.

However he doesn’t get a chance to speak, all too quickly you are just easing up his top so that you can kiss the hot skin just above his jogging bottoms and nuzzle his left hip bone.

He jumps a little at the swipe of your tongue but groans and arches into your touch.

You pull down his waistband just enough so that his cock springs free, slapping against his lower stomach. The sight of it makes your mouth water and Steven sighs as you take him in your hand.

Precome shines in the weak light and you lap it up eagerly, pressing your tongue flat against the tip of him and swiping along his slit achingly slow.

You can feel the tension in his stomach and legs, the small twitches of muscle as he fights to keep himself still as you continue to lick unhurriedly, swirling your tongue around the head and then back to teasing his slit.

The sweet little hitches of Steven’s breath are like music to your ears. You break away from your actions only to better position yourself and lick the long path back from the root of him to the tip, one hand holding his length, the other massaging his balls.

Heat is pooling in his abdomen, the familiar pressure beginning to spike.

Steven shifts onto his elbows so that he can watch as you slowly take him into your mouth, tortuous in your movement as you bob up and down, swallowing more of his cock with each dip.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he doesn’t realise he’s muttering under his breath, swearing as if the words were a prayer.

It’s so warm, so wet, so perfectly overwhelming that it pushes all thoughts out of his head, leaving his mind quiet save for the painfully delicious building of bliss.

You glance up at him, watching him watching you. His eyes are dark, gaze unfocused and mouth open. His chest shudders with each intake of air as he stares at his cock disappearing into you.

You increase your pace, sucking him harder and taking him so deep that tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes.

Pleasure cracks down on him, flares along his limbs as he moans loudly, swearing and bucking up into your mouth, just managing to stop himself from pushing too far. He falls back, head against the armrest, holding onto the sofa cushions for dear life.

“Love please, oh fuck, oh god,” words pour out of him, “so good, please, you take me so-so, fuck, I,” he’s not paying any attention to what he’s saying, to anything, other than the sweet torment of your mouth and hands.

He’s going to come soon, he can’t help it, his thighs starting to shake.

You can tell by his whimpers, the way his eyes are tight shut in pleasure and-

“Which Egyptian queen of the fourteenth century BCE was the wife of the Pharaoh Akhenaten, and is believed by some scholars to have reigned briefly in her own right after her husband's death?”

“Neferneferuaten Nefertiti...” Steven mutters between a moan, not even realising he’s said it.

“Neferneferuaten Nefertiti.” One of the contestants answers.

“Correct.”

You pull away from Steven with a pop, unable to hold back your laugh.

His eyes snap open, the pleading look on his face quickly jumping to confusion and then, “did- did I just answer a...?”

You nod, grinning wildly.

Red sears into his cheeks and the tops of his ears, panic flooding his features. “Love, I’msosorryIdon’tknowwhyIdidthatIwasjustlostinthemomentI-”

You dive back on him, chasing all other thoughts away as you swallow him down and set a brutal pace.

His hand flies to the back of your head, fingers tight in your hair but not pushing or pulling as his tip hits the back of your throat again and again and again.

Curses race past his lips between the moans and stuttered sorrys.

His orgasm builds ridiculously fast, your mouth bringing him to the edge and threatening to pull him over as Steven tries to retain some control over himself.

He can barely get his words out, “I’m, I’m,”

You hum around him, not slowing for a second, and scratch your nails along his thighs.

Steven comes loudly with a snap of his hips, coming hard into your mouth as you eagerly swallow around him, drinking down every last drop.

All the tension leaves his body at once, leaving him jellified under you.

Slowly you ease off of him, giving the tip of his cock a final lick to make sure you cleaned up all of his release before tucking him back into his jogging bottoms.

You run your hands along his arms as you sit up, gently massaging his muscles as he comes back to himself.

His breathing evens out and he blinks heavily, gazing up at you.

“That was,”

You don’t let him get the words out as you kiss him lightly. Steven moans and moves up with you as you try to move away, cradling the back of your neck with his hands and bringing you back down to his mouth.

You smile and deepen the kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue.

“I’m sorry I answered a question while you were sucking me off.” He mutters.

The bluntness of his words, and the genuine sincerity behind them, make you giggle. You kiss him again before pressing your forehead against his.

“I think it’s very sexy of you.”

Steven snorts, but at least he’s smiling now.

“I think we’ll have to make it more interesting next time.” You mutter. He gives you a quizzical look and you grin wickedly, a dark light shining in your eyes.

“You’ll answer the questions, and if you get one wrong I’ll slow down.”

Steven stares blankly back at you, and for a moment you think he doesn’t understand. It’s not until you see a familiar flush on his skin and hear the little increase in his breathing that you realise it’s the opposite.

You bite your lip. “You’d like that?”

Steven nods rapidly, so much he almost becomes a blur.

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #gender neutral reader #steven grant x gn!reader #x reader #moon knight #moon knight x reader #my writing #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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buffetlicious · 7 days

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After dining out at Fu Lee Seafood (富俐海鮮), a tze char (煮炒) stall located in Block 126 Canberra Street, sis help packed for us the Mango Crispy Chicken (芒果脆鸡) and Yang Zhou Fried Rice (扬州炒饭). Love the extra crispy fried chicken cutlet with tangy sweet and spicy mango sauce. Even the fried rice is so good with flavour of the Wok Hei (镬气), translated into English means “wok thermal radiation” or metaphorically, the “breath of the wok”.

Menu courtesy of Fu Lee Seafood.

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yukidragon · 3 months

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Jack is le snake {forgot the specific species}

Shaun is a black cat, change my mind

Ian is a Shiba Inu, change my mind

But what about Nick and Joseph? Would Joseph be different than a snake? Maybe a dragon? I can see that.

Would Nick be a species of bird {raven/crow for example} or would he be a reptilian?

Goodness, these questions are making me wanna draw them again and remove my artblock!!! >w<

I don't think Jack's specific snake species was ever given even after I made the initial fursona headcanon post, but he was a white snake with red markings, as you can see here with this gorgeous picture Sauce drew. Credit, as always, goes to them for their amazing art.

On that note, consider joining the SnaccPop Studios patreon for even more gorgeous art if you haven't already. It's definitely well worth it in my opinion, and it helps support the team!

I totally agree with you that Shaun is a black cat. A shiba would definitely fit Ian.

The species I would pick for Nick is, hmm... Sadly, we have pretty limited info about Nick, so it's hard to say. My first thought is an animal that fits well with therapy dogs. Perhaps a cheetah who has two little puff pom pets to help him with his stress after a certain snake keeps slithering through the grass.

Well, maybe a not. Aside from the therapy dog angle, there's not much about Nick that screams cheetah to me. Plus we already have a cat with Shaun. A raven is a good possibility, but I'm not so sure. I'd need to give it some more thought...

Joseph would probably be a snake like Jack considering Jack is just Joseph wearing a clown mask, essentially. Though I certainly would enjoy seeing him as a dragon, regardless of the name he uses, as evidenced by the past couple dragon Jack headcanon posts here and here. Heck, you could have the best of both worlds with an eastern dragon that has a snake-like body. It would fit with Jack having supernatural powers.

It would be interesting if Joseph as a snake has a more muted color palette, while Jack's is brighter. It feels like there should be some sort of metaphor with a snake shedding its skin and looking different afterwards here somewhere...

As I recall there is a legend about a carp becoming a dragon. Maybe a snake could do the same. What if Joseph started off as a snake, but became a dragon as Jack?

Speaking of dragons, expect more dragon headcanon posts because it's the year of the dragon and y'all are enabling my dragon fantasy indulgence and I love you for it. 💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Sauce-y Art

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foxes-that-run · 3 months

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Daylight

Harry said Daylight is about infatuation with troubled things. He sings about a long distance relationship where his muse, to me Taylor, keeps him at a distance, he wants to be with them and wants more than his muse gives him. In a theme for his work at that time Harry sings of cocaine, travelling the world and romantic encounters but he really just wants his muse to love him back. Yet knowing they keep him at a distance Harry can't help wanting to be with them.

The lyric video has Sunflowers with their heads are dropped :( this happens when they don’t have water, a reference to Taylor Swifts Clean (When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst) and Sunflower Vol 6.

Music video

The music video for Daylight is fantastic and full of Haylor easter eggs in these:

@womanexile has detail in part 1 and part 2,

@this-daydream-is-dangerous-13 post about the timeline for making the video and the James Corden $300 video showing it was made May 22 before it’s July 23 release. The Olivia tattoo is seen in it. and

This post about seven and the video

Title and Track list

Daylight is also the name of the last song on Taylor Swift's album Lover. It was originally the title track, and Taylor hinted at it in the Red Liner notes while she was still dating Harry. Taylor’s Daylight is about true love, the last sung verse of Taylors Daylight is [love] "it's golden like daylight". Harry then opened Fine Line with Golden. Daylight is track 5 of Harry's House.

What Harry has said

youtube

Howard Stern (8:10) Harry said:

"Daylight was quite an early song on the album, it's one of my favourites and it was kind of a stream of consciousness writing that happened kind of late. It was one of those songs that very much captures a moment of what was happening in the studio. We were kind of all talking about going to bed and then we started this song and it felt like if we go to bed and do it tomorrow it's not going to be the same as it would be if we finished it now. So you found a way to stay up. I think sometimes there are things that can feel like we have to find a way to finish this now. We did an all nighter, finished it and went out the beach to watch the sun come up and it was a nice moment of this album." Stern 'this is about some woman that didn't pay attention to you. He reads the line with cocaine before asking. There is a frustration in this song' Harry confirms it is about one woman. And responds "I think it is kind of like an infatuation with chasing troubled things"

Stern continues, 'You know Taylor Swift has a song called Daylight, maybe she's the girl in the thing?' To which Harry says "here we go, mm hm." and looks away. Stern, seeing the answer, offers, 'or am I reading too much into it.' which Harry agrees with, Stern comments on his smile Harry adds "You know I'd love to tell you that your spot on, but I can't" smiles and exchanges a knowing look with Mitch. Call me as convinced as Stern, what Harry said was he couldn't confirm that, especially after Stern read the cocaine line.

To Zane Lowe Harry (41 mins) told a similar story about staying up to complete it and told the surfing/song writing metaphor. Zane approached it along with As it Was and Grapejuice as a suite he sees as expressing pain and vice dependency. Harry moved on to talk about As It Was.

Timeline

Harry was in LA promoting Fine Line when the COVID travel ban was introduced 17 March 2020. Harry told Zane Lowe (24 Mins) he stayed home for 6 weeks then booked and went to Shangri-la studio to record. LNT, Daylight, Keep Driving and Sushi were in this group, to Stern and Lowe he said Daylight was one of the first. That places these songs between 28 April 2020 and 18 July 2020 (when Harry was back in the UK) Daylight at the earlier end of that time. The leaked too much sauce was recorded and Taylor wrote Folklore in that period also. See 2020 timeline.

Live Performances

Daylight was the 4th song on the Love on Tour Setlist, once Harry's House was released. Harry replaced it with Stockholm Syndrome for 18 shows from 18 May 2023, appearing in a handful of shows in June and July. The only shows with both were Wembley and the last show.

The tour visuals have a blue bird flying between LA and London. Harry also had a cloud background. Showing LA rather than NY is interesting when the song mentions NY.

What is the Bluebird Reference about

Bluebirds appeared in the opening to Love on Tour and may refer to:

Charles Bukowski's has a poem Bluebird, Harry is read Bukowski books and poems on stage. In the poem, the bird is a metaphor for Bukowski's emotions, articulated that he weeps in private. He keeps it hidden with whiskey to protect his image that sells books of misogynistic poetry, he opposes weeping with strength and cleverness. If Harry is referencing this, this is it is consistent with the reference to Harry's own work:

In "If I could Fly" Harry shared his vulnerability with his muse for their eyes only and hoped they would not run from him. In this same HH recording period, Harry has a series of songs that describe a rockstar lifestyle, referring to choking and cocaine, (Daylight, Keep Driving and (leaked) Too Much Sauce and (leaked) Make My Day) but that Harry actually just wishes his muse reciprocated his feelings and wanted to settle down and be happy.

When she was 14 Taylor Swift's was given her first record deal and performed at a writers night at the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. She talks about it in this video when she returned to the cafe, there are photos of her 2004 performance with Scott Borchetta in the audience. The cafe has a chair with a plaque she included in the Taymoji set. Harry would have known this, however the Grammy museum also covered when she played there in 2018. Taylor also had a bluebird in the WANGBT video and on 17 June 2023 uploaded a single image to youtube with bluebirds promoting Eras in Mexico. This was a few weeks before Harry’s daylight MV was released.

This link lists songs about bluebirds. I think Paul McCartney's "Bluebird" and Joe Ely's "If you were a Bluebird" are both plausible.

In Summary I think the bluebird is a metaphor for Harry's inner feelings that he is someone who loves and wants to be loved back. He sees his rockstar trappings are a salve, not a life goal.

Lyrics

I'm on the roof, you're in your airplane seat I was nose-bleeding, looking for life out there Reading your horoscope, you were just doing cocaine In my kitchen, you never listen, I hope you're missing me by now

The opening verse expresses the frustration Stern referred to. Harry's muse and he are apart now, and he is missing them, almost indigently hoping they miss him too, yet he cares, he’s reading their horoscope. This sounds to me like a disagreement or unsatisfying parting and Harry wants to be with them.

I hear the first lines as a double meaning:

Harry is high (on the roof, nose-bleeding) but his muse is higher (in the sky).

his muse has also now flown away in their own airplane seat and left him waiting - they are separated by distance.

'Nose bleeding, looking for life' reminds me of Kiwi "Holland Tunnel for a nose, it's always backed up" and Satellite's name and "You got a new life". "Out there" and the tour visuals showing LA rather also remind me of Satellite's 'L.A. Mood'.

In the music video here Harry climbs down from a ladder to the sky, which reminds me of Story of My Life's "But, baby, runnin' after you is like chasin' the clouds". Clouds appear in several of their videos, including Lavender Haze, where, on the Eras tour, Taylor climbs up a ladder to one:

If I was a bluebird, I would fly to you You'd be the spoon Dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you

To me, this lyric is most reminiscent of Harry's One Direction song, If I Could Fly and it has the similar meaning, Harry is separated from his muse and wishes he could fly home to them. While If I could fly is about sharing vulnerability and hoping they don't run from him, in Daylight his muse keeping him at a distance.

I love dip you in honey so I could be sticking to you, it's adorable and bittersweet and very Harry. Bittersweet because Harry wants to be with his muse, who at the start of the song was not listening to him and he was hoping was missing him. He wants to spend all his time with them and he doesn’t feel that is reciprocated.

In this part of the video, the muse in Red (Taylor's colour) takes shots at him (songs, antics in media) he is resigned that it may kill him, his muse gives a flirting smile when it doesn't. Harry then walks past muses in pink with a bored look. A Grapejuice reference "I'm so over whites and pinks" Harry only has eyes for his 'old and Red' muse, even though they enjoy taking shots at him.

Daylight, you got me cursing the daylight (ooh) Daylight, you got me cursing the daylight (ooh) Daylight, you got me calling at all times (ooh) Ain't gonna sleep 'til the daylight (ooh)

This lyric reminds me of Harry talking about staying up to finish the song, but also he's staying up late night talking and wanting to be with his muse all the time. Calling at all times could be a muse on a different timezone, or maybe one he can't keep from.

In the video Harry is trying to get to his muse, clowns (read: us) are in the way. He cries and we are on his side, because we are! Harry is commenting on fans getting in the way of his love. Sorry Harry. He is too loud for his muse dressed as Miss Americana (& the Heartbreak Prince) who leaves. This scene reminds me of Story of my life "holding on too tight"

Out of New York, I'm on the comedown speed We're on bicycles, saying, "There's life out there" You got the antidote, I'll take one to go, go, please Get the picture, cut out my middle You ain't got time for me right now

This verse is similar to the first, Harry is a parting from his muse, he feels incomplete when they are apart, but his muse is keeping him at a distance. The verse has similarities to several of Harry's songs:

Out of NY, comedown speed, I hear as Harry leaving NY and coming down, or feeling sad to be away from his muse.

Harry does refer to Bikes in Matilda, however to me, where Harry rides a penny farthing here in the video emphasises that this is a winding wheel reference. The spinning and 'life out there' also remind me of Satellite again. In the first verse Harry was looking for life out there and he has now found it.

Antidote is also in Golden "I can feel you take control (I can feel you take control) / Of who I am, and all I've ever known Lovin' you's the antidote", and Ever Since New York "Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote" a Medicine is also similar to an antidote. Also in End of the Day "Twenty minutes later, wound up in the hospital / The priest thinks it's the devil, my mum thinks it's the flu / But, girl, it's only you" Here Harry takes one to go because he's parting from his muse.

Finally, the last 2 lines are also reminiscent of Satellite "(Spinning out, waiting for ya) / I'm in an L.A. Mood / I don't wanna talk to you/ She said, "Give me a day or two"

#harry styles #haylor #harry’s house #charles bukowski

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harrylights · 3 months

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ok maybe i’m just reading too much into this, but like even instrumentally too much sauce has a lot of metaphors going on. pretty much the only things that remain consistent are the bass and drums, the backbone of the song. i can’t help but draw a parallel to the “simple boy” he started out as and probably still feels connected to in some ways. no matter how much things have changed for him in the last 15 years, that doesn’t change who he was and how he grew up. as the song goes on, the guitar sounds are all over the place. going from simple strumming and what almost sounds like a ukulele to more distorted yet groovy riffs that sort of poke their heads out for a couple seconds at the start, and then that reverby almost surf rock sound closer to the end that remains more consistent. to me that feels like the way he’s gone through different phases musically, starting off with maybe what some would consider more basic, and gradually sounding more and more unique as the song goes on in a way that’s sort of hard to pin down. and at the end, things feel both groovy but also sort of melancholic, with some effects that on their own would lowkey sound a bit haunting even during the otherwise more upbeat chorus. and i can’t help but feel like that’s symbolic of the polarities he has to embody at all once. there’s his public image and then there’s his private life, whatever that looks like, but nobody is without some sort of struggle. and with love on tour being such an iconic and distinct era, the end of it can only bring change, probably in both positive and negative ways. lyrically of course there’s also a lot of polarity going on too, from more moody and almost self deprecating to leaning into the “good time” vibes. and that all just feels echoed so perfectly in the choices they made musically. this song is sort of a living contradiction to itself and it’s quickly becoming one of my favourite songs by him tbh and i rly hope we get to hear more stuff like this from him on hs4

#brought to u by someone who just listened to it on repeat during a half hour bus ride lmao #i’m def overthinking it but i just love this song so bad bro #too much sauce #rowyn rambles

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excelsi-or · 1 year

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sunshine (jihoon fic)

for anyone like me who’s been looking for something fluffy to read with no dramatic plot.

w.c. 493 (fluff)

She reminds him of sunshine.

Wrapped in his arms, she’s warm. He’s notorious for being cold, but when he curls around her, with her to his chest, he feels as if he’s warmed inside and out.

When she walks into a room, it’s as if everyone else is a sunflower. They turn to her, a few even smile in response. She smiles shyly at everyone, hating the attention on her. But then her eyes seek him out and her smile broadens, a true beaming smile. He doesn’t mind being the favourite sunflower.

They’d first met in summer. They spent endless hours on the beach, and every night, her skin smelled like the sea and sun. It reminded him of long naps in sunlight. They went back to the city and he gifted her with a perfume that smelled like the beach. He thought she wasn’t wearing it, but when he went in for a hug, he could smell it in her hair. When he had her beneath him, he could smell it deep in her skin.

Their favourite game is to create metaphors and analogies with coffee and tea between them. He always insists on food, but she always says no. And yet, she plucks food off his plate when it arrives. It doesn’t bother him. He’d rather she be fed than not. Then they toss metaphors and analogies back and forth. It always starts as something funny, mildly insulting in the kindest way possible, before she turns it into something loving. She’s described him as her favourite melody, one that lives in her head and keeps her company in boredom and joy.

She’s always nature to him: sunshine, the quietest forest, the smallest flower, the brightest star.

The metaphors work in his songs. But her metaphors for him circle his heart and settle there. Whenever he thinks of them, he tells her he loves her. He gives her kisses if she’s close enough, holds her hand if she’s not. He sends her texts of love if she’s not in the room.

“Hoonie,” she calls as she walks through the door. She brings the wind from the ocean in with her.

He looks up from his notebook where he’s scribbled half formed lyrics.

Her hair is damp from her time in the ocean, waving from the salt water. It’s lightened a bit with the sun, he can tell. She leans down to give him a light kiss. “Food?”

He can taste the Coke and soy sauce on her lips. She’s eaten already. But she bustles in the kitchen. The food’s for him. A reminder to take care of himself even when he's working. He brings his notebook with him to the kitchen, his lyrics suddenly connecting. He finishes the song by the time she’s presented him with food.

She tips her head at his expression before grinning. “I love you too,” she whispers.

If his heart burst right now, it would explode in sunbeams.

#Lee Jihoon #lee jihoon scenarios #woozi #woozi scenarios #woozi fic #woozi imagines #Seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines

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thequietesthing · 5 days

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since everyone is giving their two cents about the new taylor swift album, i’ll also do the same (it’s more like ten cents cause it’s very long sorry)

first of all, this album (i’m talking about ttpd: the anthology with all 31 songs) can be truly appreciated once you hear it at least twice with the lyrics right in front of you. the reason for this, imo, is pretty simple; the first thought i had while listening to this the first time (and be mindful of the fact that my mind was huddled with sleep bc it was very early) is that it sounds like a diary, more than any other of her previous albums. which is why, i think, that the people that don’t particularly like it may never have kept a personal diary in their life. and i’m not talking about gratitude journals, i’m talking about “teenage petulance” written words, with anger, resentment, hope, love and sadness. which would very well explain the lack of “storyline” that i’ve seen people complain about, in the sense that she doesn’t create stories within her songs but only verbose imaginaries. when you write in your diary you use metaphors, analogies and periphrasis but since it’s something raw and yours you don’t need to craft a story about it because the diary it’s something you write for yourself, so you don’t need to make the effort of making something “pretty” as it’s not supposed to be read by anyone else. it often feels like an unending river flow of messy words because that it’s how writing your own feelings looks like. also the fact that she often reports pieces of dialogue she imagines hearing or that someone actually said it’s a very typical trait of diary entries.

second of all, the games of assigning which song to who can be fun for like the first two hours but then it gets very freaking boring. if you don’t understand that everything that she writes she writes about how she feels and about how other people make her feel you have not been paying attention. she is the main character; if the issue for you is whether that song is written for that person instead of another, you are giving more importance to secondary/recurring roles than to her. these are her words, her story. and i’m not saying it’s not fun ok, catching references to ex-boyfriends or other people, but you can’t, and you shouldn’t, make an entire album that she wrote about her personal intimate experiences about someone else.

to circle back to the lyrics, i think that this album may be one of her best works. they are smart on both a linguistic and metaphorical level. as someone who deeply enjoys english as a language i always have the time of my life listening to her albums and her choice of association of words, themes and rhymes.

a last point regarding the tunes. i am by far the last person that knows anything about music, you give me a pretty tune and i usually like it regardless of where is from (cue my very eclectic music tastes) so when everyone said that all the music sounded alike i was like uhmm. when i heard it a second time (guys the key it’s really in this!!!) i was like no they are different from one another. but also, and this may be a little far fetched so feel free to disagree but it’s what i perceived, is that in this album she may have put much more effort in the lyrics than in the music. not always obvs she is a musician after all, but i think that the turning point here, the thing that she wants us to pay attention to, are the lyrics (also why it’s called tortured poets department and not tortured musicians department :))

to sum everything up, i really really enjoyed this album when i listened to it the first time but i’m appreciating her skills and understanding her lyrics more the second time around. it’s an album that has to be let marinate, like a sauce, otherwise is gonna taste a bit acidic. anywho this is just my opinion, i just needed to tell it to someone and the irl people in my life are not willing to listen, so people of tumblr you are the unfortunate recipients of my two cents on ttpd :)

#personal opinion #taylor swift #the tortured poets department #the tortured poets department opinion #lyrics #songs #music #taylor swift ttpd #ttpd #the eras tour #ts11

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