#an excerpt from the song i never wrote

[azkzaban]

"No, you don't understand," she said softly as tears poured out of her eyes, a false smile trying to make its way to her face. His thumbs traced her knuckles and he did his best to ignore the stinging in his eyes. "For you – this is a goodbye to somebody you care about,someone you used to love, so you can be with the one you love the most, but for me —" he voice broke as her sobs became harsh against her throat.

Her burning eyes met his, but her vision was so blurry all she could see was her own pain as she trembled.

The boy knew what she was about to say, and as his throat became raw with guilt, he couldn't help but wonder if he was making a mistake.

Her voice was tight when she spoke.

"You are the one I love most."

— a rough draft from a story I'll never write

#i was in the mood for sad so i wrote this on the whim #sad maybe #the first paragraph kept turning into italics and i almost threw my phone #draft dump #rough draft #angst #a song made me sad #tumblr #i dont write angst often #but my thoughts define the term #writing #never going to write #maybe #writer #writeblr #excerpt from a book i'll never write

[jinnie-ret]

If ur taking rq still can I rq a skz x 15 year old girl in training (like that protection gic you wrote ) and how they react to her being good at producing, singing, rapping and dancing but they didnt know she could do all that until they keep running into her or maybe look for her because they ordered fkkd for her too eat with them and they see her in her rehearsals and in her dance practice room learning like idk an itzy choreo or sum by herself and they see shes improved since they last saw her do everything? Ig like a little Ace if u would like to put It that way!

It's ok if u don't want to or can't do this tho! Love ur writing💕

ace of hearts

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: fluff

content warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

summary: stray kids have nothing but good things to say about the upcoming ace of jyp.

I hope you enjoy! There's a small excerpt of a song Y/N has written herself which I actually wrote (it's a hobby of mine hehe) so if you want me to post the whole thing I'll do so, maybe as a poem haha

My asks are currently shut but if you want to be added to my taglist, do let me know! And if you liked it, please reblog and like! :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Shoulder shimmying had never been so hard, but Y/N seemed to have finally gotten down the choreo to ITZY's 'Wannabe', the members of Stray Kids seeming to think so too. They had just been looking around for a room to practice in when they came across their young trainee friend, who they hadn't seen for a while due to their busy schedule.

A small applause sounded from behind Y/N, making her jump as she saw the door open and Stray Kids clapping for her.

"Ah! Hello sunbaenims!" Y/N blushed and bowed politely. She wasn't expecting to see them there, so absorbed into practising for her next showcase.

"Hi there!"

"Annyeong!"

"Wow!"

They all let out greetings as they walked over excitedly to Y/N.

"How has everything been? It's been a while since we saw you," Jeongin smiled widely at Y/N, trying to ease the obvious nerves he saw from her.

"Have you been practicing regularly? Your dancing has improved a lot," Changbin nodded his head in approval.

"Ah, you really think I've improved?! Yeah I've been practising a lot these days..." Y/N bashfully admitted, rubbing her sweaty palms on her leggings. Was it from exercising or from nerves? She wasn't quite so sure herself.

"We can see that. You're better at dancing and freestyling than us now," Lee Know laughed, praising the younger girl jokingly, but there was still a hint of seriousness to it that showed Y/N he was proud of her, and that helped her relax more.

"Maybe one day even Jisung will be jealous of your dancing skills," Felix laughed, causing the quokka like man to look over at him with a mock appalled face.

"Haha maybe I'll take his place as the ace," Y/N smirked, feeling comfortable enough to joke around with them. It wasn't a regular occurrence that she saw the boys but everytime she did, she was soon able to fall back into a relaxed state where it felt like she had known them forever.

"No way! You will never be as talented as me!" Jisung smirked back, yet he couldn't help but goofily smile back at her as he ruffled her hair.

"Well, we're glad you're practicing so hard. Would you like to have some fried chicken with us?" Seungmin piped up, his eagle eyes noticing that she only seemed to have some water in the room with her. Plus, he remembered what it was like being a trainee, and an offer of fried chicken would not be one to be turned down.

"Oh sure! If there's enough to go around!" Y/N clasped her hands together excitedly.

"Of course there's enough food! We're so proud of all your progress by the way, we can tell how hard you've been working, Y/Nnie," Chan praised her, as they all sat down together on the floor.

"Here, eat up," Hyunjin passed over a box of fried chicken to Y/N from the bags of fast food they had.

"Just remember to take a lot of rest too," Jisung commented genuinely, yet anyone could tell he, as well as the other members were very much so enthralled with the heaven sent food in front of them.

"Don't worry I do!" Y/N rushed out, before taking a bite of the fried chicken and wiggling slightly as she did a happy dance.

"You're so cute when you're excited!" Felix giggled as he saw her.

"That's exactly what Channie hyung does," Seungmin laughed along.

There was a moment of peaceful eating before Chan kept up the conversation.

"Oh yeah, we wanted to ask you something! Are you good at rapping?" Chan wondered, wiping his hands on a napkin.

"Well, I don't want to brag but I think I'm pretty good," Y/N shrugged, she had practiced enough and knew she was at JYP for a reason, and her talents certainly didn't go to waste when it came to rapping.

"Oh yeah? You actually rap too? I had no idea. Have you tried writing your own lyrics before?" Changbin got excited at the prospect of hearing Y/N rap.

"I'm not as confident in writing rap lyrics as I am in singing them if that makes sense?" Y/N explained, hoping it was understandable.

"I get what you mean. You must be very talented though since you can sing so well," Lee Know wondered.

"Do you happen to write your own songs too or do you learn songs from other artists?" Chan asked, interested in what her identity as a future artist would be.

"Oh I like to write my own songs too!" Y/N beamed. Now that, was an area she was proud of herself for.

"Really? Can you play one of your original songs for us?" Hyunjin said in a shocked tone, head tilting slightly in disbelief but wanting to hear her sing nonetheless.

The boys all stared at her in anticipation.

"Oh, sure... If you really want me to," Y/N became nervous again, because this was Stray Kids! Yes they felt like her friends but to sing her own personal works in front of them was still nerve wracking.

"Yes, we really want you to!" Jeongin encouraged her, offering that same reassuring smile as he did earlier.

All of the members were now eagerly waiting for her.

"Ok, here's a chorus I wrote recently," Y/N finally nodded, making the boys even more excited as she began to sing.

"Oh it's in my bones.

Hereditarily alone.

Surrounded by people,

But that gives no meaning.

It's in my bones."

The boys stared in in wonder, thinking the words were so beautiful and they loved the emotion she put into it even for such a small snippet of the song.

"Her voice is amazing..." Hyunjin was in awe.

"Yeah, you have a really good vocal tone!" Jisung clapped.

"And you wrote that yourself?" Chan smiled like a proud dad.

"Can we hear more?" Changbin said hopefully, nudging Y/N playfully.

"Well, I think I should now that I've sang a teaser for you," Y/N beamed, and for the next couple of minutes she sang the rest of the song to the boys. She even played a small backing track which consisted of an acoustic guitar, simple but sweet, building up towards the end of the song.

"I can't wait to see you debut!" Felix clapped with the other boys.

"You really will steal everyone's hearts, Y/N, you'll go far," Chan said, a big smile adorning his face as everyone offered their comments and praises to Y/N.

"Just don't let it get to your head," Lee Know joked, causing his members to whack him playfully and tell Y/N to not listen to him anymore.

"Thank you guys, it really means a lot."

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @hanjiquokkaaa

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic

[jaykaysthicthighs]

The Path Of A Singer | JJK

excerpt | the appearance of your old lover pops up on tv, and the horrible memories showed itself once again.

genre | heavy angst, cheating, abuse, minor fluff

rating | 18+

warnings | strong language, present & past, toxic relationship, mental & physical abuse, jk cheating, panic attack, alcohol and drug consumption, lots of crying, heartbreaking conversations, jk being vile, lots of yelling, jk manhandles the reader, mention of abusive father, mention of ptsd, reader being selfless (you might not agree with the decisions she's made, but don't hate her; she's a broken person), maybe more

wc | 4K+ (very short)

notes | it's been a hell of a long time since i wrote and posted anything....!!!

my inspiration came from watching the movie insidious: the red door lol. the reason for the mature rating is because of the strong language, the heavy conversations said, and the talks of alcohol and drugs. i want to say that i'm not romanticizing this type of relationship or the behaviors of the characters, i'm just making a story that maybe some people might have gone through. sometimes the decisions made or thought of does not make you a bad/horrible person. everyone had a reason good or bad; you just have try to be understanding. i also tried to make this as heartbreaking as possible, but for some reason i feel like it's not. hopefully it does pull some heartstrings for you guys.

You finally arrived home after an exhausting day of work. Your roommate wasn't home yet, so, luckily for you, you're able to binge eat without the concerned eyes of your friend watching you.

You walked your way to the kitchen and made yourself some sandwiches, you also grabbed some water on the way to the living room. When you made it to the couch, you plopped down heavily. You grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the channels. You came across a channel that was showing a music festival, and without thinking about who might be performing you clicked on it.

The first performer was a group called XG. As they were performing, you happily ate while vibing to their songs. At one point, you started singing as well, not caring that you still had some food in your mouth. If the neighbors were able to hear you, they would probably think someone is dying - yelling for help.

When you finished, you got up put away your dishes, and made your way to your room to change your clothes. As you were changing, you felt a bit lonely. You and your friend don't have any pets, no companion to keep any of you guys company. You exited your room with a simple sweater and shorts.

You made it back to the living room with a content expression on your face, unfortunately, it wouldn't last long. As you were about to get yourself situated on the couch, you looked at the TV screen, and the one person you never wanted to see again was singing.

You fell to your knees with a hard thud, watching the screen with horrid eyes. It's been three years since you saw him. In those three years, you tried your damned hardest to avoid anything and everything that involved him in it. The pain he caused you still resides in your little heart.

You didn't realize but you started crying; the tears rapidly falling. Your body started shaking; the little goosebumps displaying your skin. Your chest felt heavy like a huge wave crashing on you, and the water is rising up into your nose, making it hard for you to breathe. You felt like you were suffocating, and the lack of air was making your head light; dizziness taking its place.

On the outside, you were frozen, but on the inside, you were trying to claw your way out. You felt like you were scratching every surface of your body, but you weren't moving an inch. Your brain was screaming for help, but the only thing leaving your mouth was the hardness and unstableness of your breathing. Right now, you were wishing for your friend to come home right now and save you.

Three Years Ago

You were in your car driving your way to your boyfriend. Jungkook's manager called you demanding that you come and pick him up. You don't really know what happened, but from how his manager sounded, you were thinking that he got himself drunk and high again, causing thoughtless actions.

Not too long ago, Jungkook was able to get into his dream record label. After years and years of hard work, passion, and dedication he was able to pursue his dream. What you didn't realize is that with Jungkook getting to follow his dream of being a singer, he would soon lose his sense of self. In just two weeks he was starting to drink, and in another week, he started experimenting with drugs.

As time went on, so did your patience. You would try and try to stop him - to help him, but every time Jungkook would stop your advances. Pushing you away and causing you pain made Jungkook feel superior, it made him feel proud that he reached a certain height in life.

Your guy's relationship now consists of yelling and crying. Jungkook started to mentally abuse you, but even so, you would accept it. You didn't have the strength to leave him - to leave the man you love since middle school. You couldn't leave the man who would write songs about you, the man who would wake up during dawn and make you a big breakfast, the man who would call you no matter the time, the man who would always tell you how much he loves you every second of the day. You didn't have the strength to leave him.

With all your anger, you finally made it to the studio in one piece. When you entered the building, the looks on the staff's faces were concerning you. One of the staff went up to you and told you to not go inside the studio. You looked at them judgingly and pushed your way through them, but they still tried to stop you.

"What is the problem? Let me through!" you yelled. They gave you a sad look and apologized, "I'm sorry ma'am, but Jungkook is very busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to go inside there." Your anger was boiling, steam coming out of your ears. "Sorry for yelling at you, but I don't fucking care if he is busy. Jonny called me saying that I need to pick this asshole up, okay? If you're worried about me finding out that he is high or drunk - even both, don't. This is not new to me."

The staff in front of you looked like she was on the verge of tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she got the chance, a disheveled woman left the room your boyfriend was in. You watched her with wide eyes as she left the building with a smile on her face. You stomped your way to the studio door ignoring the pleas from the staff. You pushed open the door causing a loud bang, startling the man recognized as Jonny.

Jonny swiftly got up and the first thing you noticed was the bloody nose. You walked your way to him digging in your bag grabbing some tissues for his nose. Gently placing it on him, you politely demanded, "Where is he, Jonny?" The man before you faced his eyes on the floor. "Jonny, you called me here, so, don't fucking hide anything from me. Where is he?"

The man took a step back letting the blood freely fall again. He shook his head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you. I've ruined everything." You gritted your teeth and threw the bloody tissue at his face. "Where the hell is he, Jonny?" you yelled.

A second later, Jungkook swung the bathroom door open with nothing but some sweats on. Your heart dropped from his appearance. It was evident that he had fucked the girl from earlier. You guys made eye contact, and you could tell immediately that he was high out of his mind. "Get out, Jonny," you said without looking.

When you heard the door shut, that's when you crumbled. Your eyes started blurring with the tears that were coming. Your body shaking with rage. You walked up to the fucked-up man and slapped him. "Why? Why? Why the hell would you do this to me?"

Jungkook harshly grabbed your wrists and laughed. He laughed like what you had said was something funny. You can smell the horrible alcohol leaving his mouth as he laughed. "Because it's fun, babe."

The pain rippled throughout your body. You snatched your wrists away and bellowed, "You're hurting me! You're destroying me! What does she have that I don't? I thought you loved me?" Jungkook towered over you; he grinned, "I don't love you." Your whole world died. Never had Jungkook spouted those words. It tore you limb from limb, slowly but surely. And that was all it took for you to call it done.

You were fine dealing with his hurtful ways. You were fine being the punching bag. But you were not fine being cheated on. Even with Jungkook in this fucked-up state, not once had he said that he didn't love you, and not once did he ever cheat on you. You felt lower than before, and you didn't want to feel like that. You knew that the moment he started doing drugs and drinking alcohol, the man you once knew would be gone. Still, you had hoped there might be a tiny sliver of him inside, but today proved - his words proved you wrong.

Your eyes hardened and your expression became stoic. Without trying to sound broken you seethed, "We are done! You fucking hear me? I am done with your shit - with everything!" As you walked your way to the door, Jungkook rushed in front of you and pushed you to the ground.

The wind got knocked out of you; you started bawling your eyes. For the first time, you were scared of the man before you. Jungkook locked the door behind him and dragged you by your feet. You tried kicking your feet, hoping that his release would loosen, and you could run away. But before you knew it, Jungkook locked you both into the soundproof booth.

When his grip on you was gone, you scurried to the corner of the booth shielding yourself with your bag. Jungkook walked to you and kneeled to your level. "Don't hide from me, baby." He gently grabbed your bag and tossed it to the other side of the booth. You closed your eyes; you couldn't see the monster of the man you love.

You felt Jungkook tenderly cupping your jaw. You trembled beneath his fingertips; quietly whimpering. It stayed like this for a few seconds until you felt his touch disappear. With your eyes still closed, you could hear Jungkook digging for something. You heard a rustling sound of a Ziplock bag. You knew better, you knew that he was using drugs right now.

"Open your eyes, ____," Jungkook demanded.

You didn't answer, you didn't move. This pissed off the man in front of you. He slapped you, making your body jolt, making your eyes open. You brought your hand to your cheek, tears threatening to fall. "See, it wasn't that hard?"

"W-what do you want... from me?" you stammered.

Jungkook seethed, "You can't leave me. I won't let you leave me. You owe me. All that money I spent on you, all those years I wasted on you - I want that back! And the only way you can pay me back is by being my bitch. You are fucking mine, ____!"

You finally let the tears fall again. Your whole body shook like lightning shooting throughout you. Shaking your head, you wailed, "No! No! No! Please! Don't do this to me, Dad! Stop hurting me!" For the first time today, Jungkook felt his senses come back. Your words panged his heart.

Your mother was never in your life. It was always you and your father, but your father was an abusive man. He would try to find any little thing to blame you for, just for him to lay his hands on you; from hitting, kicking, even to cutting. You had met Jungkook when you were thirteen years old, he comforted, protected, and helped you. When you finally turned eighteen, that's when you moved in with him - that's when you finally felt peace.

Jungkook cupped your face into place. He frantically said, "____, it's me. Your dad's not here. It's me, Jungkook." His touch burned you; you felt like dying. You mustered all your strength and pushed him away. You gripped your shirt and yelled, "No! You're not him! You're not Jungkook! You're a monster and I don't even recognize you!"

Monster... That simple word rang in Jungkook's mind. Monster... Such a terrifying word. If he was a monster, his reason would be because of you. Unfortunately, all the drugs and alcohol in his system weren't enough to keep him sane for one minute. Jungkook launched at you. His hands wrapped around your throat, choking you, but still letting you breathe.

You started clawing your nails on his bare arms. Digging deep that blood starts making its presence. But all that Jungkook could see right now was red. He couldn't feel the pain you were giving him; he couldn't hear the agony in your voice; he couldn't see your wrecked state. Red became his friend.

"You are the reason for my horrible being. You are the reason why I'm a monster. You bitch! If you hadn't kept pushing me to pursue this fucking career, I would've still been the same. If you hadn't been so loving and caring and supportive, we wouldn't be in this predicament. I can't believe that I fell in love with a disgusting person like you. I can't fucking believe that I let you take control of my whole being!"

Right when you were on the verge of passing out, Jungkook released his hold on you; he backed himself on the other side of the booth. You were catching your breath. Your hands shakingly touched your neck, throbbing against your frail fingers. You were painfully coughing; mentally asking God to help ease your pain. Your eyes went in and out of vision; red and black dots were the only thing in sight.

Jungkook watched you with dark eyes. He watched as you were struggling to regain your previous state. He watched as you were crying from the pain, he inflicted on you. He watched the one person who was always with him, the one person who loved and cared for him no longer be the same. He killed you, painfully and slowly.

Present

"____, look at me. It's okay. It's okay." Your friend Lia gently held your face in place. She called out your name, praying that you would settle. She watched as you were frantically breathing; your eyes looking everywhere but her; your body shaking like the room was freezing.

Your panic attacks rarely happen, but when they do, Lia feels so useless. She wished that she could help ease your pain, she wished that she had the power to prevent this. But all she could do was hold you and tell you that you're okay.

Minutes go by until you are finally back. "____?" Lia cautioned, "____, look at me. Are you okay?" As you looked at Lia, you could see the worried expression painting her beautiful face. You hated yourself for making her feel like this, but you couldn't help it. This feeling will never go away; it gets buried six feet under, but once he appears they come back.

"Lia," you whispered, "I saw him again... on TV." Lia took a deep sigh; she hated the pain he caused you before and now. She wrapped you in her arms, holding you with such care. The second you were in her arms, you broke. You cried and cried, loudly speaking your pain.

Lia felt her shirt dampen, but she didn't care. Whatever you do to her, she will take it all in, as long as you feel better in the end, Lia will gladly be your tissue, your enemy, your punching bag. Lia murmured against your hair, "I'm here. I will always be here." She held you tighter; she didn't want you to fade away from her.

You took deep breaths to calm down your nerves. You pulled away from Lia and made your way to the couch. You brought your knees up and buried your face in the space between. You hissed, "I hate what he does to me. He's not even here!" This time you whispered, "And yet, he's able to bring me down to my knees... scared."

Lia met you three years ago; months after your event. You were just a newly hired TA. When Lia first saw you, you looked like a girl who was barely keeping her life together. You told her beforehand - when you started room mating with her, that you have PTSD and that your panic attacks happen from time to time. You didn't really tell her the whole story, just that you were in a very abusive relationship and that you experienced something so terrifying. She accepted you with an open mind and open arms; from then on, Lia became your rock.

Lia got up and sat right next to you. She wanted to ask you a question, but she was scared that you would hate her or push her away for asking. But this question has been in her mind for a while now. After taking a few seconds thinking to think it through, Lia wiped her sweating palms on her pants and inquired, "____, if you don't mind me asking... why didn't you call the police on him? You should've, 'cause I don't think he should be performing after everything he's done to you."

Your eyes started getting blurry; you told yourself the exact same thing, but there was a reason. With your head still buried, you softly replied, "It's easier said than done, Lia. I wished I called the police on him - I wish I could call the police on him, but I can't. Because in simple words... I love him. I hate myself for loving him. Even after everything he has done to me, and everything he has said to me, I love him. Does that make me a horrible person?"

Lia felt herself invisibly jumping out of the couch. No way does she think you're a horrible person. You're just a person who's been through something horribly traumatic. Her heart was filled with so much pain for you. Lia positioned herself so she was facing your small figure, and expressed, "____, no way in hell are you a horrible person. Far from it! I won't be able to say that I relate or know what you're going through, because I don't. But I am able to say that I'll support you and understand your feelings and decisions."

You lifted your head but still kept your eyes on your knees; you muttered, "I met him when we were thirteen years old. He was a very shy and reserved kid - hated social interactions. I remember..." you quietly giggled without realizing when you were remembering the fond memories, "I remember when he used to make small mixtapes every anniversary with letters. He wasn't always a horrible person. He used to be kind, supportive, and loving. One of my favorite things about him was his selflessness towards me. I loved that he would always think about my needs, what I wanted, what I was thinking, and how I was feeling, but in turn, he did the opposite for himself. It was a blessing and a curse."

Lia looked at you and saw the small smile showing. This look was rare for you, and every time it made its appearance, Lia would always treasure it. "He must have been a great person for you to smile like that." You furrowed your brows; you turned to Lia with confusion. "What smile?" you questioned. Lia rolled her eyes, "Well, there's no smile anymore."

You took a deep sigh and apologized, "I'm sorry for talking about him. It's just - just talking about him in this light makes me happy and warm... even if it only lasts for a few seconds." Lia noticed that you started tearing up. Your face was slightly contorted with pain; you were trying not to cry, holding it in but it didn't work. Your tears were freely falling, and Lia comforted you once again. You quietly whimpered, "During that time I called him a monster, but really, I don't want to remember him as the monster in my life because at one point he used to be my prince who saved me from one. I try to think and talk about him in this beautiful light that he used to be under - I want to remember him as that, but the pain he brought upon me is too hard to ignore." You started wailing at this point, "It continues to haunt me, and I hate it! I want to hate him, but I can't! I can't!"

Lia felt herself crying for your pain. She felt herself slowly dying by your words. It truly kills her that her most precious and beautiful friend is going through so much pain. As you both cried into each other's arms, you could hear Lia continuously apologize through her cries. You were so grateful to have such an amazing person as her.

Once you were calmed down, you pulled away from the still tearful woman and wiped her tears away. "Don't cry anymore, Lia." you sniffled, "What happened to me - what's still happening to me would never be fully cured, but I know that whatever happens next, you'll be by my side, and slowly but surely, I won't be able to be to feel the pain anymore. Okay?" Lia nodded her head with a soft smile. You're right, as long as she's with you and as long as you are with her everything will be fine. You guys are each other's glue - each other's person.

There is no doubt in your mind that this pain will pass by. You don't know how long that will take, but until the day comes, having Lia with you eases your heart from pain as much as possible.

"You mailed her my letter?"

"Yes, Jungkook."

The tired man finished his show with a bang, and even though people enjoyed his performance, Jungkook couldn't seem to feel all that happy. For the past year since he finished his rehab, nothing has felt more depressing.

The morning of that night when he woke up, Jonny had told him that you had left, and he was to go to rehab immediately. He hated you for leaving, he hated that you left him in such a messy state. Jungkook blamed everything on you. Jonny had told the ill man that if it wasn't for you, everything that he had worked so hard on would go down the drain. At first, Jungkook didn't understand why you left or what Jonny was saying, but as time went on, he knew that everything was his fault. His addictions and his abusive behavior were all his fault. The reason for your disappearance was his fault. Your pain - everything was all him.

Jungkook knows that there will be no way for him to fix the things he has done and the things he had said, but even so, he would try his damn hardest to fix it. When he finished rehab, Jungkook made it a mission to send you a letter every week, telling you about his days throughout the week, how much he loves and cares for you, telling you how much he is so regretful. Deep down he knows that he is being selfish, he knows that he should let you go - let you move on, but the helpless man is stuck in the past. The past is what keeps him alive. The past is his only source of reason. Jungkook doesn't want to let go of that one thing he has left of you.

Jonny felt so much pity for the man, he didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't know your address. He would accept the letters, promising that he would mail them, but when night rolls around your letters would be burned. Jonny wanted to quit being Jungkook's manager, but you begged and begged for him to stay with the broken singer. You wanted Jungkook to at least have one person for him to lean on when things get hard. Jonny admires your strength - how strong of a woman you are, so, he agreed.

"You should just stop already, Jungkook. She's never gonna mail you back. I know your reason, but you lost her, and you can never fix that." Jonny was getting tired; tired of seeing the broken singer trying with no prevail.

Jungkook walked up to his manager and lowly whispered, "You think I don't know that, Jonny? Ever since I learned that everything is my fault... I knew that she would never come back to me. Yet I still hope - even if that hope is microscopic or nonexistent, I hope that I will be able to see or be with her again."

The fatigued man took a few steps back and lowered his heavy head down. His eyes searched the floor trying to keep his tears at bay, but it didn't work. The salty tears of this poor singer escaped and landed harshly on the wooden floor. Sniffling, the fatigued man uttered, "You think I don't know that you burn my letters?" Jungkook lifted his head up and saw the ashamed manager looking back at him.

He continued, "You're not as discreet as you think you are, Jonny. I went to your hotel room to ask for a favor... and I saw you burn my eighth letter with sadness swimming in your eyes. I connected the dots from there, and I realized that you never sent any of my letters because you don't know her address, huh? You're left in the dark like I am, huh? You know nothing about her whereabouts, about how she's doing, about anything, huh, Jonny!" The manager kept quiet; didn't know what to say.

Jungkook slumped down on the nearest chair with a hard thump. He leaned his head back with closed eyes and softly whimpered, "I now understand the meaning ‘You reap what you sow’… I'm never gonna stop. I know I can never fix this, but I promise you Jonny, I will never stop. Ten years - fifty years from now, I will keep writing her letters... knowing that deep down all of this is for nothing. I don't care if I'm shaming myself by doing this - I don't care about anything but her. She's not mine anymore but I'm forever hers. Let me live like this. Let me live with the consequences. Let me drown myself in this regret."

The destroyed man opened his eyes and gently moved his head to the side to see the lone figure of his manager feet away. With a deep sigh, Jungkook claimed, "You're just my manager, right? So, don't involve yourself in my pitiful life. Just do the job you were hired to do, along with getting my letters. Don't care what you do to them - burn them, keep them hidden, rip them up... doesn't matter, just don't let me know about it; let me falsely believe that you mailed them to her. Alright? Now please get the car... I wanna go home."

#jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts angst #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #angst #bts imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook x y/n #kpop imagines #imagine #kpop fanfic #kpop angst #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan jungkook #bts jk

[jmdbjk]

3D

I had to let some time pass before I wrote this. The discourse is heated and polarized.

You say: "ABG ... Asian Baby Girl, doesn't mean the same as it used to" ... it might not for you but it is rooted in misogyny and racism. Does that mean the n-word doesn't mean what it used to? Or the word bitch, cunt or whore? It's ok to use those words too when rapping about women? What about fag or fairy? Ok? No. Not okay.

You do you, Boo, but:

"The ongoing oppression of women is enshrined in religious, legal, political, educational, and employment systems and structures. An equivalent level of systemic and structural oppression has not been experienced by the current generation of white men in America. "

You can read the article this excerpt is from here.

My first impression upon listening/watching the first time: I did not like it because of fugly white boy, Jack Harlow. I've never liked him, I've never liked his lyrics or his vibe. He is the type of overdone, asshole misogynistic male bullshit rap that had become unavoidable for a while.

I don't have ANY problem with JK singing about sex, having sex, shooting his jizz to the sky or any of that. BRING. THAT. ON. I don't care if the song is about phone sex or masturbating on camera or whatever.

What I do have a problem with is a white guy saying one girl (the black girl) is boring but two girls (add the white girl) is cool. I have a problem with the concept of having women lined up ready to fuck as some sort of thing to laud. And they are all dressed alike, so that means he doesn't care about them, they're all the same. Just another pussy to fuck. Diversity, yay. Not.

I will listen to the alternate version of the song but I will never listen to or stream the version with the rap.

I love Jungkook. I love that he's exploring his sound. He is creating music that speaks to him RIGHT NOW in his career. Do I like that he's put this song out? No. But that's my own personal opinion.

I can't speak for Jungkook, a 26 year old Korean man. He has his own systemic and structural oppressions to deal with.

I am not going to second guess him. He will see the feedback and take it into consideration, I don't have to guess on that, I know he will. They all see what goes on.

I wanted to give JK the benefit of the doubt with Seven. I don't have a problem with Seven the song, but its the hype surrounding it that is perpetuated by the fandom that he is being pushed in the western market. This song proves it.

All that being said, BTS and each individual member all exist within an industry that is heavily influenced by the western market.

As such, every song each member releases will add to the colors that the team will be able to use when they come back together as a group. No one will be surprised if BTS utilizes a hardcore western rapper in the future now. It is just one more color in the mix.

But as my friend says: "Shoot for another Coldplay....They don't need to be lifting people up. They need to find peers. Which is why I would support a Lady Gaga collab with Tae. Which is why Hobi asked for J Cole. That's a peer, man. I can handle Pharrell with them.

The benchmark for peers, to me, is another artist who has nothing to gain from collab'ing with them. An artist who holds their own, on their own, and collabs to let each participant have fun, shine, and grow a bit. Not some newbie who needs the boost. The only exception to that would be if they worked with one of their juniors at Hybe."

And now I move on from this.

#jungkook 3d #glossing over it is fucked up #its not ok #he's a 26 year old grown ass man #i need to let him be #i still love you kookie pookie #the fact the lyrics on the black girl says too boring #and then two girls is cool when the white girl is there #no one even talking about the shrooms in the room lmao

[jlfletcher]

All I Really Want Is You

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: bullet wounds, mentions of potential death (no one dies, just a small injury during a mission). This is told in 3rd person limited POV (of Miguel, mostly?). One-sided kind of. Reader can speak Spanish (is that considered a warning?).

Summary: This is how it all began for Miguel. From mere coincidence to something more. (Fluff/Romance)

Excerpt: "He realizes something and it’s arguable in his mind... Out of all the Spiders, you’re the anomaly."

A/N: This narrative is actually repurposed from my friend's spidersona story. It didn't have any romance in it originally but my version does and the more I wrote, the more it diverged from their initial story. They said they liked this version and gave me the go ahead to post it because they'll probably never share their's anyway.

Special thank you to my friend who edited this thing. I'm grateful that they were able to help me turn my messy notes and ramblings in a cohesive story.

I get really inspired by music. So, if I do continue to publish installments of this story, they'll most likely be written with songs included.

Also, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. I've never had to format such a long post like this on here before.

Word Count: 13.9k (This is a slow burn)

Breakdown

I'm overworking 'til the sundown

Don't see the light inside my head now

There’s a faint buzzing sound that fills Miguel’s workspace. His eyes are a bit bloodshot and itchy from his lack of blinking. He’s grown irritated by now after hours of surveillance and Lyla badgering him to just take a break already. He keeps swatting her away with languid flicks of his wrist while sighing and rubbing his temple. There’s an ache in his head that’s dull yet ever-present but he feels like rest will not come to him anytime soon. He also remembered that he wanted to run diagnostics on a few of his lab’s systems that would ultimately take a while. The testing is usually run automatically but he’s disabled the scheduled maintenance cycle in order to have tasks to do when he's restless like now. Unfortunately for Miguel’s overactive mind, things have mellowed out in the multiverse for the time being. He's been trying to fill his time as he waits for something, anything to happen. It's caused him to grow a bit on edge as of late. Yes, there are still plenty of anomalies to be dealt with but he’s found the late hours to have grown more quiet. It seems that the uncharacteristic silence has planted an eerie feeling in him that he just can’t shake. What if the moment he steps away, something arises? Lyla calls him paranoid but truthfully, he can’t take the risk of complacency.

Eventually, he plops into his chair and prepares to stare at the monitors for another who knows how many hours. He glances over the society’s various CCTV displays in a sluggish attempt at monitoring the building. Yet, something catches his attention. His eyes zero in on a lone figure in the engineering lab. He blinks a bit slowly and scoots closer to take a better look while disregarding the buttons on the control panel in front of him that actually allows him to zoom in on the feed. The thought had completely escaped his foggy brain thanks to his chronic sleep deprivation. Languidly, his eyes flicker to the time and back up. 4:13 am.

I need to see you in my window

There’s not a doubt in Miguel’s mind about what or more accurately who it may be. It’s your form hunched over the workbench. Your signature pair of shoes gives you away entirely. Frankly, it’s not a surprise at this point. This may be the fourth or fifth time he's noticed your presence at such an unorthodox hour. You always tend to stay late at HQ because of your own odd sleeping schedule. He’s overheard you mention to Jess that your universe has a slight daytime shift compared to the others but he didn’t consider it to be by this much. This was nonetheless a preferred choice of company, albeit in an entirely different area of the building from him, because you're quiet and focus on your work. He's not entirely sure if the two of you have interacted for more than a single minute. Perhaps, that's why he prefers you over others. He's never actually spoken to you outside of very few mission assignments and reports. You've caught his eye before. At first, he noticed you were a bit too quiet. It initially caused suspicion to sew itself within his brain. However, after a brief investigation into you performed by Lyla, he concluded that it's simply the way you behave. Now, when you catch his eye he assumes it's due to how you carry yourself relative to others, professional and efficient. Despite the distance between you two, both figurative and literal in this moment, he finds himself watching you through one of the many floating windows before him. His fingers finally slither among the control panel to switch to a different camera in the lab. After flicking through a couple of feeds, the screen changes to an angle that shows your face. Perhaps he's a bit too tired in this instance because his hazy brain barely registers the way his breath hitches in his throat momentarily.

He's seen your bare face only once before and it summoned the same reaction from him. He's taken aback by how you look. It's a bit of a surprise in all honesty. You're so, for lack of a better term, different. And that's not claimed in some common colloquial way. You are literally different. Here at the society, a handful of faces are circulated between the Spiders. However, yours is unique and undoubtedly you. He's only ever come across one of you, the one that's sitting and tinkering in one of his labs. The last and only time he saw your bare face was a fleeting glance before you quickly shoved your mask back on. He assumes you're a bit shy because of it. However, now he can take his time to really analyze your features. He sees how your brows pinch in concentration and how your eyes look a bit red. Ah, it appears you haven't been blinking properly like him either. He sees how your tongue gently swipes out from your mouth before you nip at your bottom lip. Your hands work on repairing a circuit board with your eyes focused on the corrosion you wipe off. He watches you for a while as you work, finding intrigue in the way you do such mundane tasks as repairing a PCB and reassembling a gadget. Eventually, you sit up and stretch a bit, before rubbing your face in what he collects as either exhaustion or boredom. He understands the feeling, truly. Yet his eyes widen a bit as your eyes look at the camera and he finds himself perking up when he sees you smile. He then zooms out to see that you’re conversing with Lyla. Despite the quick misunderstanding, he finds himself enjoying the scene before him. You speak to her so calmly and casually. Do you often speak with her? Many thoughts start to pop up in his mind about you and your overall enigmatic behavior. Your smile triggers hyperactivity to blossom in his mind, his thoughts reeling at the way you look. Your lips pinch together softly as one side of your mouth curls a bit more than the other. Your brows raise as you speak with Lyla, your contentment is evident. He's caught up in the details of your face and it's nearly instinctual the way the corners of his lips twitch in a subconscious attempt to mirror yours.

And I whisper

All I really want is you

What would you do?

He has formed this habit of watching you in the late nights and early mornings. At first, it was mere coincidence when his eyes lingered on you, maybe even out of some sense of caution, but now he finds himself seeking you out after a month of noticing your constant presence. Lyla teased him about being a creep but he usually just replies with a grunt or the occasional snarky comment. Every night you’re working on something and his curiosity is piqued. However, it appears you work efficiently given how it seems to be a new project every few nights or so. His eyes flutter a bit as he sees Lyla appear next to you. Judging by the way you react to her arrival, it’s just for a chat. He notices how your hands rest over one another in front of you as you nod at what Lyla says, laughing and blinking softly at her. You’re polite when listening, putting down whatever you’re working on to give her your attention. The only assumption he's made from it being that you're simply kind. His eyes are attracted to the way your thumbs twiddle around one another absentmindedly. Do you often fidget like that? He tries to think back on the previous times he witnessed your hands when they were not busy, which is not a common occurrence. And as he watches you, he strokes the panel button under his own thumb subconsciously as if it were the back of your hand. He’s only managed to conclude one thing about them and it’s not about how you fidget.

He mutters to himself deeply in observation, “Pequeñas.”

He looks at your hands, pixelated by the monitor, and then down at his own much bigger ones. He ponders momentarily about just how small they truly are. He's certain that if he were to measure them, the entire length would barely reach 7 inches while his are well past 9, probably even past 10 in actuality. If you placed your palm against his, his hand would completely dwarf yours. If you placed your palm against his... what would it fit like? What would it feel like? What would you do if he held your hand? Wait… why is he thinking about that?

“But,” he mumbles softly as he watches you walk off with Lyla in tow, “I think…”

Laying in the rain with you

Middle of June

It’s been two months since he fully took notice of you that night with his full attention; the night he seen you truly as yourself for the first time. From what Lyla has mentioned, you’ve been here almost every night since you joined the society. It doesn’t bother him that he hadn’t noticed you for so long. To him, it made sense. He often found himself drowned in work. Things were hectic for a while, a long while, but luckily during these past few months, things have been relatively easy. Emergency missions in the middle of the night have been few and far between and usually required only one person to complete them which is why Miguel has been manning the fort all by his lonesome for some time now. However, the only other spider permitted to be at HQ during the overnight hours is you thanks to your completely reversed day-night schedule. The two of you have been on a handful of late night missions together throughout this time but he has yet to speak to you about anything not regarding work. It’s a bit strange if he’s being truthful. You may be the only spider that has never spoken to him casually, ever. Sure, he’s suspected you are antisocial but he hadn’t anticipated it to be by this much. You don’t stand out, you stay focused on your work, and you never talk to anyone. Well, that last one isn’t too unbelievable given the fact that you’re only ever here when everyone else isn’t. Miguel can’t help but wonder if you have ever spoken to anyone in the Society without the intention of completing your professional duties? The closest to such an instance was the one time he heard you speak to Jess which was also the first time he had ever seen you. Jess was going to introduce you to him but he was busy having an argument with Hobie. It never grew to be physical but his shouting certainly must have put you off considering he never saw you around again after that. It makes sense, truthfully, since that was your first impression of him. You must think he's always shouting, irritated, and highly intolerant of disobeying his instruction. That is what he was yelling about at the time after all. Well, that is until he noticed you lingering around the building at night. Honestly, you weren’t even a thought in his mind until Lyla sent him a debriefing of you just before Jess officially assigned you to the night shift. He was going to protest, citing that you have no meritorious experience to do so or something like that but he found out that you don’t actually bother him like everyone else. However, he’s grown very aware of your presence as of late thanks to his more unoccupied overnight schedule.

He even has time to just sit and think about anything other than the multiverse now. Usually, this spare time is occupied by observing you. He likes to sit back and watch all the tasks you do with no one around. He finds it relaxing in a way, which is something he’s grateful for. He’s discovered many things about you through this newfound hobby. You tilt your head with a small pout when you’re confused. You often have music stuck in your head which is made evident by the way you nod your head rhythmically. You rub your face with both hands when you’re tired and only one hand when you’re bored. You like to take power naps under the workbench specifically in the left corner of the lab, closest to the door. You usually wear civilian clothing around HQ at night but always wear the same shoes. You don’t like coffee. You drink tea but it has to be hot with steam billowing from the cup. You drink water more often than tea though, but only at room temperature. You crack your knuckles in 30-minute intervals when you type or tinker for long periods of time. You yawn frequently when the air-conditioner is pointed at you… The list could go on. Honestly, he’s a bit taken aback by how much knowledge he’s retained of your behavior and mannerisms. Why is that exactly? He can’t just claim outright boredom. Watching you is something he avidly chooses to do because he likes it. Bored certainly isn't the word he'd use to describe how observing you makes him feel.

“Why am I doing this?”, he mutters deeply as his eyes watch you type away on a computer. Maybe it’s like a child with an ant farm. It’s simply interesting. No, that doesn’t quite sound right. Even ‘interesting’ doesn’t truly capture how he feels watching you every night.

Soon a bright search window pops up in front of him, making him flinch aggressively. “Lyla!”, he shouts in annoyance as he rubs his stinging eyes; already knowing the culprit.

She pops up next to him with a shrug, “What? You asked a question and I’m answering it.”

He squints softly, his eyes focusing on the window presented to him. There are multiple articles listing words that make him furrow his brows. Intrigue, infatuation, sonder, escapism, comfort-watching. To Lyla’s surprise, he mulls them over but she chalks it up to his sleep deprivation. Some words stick out to him, finding himself unfamiliar with them.

“Comfort-watching.”, he states slowly as he selects the article. It explains what it is and what it stems from, denoting its connection to escapism. “The habitual diversion of the mind to purely imaginative activity or entertainment as an escape from reality or routine.”, he reads aloud, words muffled by his hand stroking his chin. Well, that didn’t make sense, watching you is his routine at this point.

He wouldn’t describe what you do as entertainment in theory and it’s certainly not imaginative. It’s just him watching how you do normal things. He softly chews his lip as he glosses over the other articles.

Lyla mimics his actions and strokes her chin, opening another article in front of her form. “Oh? This’ll be interesting.”, she thinks before speaking to Miguel, who’s now distracted by both the articles and his occasional glances at you. “Why do you like watching y/s/n?” [your spider name]

He replies with a sigh as he waves his hands around, positioning the articles around him, “That's what I’m trying to figure out, Lyla.”

“Just think for a moment. Off the top of your head, what’s one thing you like about doing this?”, she gestures to the monitor containing you. The two of them glance at you through one of the screens standing from your seat and stretching your whole body in an attempt to reduce your exhaustion.

Miguel’s inquisitive eyes soften a bit as he responds earnestly, “It’s familiar.” Lyla’s face flashes a bit in curiosity as she observes his expression. Before she can speak again, he continues, “This is calm and… warm.”

“Warm?”, Lyla asks curiously, her eyes fluttering over the chart in the article she opened. She's notated a couple of checkmarks now, in places she hadn't expected.

His eyes just can’t leave you as he thinks about what he’s said. It’s hard to put exactly into words, “I… appreciate her presence. She’s always there and it makes me feel comfortable.” There’s a strange feeling that stirs inside him upon hearing the words he formulates in response. You, a complete stranger, have somehow become a totem of routine in his eyes. Because after watching you nearly every night, you are always there working. Always. Despite the strange and unpredictable multiverse the two of you reside in, you sit in one of his labs, typing away on a computer. In a sense you’ve become the embodiment of normal.

Lyla repeats quietly but not lacking the casual tone she usually holds, “Her… Do you ever want to talk to y/s/n?”

He hums in thought before replying with an unsure shrug, “Honestly… I never even considered that. I don’t think I need to.”

Lyla glances back at the article and then back to Miguel, “But do you want to?”

His movements stall as her question hangs in the air. He takes a moment to apprehend what she’s asking. His eyes trail slowly from the articles floating around him to you on the CCTV display. You're crawling under that specific workbench in the left corner of the lab for what he knows is a power nap; he finds himself almost smiling at that. Does he want to talk to you? He ponders a situation in which he finds himself conversing with you casually. What would you talk about? He knows you like tea. Would you talk about your favorite kind? What is your favorite kind? How would you pronounce it? How do you pronounce certain words like caramel or aluminum? Maybe like aluminium? Maybe you say it differently than he does. He can imagine a light-hearted debate over phonetics, the two of you drowsy from the late night hours. Maybe you’ll tease him about the way he says it. How would you say… his name? You’ve spoken his name before on missions with a professional tone, always addressing him by his surname. It irks him a bit but he's never gotten around to informing you to just call him Miguel… How would you sound calling out to him in a tone that's amicable and familiar?

He’s broken out of his thoughts by Lyla waving her pixelated arms in front of him and a shout of his name, “Miguel!” He jolts at the sound of an alarm beeping around him. Bold words pop out in front of him, “ANOMALY DETECTED”. He hears his family name called out and straightens at the sound. That’s not Lyla's voice. He turns around to see you in your suit, tucking the hem of your mask into your collar as you trek to his platform. His hand waved behind him, minimizing the displays floating around him to hide the clues to his distraction with a single motion.

He hears you speak in a sober tone as you stand before him, “Lyla informed me that we’re both needed for this one. There’s an anomaly running around a metropolitan area on Earth-26. It travels quickly so we'll have to chase after it. Also, there doesn’t appear to be anyone to help.” He nods quickly, navigating through the multiversal map on his watch to open a portal. He nearly flinches as you gently grasp his forearm, looking up at him slowly.

“O'Hara,” you said calmly, which made him look at you curiously, “full stealth on this one. I’m uncertain how this universe would respond to… our kind.”

His lips nearly press into his natural pout under his mask as you address him by his family name but quickly absorbs what you're truly saying to him. He’s had a couple run-ins with a universe like this before and understands your concern entirely. He slowly pulls your hand from his forearm. The size difference doesn’t skip past him and makes something buzz in the back of his brain. Yet it’s subconscious, the way his fingers linger around yours before he releases them and states firmly, “Stay close to me.” You nod in understanding which he reciprocates before opening a portal. You flip open your watch and quickly calibrate your interface and send sync data to his watch to stay connected during the mission. It’s strange how ready you appear to be but it’s greatly appreciated. He hadn’t realized that he was staring before you turned towards him. You tilt your head softly and unbeknownst to you, he knows without a doubt that it’s out of curiosity. He gives you a nod, hoping it didn’t look as strange as he felt doing it. You step through the portal first and he’s quick to follow after as Lyla observes it all with an inquisitive squint.

All I really want is you

This was an uncommon feeling. You two chased after the anomaly, zipping through the sleeping city's skies quickly. Luckily, you both haven’t been spotted by anyone as you swing through the late-night drizzle. He started feeling a bit… he supposes ‘at ease’ is the best way to put it. He’s not foolish enough to grow complacent mid-mission but being on mission with you, working so seamlessly with him, made this feel easy. You’re professional, giving clear cues and staying on the same page. It’s as if you can hear what he’s thinking. Sure lego Spider-man is a good teammate but you’re a good partner.

The anomaly made its way to a rooftop with you right on its tail. You landed quickly with a soft roll before keeping low to the ground while Miguel landed behind you with a soft grunt. You crouched a bit as you tiptoed around gently, trying not to alarm the anomaly located somewhere nearby. He waits on standby, keeping a lookout for anyone who might see you two while you try to catch the small creature. You freeze as you see the silhouette of it, patting the ground with stubby limbs, seemingly ready to take flight again. That is until you squat down and pat the ground too. It looks at you and tilts its head, another action that you mimic before removing your mask. It slowly walks to its right and you gently shuffle to your left. You release a chuckle as you can see something that looks like a tail wagging. The noise meets Miguel’s ears and he turns to find you squatting and maskless. His eyes widen at the sight, fighting the hitch in his breath as he sees your h/c hair, it looks much softer in person. His eyes narrow is realization as he quickly replaces his intrigue with his usual pragmatism.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he speaks monotone, “What are you doing?”

You release a slow and soft, “Shhhh.” You then gently raise your hand, motioning him to approach you. His fingers twitch instinctively as he looks at your flopping hand and surprises himself by reaching out for it. However, his mellow emotions are doused in confusion as you tug him down quickly. He nearly falls on top of you, clearly not anticipating such sudden strength from you. Luckily, he manages to brace himself, kneeling behind you, and leaning a bit over your shoulder. He’s about to ask what the hell you’re doing when you point to the far corner of the rooftop. His eyes widen as he watches the dark creature slowly slink toward the two of you.

You breathe out quietly to Miguel, “Deactivate your mask.” He turns to you in shock despite you not looking at him. He’s about to protest before you whisper, “It needs to see your face.”

He acquiesces your command and slowly retracts his mask. The air nips at his warm face as he spies the creature tilting its head. You tilt your head too while whispering to him, “Mimic what it does.”

Miguel begins to protest but you quickly cut off his words, “Why-?”

“Just do it.” He nearly rolls his eyes at your sudden command but finds himself following suit as he tilts his head too. He watches curiously as the creature pats the ground with its left paw and you mirror it with your right hand. He grows a bit amused watching the two of you continue this little dance until it slowly crawls closer to you both. Miguel can hear your breath hitch as the creature steps into the light shining from over the door to the rooftop you all are on. It’s dark and covered with scales, with large blue eyes and bat-like wings. Your hand is still placed on the ground as the creature cautiously closes the distance between you. You cautiously turn your hand palm up, Miguel is confused by this but continues to watch nonetheless. The creature's eyes look up at you warily with tightly constricted pupils. You then turn your head, facing away from it and toward Miguel quickly. He barely manages to lean back enough to avoid you smacking your head into his shoulder.

He looks at you quizzically as you whisper to him, “Keep your eyes on me.” His brows furrow which indicates his clear confusion at your command. You respond cautiously yet softly, “Don’t look it in the eyes. It’s still scared.” Miguel slowly nods in understanding as his eyes stay on yours. 

There’s something that fizzles in his ears as he stares at you. Your eyes are oddly… calming. He’s never thought of looking at them before. At least not in an intentional way like this, unlike the usual polite eye contact you’re obligated to give someone you work with. It's so strange seeing you in person up close like this. He also has to fight the heat he feels making its way onto his cheeks at your close proximity. Your eyes sparkle a bit from the dim moonlight and there's drops of rain littered around your hair. You look so soft and inviting. There's not a sliver of malice anywhere across your features. He's sure this small anomaly is smart enough to come to you.

Soon he feels his lungs quiver in his chest as he watches your eyes crinkle as you smile. You’re chuckling. Why are you chuckling? His ears are roaring by the time you turn back toward the creature. His gaze lingers on the side of your face before looking down at the little one who’s currently licking and nuzzling into your hand, giving it playful nips. He smiles at that, grateful that this mission will end easier than expected.

The creature jumps on you and licks your face with a happy warble. Miguel tenses, worried that it may be attacking you until you release a giggle as you coo warmly, slowly standing with the creature wrapped in your arms. The sound tingles in Miguel's ears and he can’t help but watch you almost mesmerized as you carry the creature carefully before he stands back up next to you.

You comfort the creature with soft words as your nimble fingers quickly fashion a tracker to the little beast then click your watch. You speak calmly as you stare down at the baby creature with a smile, “Lyla, may you please check for any residual anomalies?” Lyla appears behind the creature and gives you a little salute before her visage flits around and scans the area. Miguel approaches to inspect the animal but leans back when it attempts to sniff at him which makes you chuckle at his stiffness. Then, you gently scratch between the animal’s horns as you walk closer to him to let it smell him properly. He stands awkwardly, watching its nostrils flare with each sniff of his arm.

You look around at the skyline behind him with a sigh, “What a view. Do you ever-”. Your voice fades off quickly as you squint, looking at something in the distance. Miguel notices as your hand stops moving and you cradle the creature protectively. Before he can even look at you, you shout while shoving him to the ground roughly, “Sniper!”. You yelp as something pierces your forearm violently, making your knees wobble. The creature jumps out of your hold, having sensed your body going limp before you slump into Miguel’s arms. The creature nuzzles into your dangling hand with a sad whine.

Miguel immediately enters high alert. He stays low as shots ring out above you, dragging you behind a structure to obstruct you all from whatever the hell is attacking. You're slumped against him as he shakes you softly with a tense voice, patting your face anxiously, “Y/s/n? Y/s/n wake up!” He sees the creature standing on its hind legs pawing at your thigh, looking up at him with scared eyes. Miguel shouts out into the air, “Lyla!” Immediately, a portal opens in front of you three.

Lyla speaks in a rushed tone, looking down at you worriedly, “I didn’t detect any more anomalies. Hurry.” Miguel scoops up both you and the anomaly, holding you tight as he jumps through the portal quickly.

What would you do?

Sleeping outside, the moon

Tripping with you

Miguel’s quick as he carries you to the med bay, the anomaly’s little legs trying to keep up with his long, wide strides. He places you on a bed and pulls up a med pod. He runs a full scan of your body and finds a bit of relief when it is concluded that you got dosed with a tranquilizer but he’s still tense. Usually a tranq doesn’t work that instantaneously; nor does it cause a strong shift in your blood pressure like this… It’s almost as if it’s thinned your blood. He sanitizes and gloves up quickly before grabbing some supplies to remove the projectile lodged in your arm. Fortunately, it doesn't take too long to remove all the pieces of the dart that broke apart. There's a bad feeling in his stomach as he does. He's never seen a tranq dart do such a thing. Why is it so fragile? Miguel has Lyla analyze the fragments while he cleans the wound.

He steals a glance at the little creature sitting in the doorway, its eyes watching you intently. He speaks evenly as he floods the wound with saline, gently patting it dry, “Don’t worry, she’s okay. She’s just sleeping.” He finishes wrapping your arm gingerly with a bandage and pulls the bed sheet over you, raising each of your arms to rest over the sheet. He stares at your hand in his for a moment. It’s warm. Your hands are warm and tiny compared to his. So, that’s how they feel… He blinks himself out of his thoughts and gently sets your hand down by your side to let you rest.

“You can come over. I’m done but she won’t be awake for a while.” Miguel says before looking over at the little beast. He’s almost surprised when it appears to understand what he’s said. After all, you did mention during the mission that it seemed highly intelligent relative to other wild animals. It stands, slowly trudging over before hopping onto the bed beside your leg. It looks at you and then turns to crawl on you cautiously as if it’s afraid of hurting you. After a few moments of hesitation, it pats the bed, circling a few times before settling down between your feet. Finally, it rests its chin on your leg, looking at you with large eyes while its tail curls around itself, and releases a soft bleat.

The display of how gentle it acts with you nearly makes him scoff in disbelief. It’s hard to believe that this is the same angry little beast that tried to claw at him earlier in the night. He's almost offended, truthfully. Why was it so mean to him? It seems to act like a cat, aggressive one moment then clingy the next. Miguel's eyes drift back up to look at you as he works around the room. He thinks for a moment to himself, "I guess between the two of us, I'd go to her too." He shakes the thoughts from his head. Miguel plops back onto the stool beside your bed with a sigh, having just finished cleaning up the soiled supplies. He yawns and scratches his jaw tiredly before he crosses his arms over his chest. The adrenaline that was once in his body is now long gone and his prior exhaustion floods him tenfold. However, he’s able to mutter with droopy eyes that watch your peaceful sleeping face, “What were you going to ask me?” He soon couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, his body feeling heavy and slowly slumping over as he drifted off to sleep. 

Head down

Miguel groans as he feels something slimy on his forehead. He squints harshly at the light that penetrates his eyelids but before he can get up to stretch he freezes at what he hears.

"Hey, hey. Don't do that, little one. He needs to rest."

He's about to just sit up to explain that it's too late but your voice breaks through with a gentle coo. "Oh. Look what you did, honey. You messed it up…"

Before his mind can propel itself into countless thoughts of hearing you say the pet name in such an endearing way, he feels something gently card through his hair. There's something that erupts down his spine at the sensation and that faint fizzling in his ears returns. Especially when he can feel your fingers graze against his helix as you sweep some strands of his hair behind it. He feels his body melt at your ministrations.

Now, he chooses not to move or open his eyes. He pretends to be asleep on what he can blindly tell is the edge of the bed you’re resting in. He enjoys this, the sound of your voice as you comfort and hush the little anomaly the two of you caught. He hears sad warbling and feels the bed move a bit. He manages to cautiously crack an eye open to peek at you cradling the creature close as it sniffs and licks your bandage gently.

You speak softly to it, "Hey, shh-shh. It's okay, I'm okay. See?" You poke the bandage, not where the wound is but the edge of it, to prove that it's fine. You point at Miguel which causes him to shut his eyes quickly before you speak again, "He protected me and helped me get better. So, it's okay." He feels the bed shift as you quietly chuckle, "Ah, ah. Don’t do that, love. I don't want to wake him up, he was really tired." He can sense you stopping the creature from approaching him further as you stand.

There's a soft shuffle that can be heard around him before he feels something drape over his shoulders. You speak so delicately near his ear as you cover him, “Thank you for taking care of me. Sweet dreams.”

He hears the rustling of fabric and the soft plodding of your feet along the floor accompanied by your voice, "Okay, baby. Let's go." Miguel's eyes peek open to see you walking out of the infirmary with the little creature trotting next to you.

Once you’re gone he turns his head, pulling the fabric off his back. It's your cardigan. The one that you were wearing earlier before the mission. His eyes still feel heavy as he bunches up the fabric under him. His nose is flooded with a scent he's unused to. It smells warm and comfortable and soon he drifts off again with his arms wrapped securely around your cardigan below his head.

That’s what you are, he thinks. Warm and comfortable.

I don't know when to come up for air now

It's been a couple of days since your e-26 mission together and you haven't spoken since. Like usual, you spend the night in the lab and Miguel busies himself with some backlogged reports. However, his eyes still glance over to the monitor displaying you occasionally. He's noticed that you haven't worked as much as before. Sure, you’ve tinkered with a few things but you mostly just write in a notebook and slump over the workbench now. He pauses to inspect your face then switches to a camera angle that shows what you're writing. Oh. You're not writing, you're sketching something. He zooms in to see a picture of the anomaly you two sent back after Miguel woke up that morning. Just as he thought, you were depressed because your little friend had to go back home. That’s a lie, he hadn’t actually thought of that at all. Truthfully, he was starting to grow concerned that something was wrong with you… He watches as you add detail to the eyes, the tip of your pencil faintly tracing along the paper to simulate each streak across its irises. It's this that reminds him of when he stared into your eyes. They're much richer than expected, drowned in a color that is so… you. It's you because it's comforting and relaxing and deep. Comfortable and warm. He remembers the words with a soft hum.

He catches something bright appearing next to you. It's Lyla. He's found that you two converse almost every night. What do you two talk about? How many things have you discussed? There’s something unknown that bubbles in the pit of his stomach as these thoughts fill his head. Eventually, his curiosity gets the best of him and he switches on the audio feed. The thought of this being a violation of your privacy, completely slipping past him. He gently sits down as he listens to the two of you talk.

"Raon? What does it mean?", Lyla questions curiously.

You rest your chin on your hand as you lean against the table, looking up at Lyla with a warm smile as you reply, "It means joyful. He looks just like… ah, it’s nothing." You trailed softly but soon chuckled with a wave of your hand.

The scene before him makes Miguel smile softly to himself. It’s such a mundane conversation yet he finds enjoyment from it. Especially from the soft chuckle that comes from you. 

"Hey, did you ever get around to-" Lyla begins but is cut off by your quick response.

"Nope… sorry.", You apologize with a bow of your head, realizing you interrupted her, "I should probably soon, huh?"

"Uh, yeah. The window of validity is closing, bud.", Lyla conjures up a window beside her before shutting it slowly as she raises a brow at you.

You nod and sigh, standing from your seat before turning to leave, "You're right. Thanks for reminding me, Lyla."

She hums to you before disappearing off the screen. She soon pops up next to Miguel who’s watching the feed of you walking through a corridor. She leans over his shoulder and speaks near his ear, "Stalker much?"

Miguel jolts at that and quickly exits off the camera display. He grunts and pulls some reports in front of him in a feeble attempt to cover up what he was doing, "I'm not a stalker."

She smirks and sings with an almost smug tone, "Ah, c'mon. It's just a joke, Miguel. Don't pout."

He states evenly as his eyes glance over the files presented before him, “Not pouting.”

“You never answered my question, y’know?”

“What question?”

“Do you want to talk to y/s/n?” She emphasizes her words with raised brows as she slowly orbits around his head to face him.

He blinks in thought, recalling the recent mission. You’re unfinished words wading upon the surface of his mind and truthfully they have been in his thoughts ever since you first uttered them into the night air. It wasn’t in your usually professional tone. It sounded more casual and unfortunately, you were cut short before finishing your sentence. “Do you ever… Do I ever what?”, he muses as his fingers rub at the side of his chin. He nods slowly before mumbling, “Yes… I think I do.”

Lyla bends down to smirk smugly at him with her arms akimbo, “Good.”

He squints at her and voices his confusion, “What do you mean? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“O’Hara?”, he stiffened as his eyes went wide at the sound of your voice. He composes himself quickly with a low grunt before turning to you.

Unfortunately, you misunderstand this, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“You’re not interrupting me. I just remembered something. Did something happen?”

You absorb his fast-paced sentences, “No, I just wanted to talk to you.”

He’s shocked by this but his face doesn’t show it. If only you knew of the discussion you just interrupted by coming here.

“I wanted to formally thank you for taking care of me.”, you spoke calmly while looking up at him on his platform. He noticed your hand resting over your bandaged arm, confusion taking over his features. You noticed this and looked down at your arm too, nodding before your gaze returned to him. You subconsciously rub the bandage as you speak, “Ah, this. I don’t… heal as quickly as the rest of you.”

He mulls over your words, the rest of you. You speak in a way that alienates yourself from the Spiders. It’s a phrase he can understand due to him constantly being put in his own category relative to the other spider-people. Other… He supposes he speaks about himself the same as you. So that’s that sense of familiarity explained, albeit partially. He asks with his naturally stoic expression, “Why is that?” He watches with furrowed brows as you think of how to respond.

You softly shake your head with a shrug, “I just don’t.”

Before either of you can speak again, Lyla questions while pointing at you next to Miguel. There’s a small smirk on her face, “Hey, y/s/n? What’s that?” Miguel looks at her curiously before looking down at the box in your hands.

“Oh, this is just… This is for you, O’Hara.”, you take a step forward towards his platform. Miguel’s brows shoot up not only at what you say but at his now descending platform. He looks over to Lyla who smirks at him, clearly the cause. He clears his throat as his workspace reaches your level, “Is it something to sign off on?” He thinks that maybe you’re ready to beta-test new equipment that needs approval first.

You shake your head and hand the box to him with a small smile, “No. This is a thank you.”

He furrows his brows again as he slowly opens the box with his words trailing off, “A thank you?...” It’s… they’re empanadas. You just gave him a box of empanadas as a thank you? 

“I heard Jess mention you liked empanadas. Sorry, they’re not the ones from the cafeteria though.”

He stares at them for a few more seconds. They’re warm. Are they fresh? How? It’s almost 3 am. Did you pick them up from your universe? “You didn’t have to give me this. I didn’t really-”

“You saved my life.” His eyes widen a bit as they meet yours. Ah. So you found out…

Your hands wring together nervously as you speak, “Lyla showed me the analysis of the fragments you pulled from my arm. Etorphine is a strong agent as is but it was formulated into a high-dose soluble projectile. If you hadn’t helped me so quickly, it would have dissolved into my blood and…”

“Thank you.”, Miguel all but whispers with his head down.

“You don’t have to thank me for thanking yo-”

“You took that shot for me.”, he quickly cuts you off. His eyes slowly trailing up to meet yours with firm sincerity. “Why did you take that shot?”

You rub your nape as you avoid his gaze and reply in an almost soft voice, “Ah. I didn’t really think about it… my body just moved on its own.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence that spreads between you two as you both avoid each other’s eyes. Miguel stares back down at the food before speaking, “You really didn’t have to give me these.”

You speak with gentle hand gestures, a trait he didn’t know you had until now, “No, no. Please take them. I made them to thank you. It’s how I show proper gratitude. Honestly, I don’t think it’s enough.”

He looks at you in thought before looking back down at them with raised brows and a gentle smirk, “You made them?”

You tense, eyes darting to Lyla but she only offers you a quiet snicker. You sigh before nodding slowly, “Yes, I did. I’m sorry if you think they taste bad.”

He’s amused at your word choice. You didn’t say if they taste bad, you said if he thinks they taste bad. So you cook. And it sounds like you cook well given how confidently you speak about what you make.

Before he speaks, Lyla asks you something and motions you toward the control panel, “Y/n/n, come take a look at this.” [your nickname]

You bow your head briefly at Miguel with a modest smile before making your way to the screen Lyla opens for you. That’s another habit of yours he wasn’t fully aware of. He stands back and watches as you point at the screen and discuss it with Lyla. Your arms cross as you stand before the monitors, your face morphed from your inquisitiveness as you inspect the blueprint Lyla shows you. This makes him calm again. Watching you always made him calm and relaxed. However, it feels a bit stronger when you’re standing just a meter or so away from him. With you here now, so close to him, he actually feels warm. There’s a heat that surrounds him that he just can’t really explain. He continues his musings before taking a bite of the empanada absentmindedly but his eyes shoot down at the food as he tastes it. These aren’t like the ones from the cafeteria, they’re far better. The cafeteria carries standard beef empanadas. Beef and seasoning, it’s hard to mess it up. But these? Is this stew? This is honestly the best thing he's eaten in a long time. His foot stutters as he prevents himself from stepping closer to you and swallows the delicious bite before mumbling, “Are these-”

“Salteñas, sí.” His eyes travel up to see you looking back at him with a warm smile and nod. The way you say it is so natural. It rolls off your tongue so smoothly. Do you speak Spanish?

“Wow, it eats!”, Lyla cheers sarcastically.

“Lyla!”, he groans in annoyance.

“What do you-”, you unfurl your arms and look at him with what he recognizes as concern, “Sir, are you not eating properly?” You turn to face him completely and approach him slowly when all he returns is silence.

Lyla floats over to you, her voice laced with a haughty tone as she tattles, “No. No, he is not.” He grunts and tries to snatch her holographic form. His hand just misses her as she teleports to your other side with a giggle.

“O’Hara,” you call to him in a tone that’s so soft while still holding firmness. That’s new. It’s not as casual as he imagined and you’re still addressing him by his surname but he’s still pleased with how it sounds coming from you in that tone. “How often do you eat?”

He tenses a bit and looks away from your eyes before he gets lost in more of his thoughts. “I eat.” His brows furrowed as he mentally berates himself for his obvious statement. Of course, he eats. Estúpido. His embarrassment quickly triggered his next words despite how unexpected they are, even to him, “What does it matter to you?”

He feels an odd sense of uneasiness as he notices your lack of reaction. He’s quick to attempt to amend his words, “It’s appreciated but it’s none of your concern when I do and don’t eat.” Then there is more silence. It weighs heavily in the air awkwardly. He realizes his words may seem a bit harsh given how tense his voice is. He’s unsure what to say now and for once the silence from you isn’t so comfortable.

“O’Hara.”, you say more sternly as you cross your arms. He can’t help the way he feels like a child being scolded by their teacher. What truly catches him off guard is how firm your tone is despite how gentle you look at him, “Stop deflecting.”

It all makes him feel a bit small despite him being the one looking down at you due to your apparent size difference. He’s never been fond of his height. It’s annoying and cumbersome but the way your body positions itself to stare at him makes him think that it’s not that bad. Your head has to tilt back for your eyes to meet his. Those rich eyes of yours… The e/c encompasses your pupils in such an inviting way [eye color]. And each time you blink he catches a glimpse of how your lashes flutter against your skin. His eyes slowly travel along your features. Your forehead creases softly as your brows raise. The action makes your eyes appear larger as you look up at him. Then he sees your lips moving slowly. They’re not shiny nor are they chapped. But they do look smooth as he sees the tip of your tongue softly curl behind your teeth as you speak. Your words slowly grow less foggy before he flinches at the feeling of your hand gently holding his forearm. There’s a slight ringing in his ears as your voice finally reaches him.

“Mr. O’Hara, are you okay? You’re flushed.”

“What?”, he breathes out in a rushed tone before his eyes focus out to see the entirety of your worried expression. He gently tugs at the collar of his suit uncomfortably. He actually feels the heat now, it’s more intense than before.

“You’re burning up. It’s warm in here too…”. You quickly grab the box of food from his hand and place it on a nearby tabletop before pulling him toward the entrance of his work area. “Here, come with me.”

You take my hand like there's a way out (way out)

And we're escaping through the window

Miguel isn’t sure how but he now finds himself in a rather unfamiliar situation. You’re dragging him around by the wrist. However, it’s apparent that he follows seamlessly behind you. It feels natural for him to just maintain your lead, especially when there’s very little energy within him to resist. He watches how you walk in front of him. You walk in a way that makes you look smaller than you actually are. It’s as if you’re trying to hide. Why is that? Your shoulders are slouched a bit forward as you guide him through the corridors. His eyes drift to the back of your head, watching the way your hair gently bounces with each one of your steps. You halt for a moment which causes him to nearly stumble into you. Your grip on his wrist falters briefly before sliding down to take him by the hand. The action completely slips past you as you decide where to walk next, but it surely does not get past him. He has to fight the urge to squeeze his hand around yours but utterly fails. He’s not too upset about this. Truthfully, most of his awareness was occupied by trying not to let his claws protrude from his fingertips. You turn back to look at him but he’s quick to avoid your eyes, oscillating his head mindlessly.

You must have taken this as a sign of his unwell state because soon you're tugging him through the cafeteria with a firm whisper, “Over there. You need fresh air.”

His red face and his lack of words must make him appear as though he won’t be able to last the trek to the infirmary. You gently squeeze his hand which makes his eyes snap back to you quickly. Making your way to the large terrace, you push the glass door open. The air sweeps past you both as you guide him to sit on one of the patio chairs scattered among the outdoor area. His eyes are dazed as he looks up at you standing in front of him but they haven’t left you for even a moment since you squeezed his hand. But now your hand is no longer in his. He’s surprised to find himself a bit annoyed at that. You’re moving too fast, he thinks. All your actions are slipping away from him thanks to his hazy mind and he doesn’t appreciate it. You pull a handkerchief out of your back pocket and pat his sweaty forehead. His eyes watch you as you do. Your lips press into a line as you gently bite your bottom lip. Your eyes are full of concern as they roam over the sight of his flushed face. You remove your hand from his space as you step back a bit, wanting to let him feel the light breeze.

He spies how your hands start to reach out but retract back to your side, settling on your hips instead. You speak evenly as you look at him, “Are you okay? Does that feel better?” It’s gradual as he breaks out of his cloudy stupor, the wind finally cooling him down. He nods slowly before something slithers out of his brain and past his lips.

And I whisper

“What?”, you tilt your head curiously.

“Miguel….”, he breathes out, “My name is Miguel.”

You blink at him and speak with a bit of concern, “I know tha-”

“I don’t like being called O’Hara or Sir or Mr. O’Hara. Call me Miguel.”

You nod softly as you take in his words before giving him a small smile, “Okay. From now on I’ll call you Miguel.”

He almost smiles at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue but catches himself before it’s too late. His brows furrowed in confusion as you gently extended your hand toward him. You smile softly as you gently grasp his hand and shake it with a kind tone, “My name is y/n. It’s only fair that you address me as such.”

His brain stalls for a few moments, absorbing your name. It’s so fitting in a previously unknown yet expectedly pleasant way. Of course, that’s your name. He looks up at you in thought as you gently pull your hand from his, “Y/n, huh? It’s… pretty.”

He tenses in realization for a moment before slowly speaking, ensuring that his own curiosity remains undetectable, “The other night on e-26, on the rooftop. What were you going to ask me?”

You’re taken aback and stand back up, your lip jutting out in a pout as you try to remember. Your eyes wander to the table beside the two of you in thought but Miguel’s eyes stay on you. He takes in the sight of your face morphed in contemplation. It’s the same look he’s seen countlessly through the late nights. Except this time, it’s not pixelated or blurry from his monitors. Now, he can see you up close. He can see clearly how your chin softly wrinkles as you purse your lips and the way your eyes crinkle at the outer corners. It’s almost comical how earnestly he takes in such ordinary features with the same scrupulousness as a lab experiment.

“Do you ever look out at the skyline… and feel at peace?” The words flow out of you softly as you move to sit on the patio table next to him. Your eyes glide up to look at the lights below that decorate the horizon.

Miguel finally tears his eyes from you to look at the skyline before you both. It’s hard to hear the vehicles from up here but he knows they’re there. He can see the lights flicker and wane in the distance as his body relaxes into the chair. He realizes how familiar he is with the scene and breathes out lowly, “Yes. I do.”

He can see you smile in his peripherals before your voice fills the space between you, “I’ve always found comfort in the horizon and the view of the land below. The sunrise and sunset. I think Raon would have been mesmerized by this view of the city lights.”

He turns to look at you curiously, “Raon?” Truthfully, he was a bit curious about the word you mentioned to Lyla earlier.

You nod with a hum, crossing your legs and propping your chin on your elbows as you get comfortable. “The baby creature from our mission. Raon.”

Miguel notices how the word our rattles around his brain but pushes that feeling aside. He attempts to overpower it with a wry remark, “Did you name the anomaly?”

You release a breathy chuckle and nod, “Kind of. There’s a story from my universe that had a baby dragon named Raon Miru in it. Looked exactly like him too, blue eyes and all.”

He finds relief now not just in observing you but in your close presence and words. He’s intrigued by what you say. He can’t quite place the origin of such a unique name. He knows Japanese but he’s unsure if that is its correct origin. He takes a moment to look at you in thought, certain that he wants to hear more, “That name, what does it mean?”

“It’s a bit on the nose, truthfully. It means ‘joyful dragon’.”

“Raon Miru.”, he repeats to himself as he turns back to look at the skyline with you. There’s a comfortable silence that swells between you both. It takes a few more moments before your voice slithers into the empty space.

“Do you truly not eat well?”

He turns to look at you again but immediately regrets it. Well, not really. Your eyes are full of concern as they meet his. He sighs and shakes his head, “No. I don’t.”

“Why?” You ask so simply as your eyes never leave him.

He bites the inside of his cheeks and contemplates whether he should brush this off and lie or just tell you the truth. He chooses the latter, citing that he genuinely enjoys your consideration. “I’m busy. I lose track of time and just forget.”

Lyla finally decides to pop up next to you, “Hey, y/s/n. You actually remember to eat stuff. Mind keeping Miguel in check for me?”

Miguel stiffens quickly shaking his head to protest but before he can, you respond. “Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Cool.”, Lyla nods and disappears having completed her job as instigator.

His eyes travel to yours in question only for you to smile gently at him with a tilt of your head. “I need to make sure you’re properly taken care of.”

Need, you say. Not want. The way you say it so matter-of-factly makes his lungs quiver, just like that night. His mouth shuts as he slowly leans back in his chair. The way you look at him lets him know that there’s no room for debate. You nod with a smile as you watch him acquiesce your response. “Good. So, did you like the salteñas?”

He nods and speaks with a low hum, “Yes, they were good.”

You beam at that and lean toward him unconsciously, “Really? I was worried there for a second. By the way you heated up, I thought you had a bad reaction.” You straighten up as your features quickly morph in realization of something before speaking, “That reminds me. Lyla?”

“Yo.”, she appears in front of you like a pop-up ad.

“What’s the temperature in Miguel’s work area?”

She conjures up a thermostat and squints at it, “Yeesh, 85°F and climbing. At the time of reporting, it is approximately 20 degrees higher than average. Excessive heat appears to be emitting from a ground-level display console.”

“Oh, may you please-”

“Filtering and cooling as we speak, captain.”, her little hand bumping her forehead to salute you in assurance. “I’ve shut off the machine since it’s under minimal usage priority. Consider this a work order.”

You chuckle at her antics, “Thank you, dear. I’ll be sure to repair it asap. It also sounds like your active monitoring is on the fritz, I’ll check that too.” You then turn to Miguel, leaning in inquisitively to see if he’s cooled down enough.

He questions absentmindedly with an almost gravelly mumble, “Hablas español?” [Do you speak Spanish?]

You're taken aback but smile softly, “Sí, pero no lo hablo con fluidez.” [Yes, but I’m not fluent in it.]

He finds the corners of his mouth gently lifting at your words, “Me suenas fluido. Tu acento es natural.” [You sound fluent to me. Your accent is natural.]

Your smile seems to grow ever so gently as you nod, “Thank you. I grew up in a diverse place. Lots of people spoke languages other than English.”

Miguel found himself completely relaxed as he spoke with you about anything and everything. Like that, the conversation flowed between you for a long while.

All I really want is you

What would you do?

Your brows shoot up in shock before a small smile blooms on your face. “Good. Let’s meet out on the terrace at 3 am. You better not leave me hanging.”

He smirks at your warning in amusement, you said it in such a way that carries no real malice. He nods in understanding as you two walk side by side languidly, back to his work area. The conversation hasn’t stopped. Miguel thinks this is the longest he’s ever talked to someone, speaking more words in these last couple of hours with you than he has to anyone in months. It’s odd to him how easy it is to talk with you. It makes him feel like he’s conversing with an old friend.

He’s lost in content conversation with you as you two enter back into his lab and continues even after you begin to work. He leans against the main control panel on his platform as he watches you repair the display console that practically turned his work area into an oven. Miguel’s arms are crossed over his chest, somehow unsure of what to do with his hands. He speaks with a more calm tone, “So you’re the one who does repairs around here? You’d think I, of all people, would know that.”

“I actually did think you already knew that but I suppose me coming in here and working on your tech while you’re out during the day is a bit of a clue as to why you didn’t.” You calmly respond to him. Your voice is just a bit louder than normal in order to ensure he can hear you properly. After all, half of your body is inside a relatively large electronics console.

“So what’s the issue here then?”

"Just a basic issue. Overclocked GPUs and faulty heatsinks don't really mix well.", you sigh with a shrug after gently crawling out of the unit to drop some screws into a small tray beside you. You present a damaged PCB to him and point at a burnt section of it with the tip of your screwdriver, “See, a few of them have blown fuses.”

He’s tuned into what you say and nods in acknowledgment. He knows what you’re talking about and enjoys it because it’s not rushed and not frantic like during the day. It’s calm and comfortable.

"Although I told Pete to run manual diagnostics on this which he said he did. Liar." 

Miguel is amused by your annoyed grumble as you work. He’s a bit curious as to why you refer to Peter by nickname when you’ve only started calling him by his given name a couple hours ago but he figures it’s fine since Peter is the one who initially recruited you from what he can recall. 

Miguel leans a bit over to peek at the mess that is the internal hardware before you crawl back inside. "I'm going to guess that he didn't even look at this at all."

"Yeah, pretty safe to assume that. I should have known better than to ask him. He's been preoccupied lately.", you groan from inside the panel. You look a bit funny like this, with half your body inside the console.

“Why did you ask Peter to look at it then?”, Miguel asks a bit curiously.

“Um, my arm was still messed up, Sir. I couldn’t really pronate it without feeling uncomfortable.”

He hears how nonchalantly you say it and senses that you don’t want to bring up the injury again. He nods curtly to himself and continues while changing the subject, “Don't call me Sir. It makes me feel old.”

You smile softly to yourself as you respond, “Sorry, it’s a hard habit to shake. I mean, you are the boss. But you shouldn’t worry, you’re not old by a long shot. In fact, I’m your elder…”

Your last few words are muffled but he manages to pick them up. His brows raise in intrigue as he asks, “Is that so?”

The way you tense at what he says doesn’t slip past him but you soon answer in a calm voice, “My universe’s present year is several decades earlier than here. So despite being biologically younger than you, I am chronologically n/y years older than you.” [number of years]

Miguel turns to work on some reports as he says, “Well, you still look spry enough to handle the duties of a Spider.”

You nearly snort at his comment. You must have not expected it, judging by your reaction. You continue to work, your eyes focused on the components you inspect as you jest in a sardonic tone, “Thanks, jefe. I’m glad to know you think my body is still young enough to be thrown around on missions.”

He has to bite his lip to contain the chuckle that he feels vibrate in his chest. He didn’t expect you to respond so sarcastically but he’s glad that you did. If anything, it makes him want to continue talking with you, “So why haven’t I been formally notified of your work here?”

“Well, if something breaks or needs general maintenance, Lyla is informed and she then passes that information to me. She typically deals with software issues and I’m the hardware person. We don’t usually bother you with these things because you’re always so busy as it is.”, you offer with a shrug as you crawl out and sit on your heels, inspecting yet another PCB.

“It wouldn’t be a bother. I need to know about these things.”

You look up at him and chuckle quietly with a soft shake of your head, “There are reports on file of every single repair I’ve done but… the last thing you need to worry about is a coffee maker gone haywire or someone’s empty web cartridges.”

“Aren’t you busy too? You take missions yet you still pull the Society’s odd jobs. Why?”

“Not really. I’m active mostly at night or in the early morning hours. Even when there is an active mission, I’m D-team at best.”

“D-team? Why do you think that?”, Miguel is genuinely confused by what you say. After all, the two of you worked so well together during the missions you have been on with one another.

“I’m just not that capable when compared to the Spiders.”

There’s that phrasing of yours again. It paints a clear separation between you and the society. Why are you so unwilling to include yourself with them? What exactly makes you speak this way? Miguel then thinks back to your first mission together, when it was just the two of you. Although it felt foreign at first, you two completed it quickly and efficiently. He speaks in a tone that leaves no room for rebuttal, “You are very capable.”

“Yeah, you think so?”

“You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t.”

You sigh casually as you stand up, carrying a small tote against your hip of damaged hardware to be further inspected, “Well, I could just be pleasant to be around.”

He releases a breathy laugh at your arch remark with a shake of his head. If only you knew how important your presence has become to him over all these late nights.

You perked up at the sound as you placed the tote on a nearby desk, turning to him as you asked, “Did I just make you laugh?” 

He was about to groan in annoyance on instinct but caught the look in your eyes before he did. Your face didn’t show a single sign of ill intent. Rather, it carried what he identifies as wonder. His lips purse a bit as he looks away from you, trying to avoid your gaze to spare himself from how overactive he’s found his mind becomes when gazing upon your bare face.

“Oh, now you’re pouting.”

“Not pouting.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.” 

Miguel’s brain stalls as his ears pick up a previously unknown yet gratifying sound. Gentle giggling slips from you and it makes that buzzing sensation in his ears return. But he's not upset because he knows you're not laughing at him. It’s that kind of laughter that isn’t rude nor teasing. It’s kind and full of joy. He can’t help the upturn of the corners of his mouth, finding your delight somewhat infectious.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just too cute.”, you wave your hand softly as your other hand attempts to muffle your chortling before grabbing the tote of hardware to repair again. You turn to leave to your usual lab to work but your joyful sounds have yet to cease.

Miguel’s frozen by your comment. Cute? In reference to him? That’s not… that’s implausible and honestly, unprecedented. The more he speaks with you, the more he learns just how strange you are. You’re different in not only appearance but behavior as well. He's sure now that you are unique to the Society in such an eccentric way. He realizes something and it’s arguable in his mind. It makes sense why you exclude yourself from them all. Out of all the Spiders, you’re the anomaly.

Laying in the rain with you

Middle of June

“Miguel O’Hara! Get your butt out here now!”

He groans and rolls his eyes with a smirk as he looks at the time. 3 am, on the dot. It’s time.

The two have grown very well acquainted with each other over the past 8 months. There was a stint of anomalies surfacing during the early overnight hours. For a while, it seemed you and Miguel were dispatched nearly every night but now the instances have slowed to every week or so. You’ve learned a lot about each other and have acclimated well to each other’s presence. His hands swipe away the monitors floating around him as he calls over his shoulder, “Yeah, yeah. Just a second, needy.”

“Needy?! Puh-lease, you would waste away without me.”, you chuckle as your body swings around the entrance to his work area. You cross your arms and lean against the doorway, “Ven a comer.” [Come eat.]

“Sí, Mami.”, he mumbles amusedly, stroking his chin as he stares at the monitors in front of him. [Yes, Mom.]

You chuckle and walk over to him, “Don’t make me drag you out of here.”

He closes the floating screens around him with a flick of his wrist before turning to you with a smirk. His hands rest on his hips as his platform descends to meet you. The soft fizzling in his ears returns as you look up at him with a small, playful smile. The sensation is no longer foreign to him. It’s welcomed now. Warm and comfortable. “Yeah, uh-huh. And how do you suppose you’d do that?”

Your grin is almost mischievous as he finally stands in front of you, “I’d figure it out. I’m very resourceful, you know?”

He nods and begins to walk with you to complete your late-night ritual. “Oh, are you now?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” You repeat the words he told you from your first night together. At this point, it’s more of an inside joke; a reference that often appears as you two converse.

“I thought you said it was because you were pleasant to be around.”, he hums amusedly.

“Well? Am I?”, you look up at him through your lashes. Your eyes gleam with warmth and he’s not sure if you truly know just how beguiling it is.

He mutters as he avoids your gaze, knowing damn well he wants to say yes, “Don’t fish for compliments.”

“But you would compliment me.”, you state in a way that’s laced with playfulness. You bend a bit at the waist to catch a glimpse of his face with your hands resting neatly upon your lower back.

He meets your teasing gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes, “What’s for dinner?”

He sees your lips curl up in his peripherals before you state nonchalantly, “It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? What do you mean? What for?”

“What? Don’t you trust me?”, you chuckle in amusement after he rambles a bit. You managed to identify that habit of his despite his general seriousness after the many nights you've spent working together.

“I trust you as far as I can throw you.”, he replies collectedly, or so he hopes.

“Liar.”, you hum with an amused smile on your lips, “Nonetheless, I suppose it’s good that you’re an incredibly strong man that can throw me very, very far.”

You chuckle again as he groans beside you. You’re far too sharp for your own good, having seen right through his strategic word choice. You two enter the terrace and something feels different. The air is a bit warmer tonight. Miguel supposes it’s just that kind of summer night. One where the heat from the day lingers into the late night and rekindles the following morning. His eyes shut for a moment as he absorbs the scent floating around. It’s familiar, it’s… enticing. He blinks softly before turning to you, eyebrows lifting in surprise as he sees that setup you’ve made. Upon the ground is a large blanket with a couple of small pillows. There are a few containers of what he knows is your cooking placed in the center. It’s not extravagant but something does stir in his stomach as he sees you turn to him. You almost look coy as you gesture behind you but your eyes never lack that warmth he knows as yours. “Yeah, it’s a bit silly but… happy 50th successful mission, partner.”

He stiffens at your calm yet happy proclamation. The word partner rattles around his brain for a few moments before the gears in his brain turn again. 50 missions? Have you two truly been on 50 missions already? Oh, who is he kidding? Of course, he knows that already. The two of you have actually been on 58 missions to be exact but they can’t always be successes.

You walk over to pull him gently by the wrist to the blanket, “Come on already. Food’s getting cold.”

He rolls his eyes with a smirk as he indulges your command with reluctance, but only externally.

You let go of his hand and sit at one end of the blanket, “Mira, I made some of your favorites.” You remove the lids of the containers presenting a small variety of his preferred dishes. There’s a smile on your lips as you pull out the final container, presenting it to him with a kind tone of voice, “I even made Stobhach for you. And I’ll let you know I’ve perfected my recipe.”

He can’t help the small curl of his lips as he sits opposite of you. You seem so excited to show him all that you prepared for tonight. It all almost makes him blush. He’s learned fairly early on in your acquaintanceship-turned-friendship that you show affection through care. Especially, by giving someone a home cooked meal. He stares down at the food and hums, “Thank you.”

You return with a hum of your own. Besides the banter and wry humor, words aren’t really necessary between the two of you. You’ve learned to read each other well. Body language, quirks, and even the noises that rumble from each of your chests. It’s almost animalistic in its simplicity. Miguel has come to realize how truly perceptive you can be, similar to himself. You two actually share a lot of similarities like your inquisitive nature and reclusive behavior. And he’s come to the conclusion that that is why you two can exist so harmoniously together. It’s not hard to be around you. To him, your presence is easy.

All I really want is you

What would you do?

You two have been talking for a while, the food long gone and your bellies satiated. There’s a bubble around you two as you converse like you’re in your own little world. 

“Come on. Lay with me.”, you look up at him with warmth in your eyes as you pat the space next to you. He truly can’t find it within himself to deny such a gentle command. He moves to lie next to you and stares up at the few stars that manage to make it through the city’s light pollution. It’s times like these when he ponders upon his actions and realizes how easily he finds himself following your instruction. He’s not upset about it. He just finds it odd although certainly not unwelcome. Truthfully, he’s grateful that he can take your lead and not have to be in charge, even if only for a moment. But these moments fill his chest with something warm. Warm and comfortable are his two choice words to describe you in any situation. Whether it be as you two work in silence in one of the labs or when you patch each other up after rough missions.

Sleeping outside, the moon

Tripping with you

He hears a sweet sigh from your lips as you relax on the blanket next to him. You whisper into the night air with the same gentleness one speaks a secret, “This reminds me of one night when I was a teen. In my universe…”

Miguel’s ears perked a bit as you began. It was very rare for you to speak of yourself, your experiences, or your universe. Every time you did, he was sure to pay attention and commit each word to memory because if you ever spoke of it like this, earnestly and unprompted, it meant you were revealing a part of who you are. That you were trusting him with a part of your very essence. To keep it safe.

“California isn’t gone. There’s a coastal city there called San Francisco that my friends and I traveled to. We spent hours there. We watched the sunset on the bay and the evening fog that rolled in. And eventually, we laid back on the sand and looked up at the stars. Just like this.”

He didn't say anything or make a noise. He just stared up at the stars with you, listening intently.

“I felt so calm that night. I knew in that moment that nothing else mattered. And for the first time, I felt at peace. My whole life I didn’t do much. I stayed at home filling my time with random knowledge and tricks. I avoided people and kept to myself as best as I could because I had learned very young that people were not to be trusted.”

Miguel feels his chest tighten at your words but keeps silent. There’s a darkness that barely laces your voice but it is there. He picks up the sound of hurt in your tone and it grips him tightly. There’s a tumultuous feeling in his stomach. He’s eager to preserve the pieces of yourself that you delicately hand him but it doesn’t change the feeling of helplessness that floods him. Your honesty is encased in sadness, a build-up of fears and insecurity that he’s far too late to have prevented. So he listens because maybe, just maybe, something you reveal to him in these genuine passages of your lore can help him protect the parts of you he keeps.

“I learned that family was everything because family would never hurt you. It’s funny now… Now, I think I’m nothing but a memory yet to be forgotten by them.”

He turns to look at you curiously but the concern is unmistakable in his eyes. Of all the countless nights you’ve spent together, you’re finally revealing why you are the way you are. Why he feels like he knows you without words. Because loss and loneliness radiates off you like bittersweet perfume yet you contain it with walls built of sufferance and capability. He’s always held a certain affinity to you that he could never quite describe until now. Before his thoughts submerge his consciousness, he notices how your eyes are screwed shut and the way your fist is squeezed tightly around the strings of your hoodie. Your clenched fingers resting above your heart almost as if you're quelling pain into passivity.

You sigh quietly as if to prepare yourself for what to say. “Things happen. At one point you think you know where you are. Then you blink and wake up somewhere else entirely.”

There’s a brief pause before your next words. Your eyes slowly flutter open to look up at the stars with glossy eyes and a gentle yet certain voice, “I’m here now and I’m actually very grateful for all that has happened. I’ve learned things I never thought were possible, about reality and the world. About people and about myself.”

He’s a bit surprised as you speak to him with sincerity, “I know I’m strange, Miguel. I know I don't make sense and that I don’t really fit. But you make me feel understood. And you make me feel like I’m not really alone… Thank you.”

You turn to find him staring at you in surprise. Your smile is small but your usual warmth has returned, and truthfully, he thinks that it never left. “Sorry. That was a bit heavy, huh? Just forget I said anything.” You offer with a chuckle before laying back.

All I really want is you

Your eyes are closed as you bask in the moonlight and his eyes travel over you. He takes in the soft curl of your lips and the faint flush on your cheeks from the cool air and candid words. The temperature isn’t too bad but thanks to the extreme altitude of the building, it’s crisp yet foggy. It’s an odd feeling, the air is damp from the clouds rolling through the skyscraper but Miguel feels warm. So soothingly warm. Especially, with you laying so close to him. So earnest and so true. He finds it odd how comforting this feeling is despite it being foreign to him, or rather dormant. He’s astonished by your trust in him. It fills him with something that he wasn’t entirely sure he was missing. Suddenly it's apparent what exactly this feeling is. The same feeling that he's felt for months. And it finally sparks in his mind as you look at him with tired eyes and a warm smile.

I love you. 

All I really want is you

What would you do?

He can nearly taste the words on his tongue but he remains silent as your eyes stare into his. Suddenly he feels very awake as his own thoughts dawn on him. Managing to tear his gaze away from your familiar e/c eyes, he finally speaks as he closes his eyes with a coy smirk.

“Never.”

It’s you. Now, it’s something that’s as certain as fact in his mind. He feels the heat of your hand resting on the blanket between the two of you, right next to his. Right where you belong, he thinks. Right next to him.

All I really want is you

Is you, is you, is you

Appearing near you two and out of sight is Lyla. She watches you two and makes a final checkmark on the chart she pulled from an article months ago, when Miguel was initially questioning his interest in you. She smiles to herself as she looks over the chart then back at you two as you exist in your own little world. The words softly illuminated in the window beside her, Infatuation vs. Love, with all her markings under the latter.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this! Also, big thanks to everyone who voted on my poll regarding this fic. I am open to your opinions and questions! Please feel free to ask me anything!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv #itsv #miguel x fem!reader #hispanic!reader #??? maybe #y/n #female reader #reader insert #miguel x y/n #holy shit #this is long #fem!reader #? i guess #plus size!reader #he just wants to hold your hand #🥺 #fluff #atsv fluff #falling in love #oof #my heart

[collisvng]

♠︎♡●WALK OF SHAME○♥︎♤

Pairing ♤ Han Jisung x Fem Reader ☆

Synopsis ♤ You and Han had become friends quite fast.  You loved his writing, he loved your voice. He and Bangchan manage to get you an audition that could potentially start your career as an artist under their company. But things go terribly wrong, resulting in the potential loss of Jisung's friendship. ☆

Warnings ♤ Mentions of: anxiety, panic attacks, brief mention of blood, yelling/screaming, crying, the feeling of being useless, a LOT of angst ☆

Word Count ♤ 1,837 + 8 sm screenshots ☆

THE BEGINNING ♠︎

"What the fuck?!" Jisung yelled after you.

You click-clacked your way ferociously through the halls of the JYP building, faltering a few steps that almost landed you on the ground.

You were running away from your only shot at getting into the company, but you didn't care. The air was leaving your lungs, your eyes became blurry from a combination of dizziness and tears, and for the first time in your life you knew you couldn't handle any sort of pressure. There was guilt and hatred in your eyes; feelings towards yourself and your actions. And worst of all, you had Jisung following after you in the most confused rage you had ever seen before.

For the last two weeks Han had been helping you with your audition. You guys had been friends for a while now ever since meeting at an anime convention that Jisung somehow managed to sneak into unnoticed. One moment you’re chatting it up with a Turnip-Head cosplay that approached you because you were dressed as Sophie Hatter, then the next thing you know you're at the dorms hanging out with Han and his friends. 

After a few failed attempts due to his anxiousness, he eventually invited you to see him work. He took you to the studio and showed you songs he wrote. Each one being passionate excerpts of romance, heartbreak, and acceptance. He was a literary magician in your eyes. And one day, when he heard you singing the chorus to a song he was working on, he never let a moment pass without speaking about it. You were full of surprises, and his brain was full of lyrics he wanted to hear you perform. Eventually, the guys learned about your hidden talent and encouraged you to try to do something with it. Chris was especially encouraging and even tried to sample some of your melodies for background vocals in his own songs.

You guys bonded over your love for anime, video game lore, and your constant praise of each other’s talents. You loved his writing and lyricism. He loved your voice. And eventually… you secretly grew to love more parts of him. He even took the time to write your audition song for you, after the company finally gave you a chance (with the help of Jisung and Chan’s constant pleading).

You became his muse, he became your best friend. And now, with your nails digging into your palms trying to keep yourself calm, you couldn’t even look at him.

He called after you again… And again… And again…

It wasn’t until around the fifth time that you finally spun around and yelled, ‘What the fuck do you want?!’ did he finally stop.

You both stood a great distance away from each other. Partially because Jisung needed space to calm down, and partially because you both knew how you can get in moments of stress. Your eyes widened, then narrowed sleepily as you stared him down. Just one word, one word, and you were ready to blow up in his face. Whether it would be with anger or with tears though, that was a mystery.

“What are you doing?” His voice came out a bit softer than the last time he spoke. “You just walked right out!”

“I couldn’t do it,” your nails were one clench away from drawing blood. “I’m not ready. I told you I wasn’t ready. Now your boss thinks I’m a dumbass.”

Han let out an angry sigh, rubbing his finger tips over his nose before bringing his palms from his chin to his eyes. He pressed inward, as if to push them through his skull.

“You’re not a dumbass,” he huffed, “and you ARE ready. Stop telling yourself you’re not.”

“LOOK AT ME!” You released your hands from their clawed prison to hold them up to show him. The imprints were deep, you were borderline hyperventilating, and your eyes widened once more. If you could see yourself in the third person, you probably would have thought you were crazy. “I look insane, Ji. I’m too anxious for this.”

His hands dropped to his sides, eyes opening slowly. A small vein began to stick out on his neck as he clenched his jaw. Jisung was always understanding and compassionate–the type to listen when people asked him to, responding in the best way he could. But right now, seeing you freak out as he stood in front of you, was setting him off. He knew you had potential. He knew you were capable. And as a person who became an idol himself despite also having anxiety issues, he knew anything was possible as long as you wanted it badly enough. 

“So that’s it?” His blunt tone caught you by surprise. 

Jisung made his way over to you in long strides, practically gliding across the floor. He made it to your side in record time, looking down at you with what little distance there was between both your heights. He looked annoyed, he was annoyed, and he wasn’t about to let you walk out of the building without knowing that he was.

“You’re just going to let this go? Everything Chan and I did to even attempt to give you this opportunity… And because you feel nervous you’re just going to walk out?” An irritated laugh left his throat as he glanced up at the ceiling. “Gosh you always do this.”

You felt your heart on the verge of cracking. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Each word that left his mouth next sent you into anguish.

“You never stick to one thing.”

Crack.

“You always need help, but never follow through.”

Crack.

“And you use your anxiety as an excuse to give up.”

And there it was, in its final form; heartbreak.

You were no longer present in your body. Arms limp, eyes glossy, a hitched breath in your throat, and no emotion shown on your face. You almost looked bitchy, but in a ‘I no longer have anything to lose’ kind of way. You wanted to fight him, but also wanted nothing more than for this end and to just hug him. You couldn’t believe someone you grew so close to in such a short time would end up being like this.

“I think you, of all people,” you took a step forward, the tip of your nose practically meeting his chin as your glass eyes searched his, “would know how messed up that last statement is.”

He leaned down to meet your gaze. Pupils to pupils, nose to nose, mouth to–fuck what kind of shit was trying to pull? You wanted to punch him, but with him being so close like that for the first time your mind was running laps. But that all ended the moment he said, “At least I’m not letting my problems get in the way of my own opportunities.”

That was the final straw. The overstimulation in your brain took over and your whole body began frantically shaking. Jisung being so close, his anger, the mix of emotions in your head, wanting to sob, feeling ashamed for walking out of your only shot at the career you’ve always wanted, knowing that your friend saw you as nothing but someone who gives up… 

It took Han a moment before he realized you were finally in full panic attack mode. Harsh breaths expelled themselves from your mouth as you vibrated from your torso upward. You were flexing and unflexing your hand as if you needed to grab something, and your eyes were no longer looking into his, but blankly staring at something in the distance to hyperfixate on something other than what was happening. He took a step back, his big boba eyes filling with concern.

He pushed you too hard. He let his emotions get the best of him. He did it; he fucked up. 

“Shit,” he mumbled a swear under his breath. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

Grabbing your hands at the right moment as they unflexed, he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Breathe.”

The phrase was repeated over and over, followed by Han squeezing your hand with every intake of oxygen you made. Eventually you found a steady rhythm. And his words, despite you wanting to slap the living hell out of him, were actually helping you calm down.

Once your breathing became stable, you and Han stood there in silence. You came down from your panicked high and once that was done… you didn’t really know where to go from there.

With Han’s fingers still laced with yours, he tried to step forward. It caused you to flinch, almost stumbling backwards, which filled him with dread. “Listen, I–”

“Thanks for calming me down,” you released his hands instantly. “But I think I need some space from you right now.”

His lips came forward into a pout, as puppy dog eyes met your blurry vision. You could tell he was remorseful for what just happened, but it wasn’t enough for you to stay and hear him out. You needed to be as far away from this place and him as soon as possible.

As you turned to walk away, Jisung tried to stop you by reaching out for your arm to pull you back. But he was immediately stopped by the sound of Bangchan’s voice echoing across the hall.

“Don’t.” His voice was stern and blunt. It almost sent a shiver down your spine. “Let her leave. She’s been through enough.”

Han looked over his shoulder at Chris, then back to you. His hand remained floating in mid-air, while sudden realization began to set in for you. When did Chan get here? How much did he notice? Was he here the whole time? Who else–

Before you could flare yourself up again, Bangchan was already in front of you grabbing ahold of Han’s shoulder and pulling him to the side. He told you to leave, followed by saying he’d text you later. Then without letting Jisung get a word in, you left. The last thing you remember before exiting was hearing Chan ask Han what the hell he was thinking, then next thing you know you were pushing through a set of double doors and running.

That night you received several texts from a group chat that Felix randomly made that included everyone except for Han. Apparently there were already rumors being spread about your conversation with Jisung and all the guys knew. You also received many texts from Bangchan and Jisung himself.

This was it, you thought to yourself. You would never be able to show your face around the JYP building ever again. And to make matters worse… You probably lost a friend.

Notes ♤ AHHHHHHH! It’s finally done! Hope you guys enjoyed it. Figured since I am best at writing angst that I should start off my page with it lol Depending on how things go, this might turn into a two part mini series. We’ll just test out the waters for a bit and see how it goes. Thanks for reading! 🩶 — collisvng✨️

#➴collisvng writes #skz #skz drabbles #skz smau #skz texts #skz angst #stray kids #han jisung #han jisung drabbles #han jisung smau #han jisung texts #han jisung angst #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #han jisung x y/n #kpop drabbles #kpop smau #angst drabble #drabbles #smau

[mclennonlgbt]

Riding to Vanity Fair

I know this song has been on the McLennon songs list for a long time, but I recently listened to it again and was struck by how much it is about John. And what a different perspective Paul takes here. He usually sang how much he loved John, and here he reveals his frustration, possibly in reference to the conflict from the 1970s.

The first verse goes:

I bit my tongue I never talked too much I tried to be so strong I did my best I used the gentle touch I've done it for so long

which reminds me of this quote:

“I always find myself wanting to excuse John’s behaviour, just because I loved him. It’s like a child, sure he’s a naughty child, but don’t you call my child naughty".

Paul continues singing and decides to stop suppressing his anger and resentment towards the other person:

I'll tell you what I'm gonna do I'll try to take my mind off you And now that you don't need my help I'll use the time to think about myself

which reminds me of:

There’s no hard feelings or anything, but you just don’t hang around with your ex-wife. We’ve completely finished. ’Cos, you know, I’m just not that keen on John after all he’s done. I mean, you can be friendly with someone, and they can shit on you, and you’re just a fool if you keep friends with them. I’m not just going to lie down and let him shit on me again. I think he’s a bit daft, to tell you the truth. I talked to him about the Klein thing, and he’s so misinformed it’s ridiculous.

This excerpt touches me the most:

The definition of friendship Apparently you're to be Showing support for the one that you love And I was open to friendship But you didn't seem to have any to spare While you were riding to Vanity Fair

What the "riding to Vanity Fair" would be? My interpretation is that this is what John was doing during his interview with Jann Wenner in 1970 (later released as Lennon Remembers): belittling Paul's talent, criticizing him for taking the initiative in The Beatles, and presenting himself and Yoko as True, Non-Commercial Artists.

Some people believe that the song is addressed to a woman. I think this is nonsense. Even if we ignore everything I wrote earlier, look at this:

There was a time When every day was young The sun would always shine We sang along When all the songs were sung Believing every line

This "believing every line" could be a reference to John and Paul's communications through music.

I don't think Paul hated or hates John (or vice versa). However, I think he had the right to be angry with him and feel sorry.

#mclennon #mclennon tinted song analysis #chaos and creation in the backyard #paul mccartney #john lennon

[sgiandubh]

Anon rebelde

Como bien señalas en la cena hay matrimonios entonces, que impide que Cait acuda a la misma con el que dice que es su esposo? O ese *esposo solo le sirve de vez en cuando para para calentar los ánimos en un fandom fácilmente caldeable? Ya sabemos que Sam está en Londres así que Cait no puede estar allí y en Glasgow tampoco, esas obras no acaban nunca 🤣

Dear (returning) Anon Rebelde,

Y muy reactiva, hoy. 😉 Como se dice en Chile: 'a ver, a ver/por qué llora esta mujer'?

'As you very well observed, there were couples invited to that dinner. So, why would Cait not be there with the one she says it's her husband? Or would that be that the *husband* is only useful once in a while, to fire up tempers in a fandom that's easily heated? We know that Sam is in London, so Cait cannot be there or in Glasgow, so it never ends. 🤣'

You know I agree with everything you wrote, spare one detail: S was apparently not in LHR in October, when the Belfast dinner took place. I had to go look at my archives and make some sense of the context. And although I am not Marple, I couldn't help but notice last October was a very active networking/promo/shit show month for both of them, as the SAG-AFTRA strike was still not over yet.

Just a short summing up:

October 4, 2023 - C's 44th birthday and another mysterious donation to Project CaiTreena/One Tree Planted. S in NYC for drinks and Departures interview with Sophie Mancini. Fandom gets ballistic speculating - an empty 💩, of course.

October 5, 2023 - S in NYC for the Keepers of the Quaich US Chapter gala, with Norouzi (as I predicted) and Mancini. C's whereabouts unknown - not the US, I suppose. Maybe in LHR, re-enacting that Prophet Song excerpt, on behalf of the Booker Prize?

October 8, 2023 - C spotted in LHR for Harrods Iconic Dining Hall Relaunch hosted by Stanley Tucci, with McIdiot (the only time, that month!). Hullaballo ensues for something very close to a nothing burger. S supposedly in GLA, as shown by FaceTime snippet convo with Amanda Tutschek, Venice Beach topless artist extraordinaire. Date of above FaceTime snippet - unknown.

October 10, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, likely latergram (IG SS gin pics taken on own driveway). C confirmed in LHR, first by Gareth Bromell, then by Getty Image pics at Loewe Foundation's Studio Voltaire Award. Sans McIdiot.

October 17, 2023 - S signs APUK's Palestine letter, whereabouts unknown (my bet is on NYC/Nevis). C confirmed in LHR at the Portia Coughlan play Press Night/After Party, Almeida Theatre. Sans McIdiot, but with Tobias. LOL.

October 19, 2023 - S on Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show, in NYC. Ring ding ding proves to be a very effective lookie here, not there prop. C's whereabouts unknown, as S's in the October 10-17 interval (Nevis? both? That would be my best bet, and yeah, go ahead and screech. I DGAF).

October 25, 2023 - S confirmed in GLA, despite posting 'from Nevis' the same day and shirtless thirst trap the next day. C's whereabouts unknown? Not really, I should say.

Back to the Northern Irish dinner - bear with me, Anon Rebelde, I am trying to pinpoint a date, here. Begin Again, Jeffers' book that prompted it, was out in the US on October 2 and in UK/Canada and Ireland on October 10:

October was a dementedly busy month for the author, as shown by the excruciating dates of his North American and UK book launch tours (https://www.oliverjeffers.com/begin-again-book-tour):

One of the events surrounding this launch was held at Belfast's Crescent Arts Centre in partnership with No Alibis Bookstore, on October 24. Best thing? He is dressed exactly like in the NYT article pics.

My best bet is that dinner took place in Belfast on October 24, Anon Rebelde or at the latest on October 25 (next to 0 chance, given the identical attire, but let's allow some margin of error to our estimate).

As for Jeffers' position on the Israel-Hamas Gaza War (which, may I remind you, started on October 7), I think this is a very clear statement:

You draw your own conclusions, Anon Rebelde. I am here to try and bring some clarity in a shitstorm, not brainwash you.

Always waiting for your input, which is much appreciated! Hasta luego, hija de la rebeldía!

PS: The timeline game was fucking exhausting. I am not the Securitate, so you won't see me play at that any time soon :)

#anon #shitshow

[pineapplefulfillseveryneed]

The Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth - O2 Academy Bristol (November 27, 2013) by Adam Gasson

After 11 years of not finding a single photo from this show, I found these yesterday! I can not begin to express what this means to me, I nearly cried and I couldn't sleep last night. I was still a rather new fan and this was my first time going to a show in the UK, the first show I went to see with a friend, and my first time meeting that friend, too. And these above photos are SO GOOD! Not much was preserved from this show at all, there was no recording allowed (no charcoal drawings either), and to my knowledge not even the full setlist for this specific show was preserved anywhere. So better late than never, but here's what I remember (with some help from these photos!) and the things I've puzzled back together:

If there was opening music or an opening act, i don't recall, but Russell entered the stage alone. It was dramatic and impactful, and it went quiet as he gave an intense stare into the audience and did a drawn out "ahhh" into the microphone. After a little moment of quiet, it turned out the microphone had been connected to a sequencer which now started repeating "ah ah ah ah ah ah". Suspense, excitement. Russell added: "Hold, hold, hold, hold". (...I was definitely freaking out.) While that started looping on top of the ah ah ah sequence, he made stop signs with his hand as we all listened. A few repeats passed. "I'm getting mixed signals, mixed signals - mixed, mixed, mixed signals".

^ the only seconds of this show I recorded as I didn't yet know it wasn't allowed - security signed at me and I put the camera away. It was fine. (Here's a recording of it made during the US tour later that year - recording seemed to be less frowned upon at that point.)

I don't recall when Ron entered the stage at this show, whether it was during the song or after, but what a way to open! And what an amazing song choice!

The performance that left the biggest impression on me at this show though was Nicotina. It was a choice I didn't see coming, but also the way Russell sang it! Falsetto heaven. (Sadly not a single video is to be found of Nicotina from this tour. But for your falsetto heaven needs, I hope you can find a video of Here In Heaven that they also performed on this tour, because that will also kill you.)

As everyone here probably knows I am quite big on Bergman, which at the time was heavily promoted during the tours, and, the excerpts they played on this tour were different from what they played during Two Hands One Mouth! They played "I Am Ingmar Bergman", The Studio Commissary (my favourite song on Bergman), Limo Driver (but sang by Russell, and HOW!) and "Oh My God". (Here's a video of it from one of the American shows. It's extremely good. People who've been around for a while have seen me lose it over this video many times.)

The most unexpected song choice was probably Katherine Hepburn. Me and my friend had been joking for absolute months that we were going to see Sparks and they'd play Katherine Hepburn (as if that would ever happen, we were obsessed with that song though!). And here we were, and they were playing Katherine Hepburn right in front of our eyes. (What is reality.)

Falling In Love With Myself Again had me losing it over the organ sounds, always a fan of Ron on organ, and I LOVE that song. Russell sang a line in my direction (I died), and he managed to throw another line at me during Those Mysteries ...I died a few times that night. As you might expect. That was kind of the whole THOM/TROTHOM experience anyway. Lots of dying. But the variety of dying where you end up in heaven. (You're at a Sparks show after all.)

They wrote a song especially for this tour, which was not released but only ever played live: Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth. What a thing to experience! A very dark song, but wonderful. (REVENGE! REVENGE REVENGE!)

At the end of the show Ron took a photo of Russell with the audience. I don't really remember that happening, but the photo exists and it really was not a thing they did often back then. We had been a good audience :)

Here's all the songs that were probably played that night in random order:

Your Call's Very Important To Us. Please Hold., B.C., Good Morning, Here In Heaven, Academy Award Performance, Those Mysteries, Falling In Love With Myself Again, Big Boy, Nicotina, Popularity, This Town Ain't Big Enough For Both Of Us, excerpts from The Seduction Of Ingmar Bergman, Tryouts For The Human Race, Katherine Hepburn, Revenge Of Two Hands One Mouth. They likely also played The Number One Song in Heaven, When Do I Get To Sing 'My Way' and Suburban Homeboy. (I see mentions of How Are You Getting Home? and How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall? in setlists for this tour as well, which they very well might have played but I very sadly have zero memory of ever hearing those songs live.)

This tour had a real air of mystery, possibly even more so than Two Hands One Mouth, as the lack of existing footage definitely adds to it. But luckily some of it *is* out there, and I am so grateful for these photos :) On top of the songs I especially mentioned above, I would also advise people to look for recordings of Tryouts For The Human Race and Popularity from this tour, because the arrangements are probably not going to be the way you expect them to be. And as you might expect: B.C. is stunning live. (I could start a whole rant about Good Morning and Suburban Homeboy live but I think I sufficiently screamed about both in my personal notes on THOM the year prior.) Final note: I know Russell had some sort of dance move for Big Boy because me and another friend couldn't stop talking about it for months. I don't remember what he did, but both THOM and TROTHOM were wonderful for Russell dances <3

#I really needed to get that out of my system and onto the blog :) #I may do one of these posts for all shows I've seen at some point. #(I know I've yet to put my notes from 2023 on here and I've been working on them!) #sparks #sparks (band) #russell mael #ron mael #the revenge of two hands one mouth #trothom #bristol #november 27 2013 #2013 #10's #i was there #I put the whole story under a read more so that you don't have to deal with that if you just want to look at photos :)

[adverbian]

September Song: a Good Omens fic by @harlotofupdog

Go read this gorgeous jewel of a fic that @harlotofupdog wrote for me in the @goodomensafterdark Valentine exchange!

September Song (read on AO3) (rated Mature, 4225 words)

A short while after 1967’s “you go too fast for me,” Aziraphale cautiously agrees to meet Crowley at a jazz club in Soho. It’s dark, smoky, red, and loud, but — for a few hours — it might be an escape.

Summary/excerpt from AO3:

Aziraphale glances up at the neon sign. The curling letters are lit up blue and red above a black awning that gives the doorway below a cavernous air. He’s walked past here before, of course. It’s not far from his shop, and he’s strolled past every salubrious spot in his neighbourhood at one time or another. But he’s never been inside. There are a few shadowy figures milling about on the street nearby, and little muffled sounds of laughter and conversation drift his way. They are nearly invisible in the fog except for the orange glow of their cigarettes that wobble and waver like will-o-the-wisps.

For my review, I can only quote from my AO3 comment:

You took my rambling unfocused prompts, and you made a story that’s deeply vivid and rich and resonant, full of music and history and a particular place and time. I will be coming back to this fic often, whenever I need a moment in this world, on this neutral ground.

#good omens fic rec #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic rec #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens after dark

[iwanthermidnightz]

*excerpts below — but I highly recommend reading the full article in link above*

Hit Me Hard and Soft dunks us headfirst back into that universe, from the deepest wallows of depression to the exhaustion that comes with the world speculating about her every move. There are no arachnids where they shouldn’t be, but getting in touch with her darker side has Eilish finally feeling like herself again. “I feel like this album is me,” she says. “It’s not a character. It feels like the When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? version of me. It feels like my youth and who I was as a kid.”

Although 2019 felt like a whirlwind of madness at the time, she has found herself missing it. “It was the best time of my life,” she says. “This whole process has felt like I’m coming back to the girl that I was. I’ve been grieving her. I’ve been looking for her in everything, and it’s almost like she got drowned by the world and the media. I don’t remember when she went away.”

The title Hit Me Hard and Soft derives from a conversation she had with Finneas, when she mistakenly thought the name of a synth in Logic Pro was called Hit Me Hard and Soft. “I thought it was such a perfect encapsulation of what this album does,” she explains. “It’s an impossible request: You can’t be hit hard and soft. You can’t do anything hard and soft at the same time. I’m a pretty extremist person, and I really like when things are really intense physically, but I also love when things are very tender and sweet. I want two things at once. So I thought that was a really good way to describe me, and I love that it’s not possible.”

Eilish and Finneas call Hit Me Hard and Soft “an album-ass album.” It’s not a concept record, but it is a self-consciously cohesive set of songs, inspired by auteurist works from the past 15 years or so, like Coldplay’s Viva La Vida, Lana Del Rey’s Born to Die, Tyler, the Creator’s Goblin, Marina and the Diamonds’ Electra Heart, and Vince Staples’ Big Fish Theory.

“Lunch,” a complete 180 in both sound and subject content. It’s a sexy, bass-heavy banger where Eilish is crushing on a girl so hard she likens sex with her to devouring a meal. Finneas remembers playing this moment for Interscope and witnessing the team shift in their seats. “What’s funny about starting the album with [the opener] is that it is a total false promise,” he says. “If you’re remembering ‘What Was I Made For?’ and then you hear [it], you go, ‘Oh, OK. I understand this world.’ Then the drums come in [on “Lunch”], and it really is the kill-the-main-character-type beat. It’s like Drew Barrymore being in the first five minutes of Scream and then they kill her. You’re like, ‘They can’t kill Drew. Oh, my God, they killed Drew!’”

Eilish and I spend a lot of time talking about the new era she is about to kick off, and how she’ll promote Hit Me Hard and Soft while prioritizing her mental health, privacy, and well-being. With all of that in mind, I wonder if she’s ready for journalists to pepper her with questions about the album’s subject matter, particularly the sexual nature of “Lunch.” “That song was actually part of what helped me become who I am, to be real,” Eilish says. “I wrote some of it before even doing anything with a girl, and then wrote the rest after. I’ve been in love with girls for my whole life, but I just didn’t understand — until, last year, I realized I wanted my face in a vagina. I was never planning on talking about my sexuality ever, in a million years. It’s really frustrating to me that it came up.”

Eilish is referring to her interview with Variety last fall, in which she mentioned she was attracted to women. The quote — “I’m attracted to them for real” — became a national headline. The following month, Eilish attended Variety’s Hitmakers event in L.A. While on the red carpet, she was asked if she intentionally came out in the story. “No, I didn’t,” she told them. “But I kind of thought, ‘Wasn’t it obvious?’” Eilish then posted about it on Instagram, with a caption that read, “Thanks Variety for my award and for also outing me on a red carpet at 11 a.m. instead of talking about anything else that matters. I like boys and girls leave me alone about it please literally who cares.”

Looking back, Eilish admits she overreacted with the Instagram post. “Who fucking cares?” she says. “The whole world suddenly decided who I was, and I didn’t get to say anything or control any of it. Nobody should be pressured into being one thing or the other, and I think that there’s a lot of wanting labels all over the place. Dude, I’ve known people that don’t know their sexuality, or feel comfortable with it, until they’re in their forties, fifties, sixties. It takes a while to find yourself, and I think it’s really unfair, the way that the internet bullies you into talking about who you are and what you are.”

As for that red-carpet quote that made all the headlines, Eilish says she tried to think of a response that would be entertaining for her fans and the internet. “I went into Billie Eilish interview mode, [like], ‘Oh, I don’t care. Yeah, I’ll say whatever. Wasn’t it obvious?’” she says. “And then afterwards I was like, ‘Wait. It wasn’t obvious to me.’”

Thinking about it now, she draws a bigger lesson from that moment. “I know everybody’s been thinking this about me for years and years, but I’m only figuring out myself now,” she says. “And honestly, what I said was funny, because I really was just saying what they’ve all been saying.” She adds that she liked the journalist she was talking to and didn’t want to be rude. But she still felt exploited. “Bro, I have asthma out here,” she says. “I fucking can’t take a breath.”

If Eilish had the opportunity to do it over again on the red carpet, she says, she wouldn’t have answered the question. But she acknowledges it could have been worse. “I’m lucky enough to be in a time when I’m able to say something like that and things go OK for me,” she says. “And that’s not how a lot of people’s experience is.”

Eilish has officially decided to make some changes to the way she presents herself to the world. “This album, to me, feels like a way to restart, in terms of my sharing,” she says. So let’s take a second to reintroduce Billie Eilish, the home-schooled bohemian who captured our attention as a teenager. She’s 22 now, yet she’s more self-aware than people twice her age. She would like some space to grow, to figure out exactly who she is — no label required. She is not the poster child for anything. And she is not, she’d like to note, a TED Talk speaker. So where does that leave us? Eilish sums things up with four simple words that point to her desire for normalcy and acceptance.

“I’m just a girl.”

#please read the whole article from this link #she really went there #billie eilish

[smitingthewicked]

(little excerpt about hellfire's lyricism from the essay on religion in media I wrote for class)

‎

But there are times when the secular world of modern music and the powerful tradition of religious music intertwine and create something, both removed from, and nonexistent without, the sacred.

Committed to their image as a clean, family-friendly media conglomerate, Disney has long put to rest its raunchier subject material. No more drinking, no more smoking, no more violence. Every movie is smoothed into an edgeless ball of mediocrity, devoid of anything deemed even mildly offensive, all in an attempt to appeal to every demographic possible. Every song is designed to be an earworm, and most don’t mean to convey anything but a desire to sell dolls and CDs.

Then, there was that one time where they adapted one of the most infamous pieces of gothic literature into a movie for children.

Walt Disney Studios’ take on The Hunchback of Notre Dame remains one of my favorites. For as much as people dislike its darkness and lack of child-friendly themes, for as many stories I’ve heard of parents pulling their children out of the theater during its initial release, I will never stop believing that it’s the best in Disney’s repertoire.

And, of course, what would The Hunchback of Notre Dame be without Hellfire?

Including its prelude and thematic opposite (Heaven’s Light, which I will not include in this essay as I fear the length already), Hellfire, at just five minutes and twenty two seconds, stands of one of the most memorable moments in musical history. It is, in my own opinion, the crowning jewel of the film and encapsulates every aspect of what makes Hunchback so controversially masterful.

There is no doubt that Hellfire- and the film as a whole- are indirect forms of religious expression. Devoid of the usual pandering and ingratiating aspects of Christian animated media, it not only succeeds in displaying the benevolent, hopeful side of religion, but excels in its evils as well.

As the dreamy, soft-edged melody of Heaven’s Light fades into the sound of church bells, the song is taken from a gentle allegory of love as paradise to the echoes of Latin chants against stone walls. Here, the hopefulness of Quasimodo’s ballad is sent through a hazy mist of prayers and resurfaces in a rising anxiety.

Claude Frollo (originally an archdeacon, but a judge in this particular version) begins his own song by beseeching Mary. To confront the holy virgin, the sinless mother of God herself, with his temptations, to turn to an immortal woman as an escape from one of flesh and blood. He denies, and then he bargains, and then he denies again. Frollo’s cognitive dissonance from the image of superiority he projects onto others versus his struggles with the moral inferiority he feels within himself, which have been building since the very first minutes of the film, reach their narrative peak here as he ultimately refuses himself capable of sin.

His obsession with his own damnation and his deflection of personal responsibility chase him throughout the song as he faces an imaginary court of hooded monks. The echoes of Latin- the language of Catholicism, as if the church itself is judging him- counteract every desperate claim he makes: “It’s not my fault // (mea culpa)”, which directly translates to “my fault”.

Even the symbolism of fire itself is a double-edged sword. In the context of Christianity, fire both represents pain, suffering in Hell- and cleansing, purification. Frollo’s own struggle with sin, as represented by fire, is complimented by a desire to purify himself of his lust by burning its source. In a literal and figurative sense, he weaponizes his own fear against others- he both resents AND wields the very thing that destroys him. After all, whether fire is hellish or purifying, it still burns.

The song closes with Frollo’s leitmotif, a chorus of “Kyrie Eleison”, an older Greek prayer that roughly translates to “Lord Have Mercy”, and he collapses.

Hellfire, fraught with heavy symbolism, intertwined with such a controversial character, not only represents Catholicism, but some of its darkest consequences as well. A pure revelation of the sacred through creation.

#the hunchback of notre dame #frollo #this is obviously also a very basic and short analysis BUT we like these here and this is the first cohesive thought I've had in weeks #(excuse my cynicism at points)

[doll-elvis]

Hey I was wondering what did Arlene Cogan say about the sleepovers with Elvis, that they were fairly innocent right?

I was actually gonna make a post about this but this is a perfect opportunity to talk about it so thank you so much for asking 💗!!

so I’m about 3/4s through her book (“Elvis: this one’s for you by Arlene Cogan”) and the only explicit thing that has happened so far was the panty check that I posted the excerpt of earlier this week

Absolutely nothing physical has been described besides a few kisses/general affection like hugging and cuddling (also the girls never actually slept over, they were always driven home)

I am really getting the vibe that their relationship with Elvis was more brotherly/sisterly, in fact Elvis even told them he always wished he had a little sister. He was extremely protective of them and didn’t want them paying any attention to other guys (he wanted them all to himself and basically kept them like nuns 🤧)

They even got into a few petty arguments like brothers and sisters do but I really think Elvis enjoyed having these girls around him because it gave him an opportunity to be completely unguarded and just have innocent/childish fun, like swimming, going to the roller rink, playing with firecrackers and other mischievous things

Anita Wood was dating him at this time and tbh I think whenever he needed a break from her, he would go hang out with these girls to get away and that’s why he wanted them around so often👀

here’s a little song that Frances, Heidi and Arlene sung/wrote for Elvis right before he left for army training💀:

“Oh, we’re the girls of Graceland, And we don’t give a damn, We’re out to have a helluva time, And get into a jam, The hell with Pat Boyd, Anita Wood, too, If you don’t like our little song, To hell, to hell with you”

“Elvis rolled over laughing and clapping his hands. He loved it. The laughing calmed down a little and I noticed there were tears in his eyes. “God knows how much I am going to miss y’all,” he said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I love you”

Though they were always with Elvis as a group I think they all had their own special relationship with him and it was all very sweet and innocent

also since this book is so hard to find and is so disgustingly expensive, I’m gonna be working on scanning the book and posting it as a pdf so everyone can read it !! (don’t worry it will be for free, I’m not charging people like that one girl did for the Kathy book smh👀)

sorry but I love these quotes 😩

“Honey, what you’ve got to realize is that I’m a human being just like everybody else. I want you to treat me like you would anyone else”

“Love me”, he said, “but don’t worship me. I’m not a God”

I think that is what Elvis wanted out of every woman he was with 😭 like how he told Larry Geller he could never know if a woman loved him for who he was or if they only loved Elvis, the performer/star

#thank you for the ask #once again Alanna Nash found jobless #I’m so excited to get this book out so y’all can read it #this book just feels so immersive and you really get to see Elvis and his real personality #I love reading female perspectives of Elvis because we get to see such a different side of him #i think he kind of put on a front with some of the memphis mafia #but when he was around women he was just so uninhibited 😭 #ahhh I love this man #Arlene cogan #elvis presley #elvisaaronpresley #elvis #Elvis history #Elvis asks #elvis book excerpts

[allwaswell16]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

Thanks for tagging me @kingsofeverything !

1. List of works published this year:

Netflix Original

A Deal

Do You See What I See 

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet (series)

All This Time

On That Note

Ace of Hearts

Crush

Daydream

One

Heart Beat 

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

Probably Bitter Ends Turn Sweet. First of all, just knowing there was a song called Chicago on FITF had me shook. Then, the first time I heard it, it was just such a fanfic that the whole story was just right there in my head as soon as the song was over. And I was like...nah. I'm not gonna write a long kid fic, right? RIGHT?? I've written angst before, but writing about a child made me emotional in a way I've never felt while writing in part because I was writing a disabled child. And for that matter I wrote a trans character into this fic as well. But I wanted to write this in a way that made it clear how deeply loved and celebrated these characters were to their families and the people around them. Maybe I made their characters have it unrealistically easy, but it's what I wanted for them just as I want that for my disabled and trans family and friends in real life.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I wouldn't say I'm not proud of any of them, but the time stamps I wrote for Bitter Ends are just things that didn't fit into the main story. And I feel like there's a reason they didn't, if that makes sense. But I thought it might be fun for anyone who liked the fic to read those bits of it, which is why I published them at all.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

oof I can never find anything. Here's something from Bitter Ends:

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Gem said it was okay to make mistakes like dancing with the wrong guys.”

Louis nodded, considering. “How about dancing with the right guy?”

Harry’s heart pounded harder, and he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the dancing. “I don’t know. He didn’t say anything about that.”

He’d now lost Liam amidst the dancers, but it was hard to concentrate on that with Louis this close. Louis’ hand splayed out across his back, keeping him close as the beat slowed. 

They’d both dressed in black. And although Harry’s shirt was filmy with a bit of lace and Louis’ a t-shirt sheer enough to see his tattoos through, they were near enough to one another that Harry couldn’t tell where one fabric ended and another began.

Perhaps he could blame muscle memory on why he lifted his arms and wrapped them around Louis’ shoulders, close enough now to feel Louis’ breath at his neck, cooling his heated skin just there as desire zipped down his spine. 

The bit of scruff still on Louis’ cheeks slid against the bare skin of Harry’s shoulder peeking through where his shirt had slipped down, and Harry was thankful for the volume of the bar blocking out the sound of his moan. The whirl of lights danced across his vision, caught up in this moment with Louis.

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

There's this one for Bitter Ends: What a gift!!! What a wonderful, sweet, tear inducing gift of fabulous writing! Every word, every sentence of story building was exquisite. I could do nothing else but read this from start to finish and will reread it again and again. Max was an inspired character, so real and so loved. Thank you for this.

And this one for Ace of Hearts: I had no idea I loved early 19th century pirate stories as much as I do now. I couldn’t leave a comment until I finished reading all the parts. I don’t remember when I started but I did forgot to eat for awhile. I haven’t read a story with so many twists and well written.

And basically every single one for Do You See What I See because they're all the same thing...people yelling at me when they find out the twist hahahaha

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

No one come for me, but I wouldn't say there's ever a time where it's really hard to do. BUT sometimes it's really hard for me to make time for it.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I spent YEARS trying to come up with a plot for a Louis/Cillian Murphy fic. Nothing felt right. And then it somehow occurred to me that what I really wanted to write was Louis/Tommy Shelby and once I figured that out the story immediately came to me.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I always like to try my hand at new things, so this year I wrote girl direction for the first time, some new rare pairs, I wrote an advent fic, both my longer fics are kid fics, which is wild to me lol.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

Whoops. Had to come back and add this in. I just hope to find more time to write and keep finding more challenges for myself.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

If you looked through my author's notes this year, you'd definitely notice how often I thanked @nouies I couldn't have done half of what I did this year without Lou. Her encouragement and making fic posts and reading things over for me helped me enormously. To have someone supporting and keeping me going was just everything. And always @louandhazaf for betaing my fics and always being excited to read whatever new thing I've come up with to write! Thank you x a million, Nic!

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

lol yes. hmmm where to start...Bitter Ends has a lot of my son and the things my family likes to do in Chicago in it. Do You See What I See is based on a FB ad I saw that I found hysterically funny and also based on the animals that run around in the wooded ravine behind my house. Daydream takes place in a coffee shop that I like to go to. And Heart Beat takes place in a fictional version of my hometown, has a fictional version of my cat in it, and has a plot inspired by me spending a lot of time in a converted cathedral listening to my son play the drums.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

I think I say the same thing every year...READ!!! It's important of course to make time for the actual writing. And writing as much as possible if your goal is to become better at it, but analyzing other people's writing is how a lot of people grow as a writer. What is it about your favorite novels/fics that you love? Read or reread them with a critical eye at what exactly the writer is doing so you can try it out in your own writing.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I (think??? lol) I'm only signed up to write for @1dalphalouisfest but I'll probably sign up for @1domegaverseficfest too. And obviously I'll write for my own fest @louisrarepairfest I have this soulmates fic that I've been simmering in my brain for a while and I just recently started to figure a few things out for it. So it may or may not fit into one of those fests.

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

@jacaranda-bloom @nouies @lululawrence and anyone else who wants to do this just say I tagged you!

*All answers should be about works published in 2023

Past years: 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020 , 2021 , 2022

#self eval #self eval 2023 #writing things

[wist-eri]

rapid analysis of what some of the descriptions/footnotes possibly mean

usually i wouldn’t put this on my main account, but since the other blog i would post it on is a little more in-detail on average, i decided why not (i think you know which blog i’m referring to)

so yep! i read some of the footnotes and added some personal analysis as to what some of them could mean. i’m positive the song used in the new DRDT MV will be “bungaku shoujo insane,” based on the similarity of the thumbnail as well as some specific footnotes, so a lot of my analysis will be based on that song and its lyrics

anyways

[1] In this situation, it is better to use full names over nicknames. Exclude our protagonist—he is not "that person." not sure what this means yet. we’ll have to see.

[2] Other examples include Drosophilia melanogaster and E. coli. don’t know if this is intentional, but drosophila is misspelled. (they wrote it as “drosophilia”) either way, both are often used in school experiments in order to develop a further understanding of genetics and genetic material (and how it’s transferred). 

[3] From Title 17 of the United States Code. referring to copyright laws in the United States. the reference may be more apparent in the released MV, similarly to some other footnotes—after all, the original “Bungaku Shoujo Insane” video has some moments where they simply show excerpts from famous texts. this may be one of them that’s featured specifically in the DRDT version of the MV

[4] The practice of avoiding the number four; it is most common in East Asia. This superstition arises from the fact that the number four can be read similar to the word "death" in multiple languages. self-explanatory.

[5] As the translation has been intentionally botched in many parts, it should not be considered accurate. this could be a separate author’s note to one of the texts referenced in the MV—we’ll have to see.

[6] (Prayer) no idea but i don’t feel like searching the bible for this one /hj (i think there might be a prayer written in text in the MV though)

[7] Seven is considered an auspicious number in many Western cultures. Let's just skip it. also self-explanatory.

[8] 'Tut, tut, child!' said the Duchess. 'Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it. excerpt from Alice in Wonderland. don’t know how important that’ll be in the future—could be referenced directly in the MV? 

[9] no respect for the classics smh hold on let me see if there’s a lyric mocking classic literature- 

[10] The Roman numeral for 10 is X. imagine there’s an X with a footnote and it’s just this

[11] I admit to lying. There is no one named OOOOO OOOOO. I am, and always have been, an only child. a lot of theories about this, but regardless of whether or not this statement is true, it could be a reference to diana chiem, arturo’s sister, david himself even (i’ll explain later), etc. either way, this footnote seems to be more about one of the characters in the DRDT cast than anything

[12] "Majority rule" is known to be the fairest method of making decisions for a group. That's why murderers never complained when we voted for them to die. just a random question, but you know what a majority vote is? /ref this may also be a reference to this lyric:

rough translation + wiki info: to be, or not to be—i have no idea! but let’s decide, with a democratic method!

[13] 正 character that’s often used to represent something that’s “correct,” “right,” or “just,” speaking from experience. additionally, it’s sometimes used as tally marks in a few eastern countries (china, japan, etc)

[14] Hint: word length of 256 Hamlet’s soliloquy, which starts with “to be, or not to be—that is the question,” is exactly 256 words (at least, according to this source). Additionally, this soliloquy is also referenced in one of the lyrics in this song (see [12]—the first line is actually one of the more well-known Japanese translations of “to be or not to be.” additionally, a few lines from the text are actually shown in the MV at that point), so that may be what it’s referring to

[15] “Ignorance is bliss" is an idiom used to say that it is better to remain ignorant about certain harsh truths, in order to avoid causing oneself stress. The expression comes from a 1742 Thomas Gray poem ("Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College": "Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." might be a stretch, but possibly a reference to this lyric?

(rough translation: things like the meanings(?) behind art, you’d be happier not knowing)  (note: the word used for “art” here encompasses all types of media, which include dance, writing, etc.)

i feel like this is specifically referring to how it’s better to be ignorant of the meanings behind certain actions and words, than to be aware of the dark implications behind them. this is a stretch though. do what you will with it but i think this is referring to one of the characters and their actions + true meanings behind them *cough* david *cough*

[16] While it was originally intended to serve as a military march, today it is most commonly recognized for it's association with circuses and tomfoolery. the exact song that this footnote refers to is Julius Fučík’s “Entrance of the Gladiators.” This is a song that’s featured in Bungaku Shoujo Insane, and it can be heard in the interludes—in fact, this footnote is what pointed me to Bungaku in the first place

[17] Not a real word. Can't be found in any dictionary. this might be an actual translation footnote of the song, since it’s definitely not unheard of to have words in japanese that don’t have an english translation and/or words that don’t actually exist. whether that’s actually in the lyrics i don’t know but i’ll have to look into it

[18] A/N: soz not very good at drawing flowers lol!!! i find it weird how this one specifically has A/N (author’s note)

[19] A dialogue between two individuals that serves as a discussion of moral and philosophical issues. this is known as a socratic dialogue. not sure how this is important yet

[20] It is considered by many to be outdated, providing little-to-no insight on human nature. unfortunately i don’t know what this is referring to, but it will likely be made clear in the mv. my first thought was actually the enlightenment documents, since a lot of those discuss the inherent nature of humanity and how it’s “regulated” by society and government—but i’ve never heard it being called outdated, so that’s kind of a stretch.

someone said it could be an excerpt from one of Sigmund Freud’s works, which honestly, would make total sense-

[21] Deriving from the Latin phrase "Et cetera" : meaning "and other (similar) things", "and so forth", or "and the rest (of such things)" : abbreviated to etc., etc, et cet., &c. or &c

also pretty self explanatory. however, i have no idea how this fits in the MV

[22] The rest is silence.

no idea about this one.

anyways if you have suggestions please feel free to reblog with them 🫠 i have no idea what’s going on and tbh 90% of this is me trying to grasp at straws

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #despair time #i think y’all know who i am #especially now that i’ve posted this #but eh. it’s fine #it was obvious from the beginning anyways because of the way i type ghshghdh

[eluvion]

elektra natchios aesthetic

/

Villain - Searows / Never Love an Anchor - The Crane Wives / The Oresteia - Aeschylus / Antigone - Jean Anouilh (tr. Lewis Galantiere) / Planet of Love - Richard Siken / @moldavite / H of H Playbook - Anne Carson / Anecdote of the Pig - Tory Adkisson / @exigencelost / Things haunt - Joshua Jennifer Espinoza / Wishbone - Richard Siken

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[Image ID:

Picture 1: Two sets of lyrics, one from the song "Villain" by Searows, and one from the song "Never Love an Anchor" by The Crane Wives. The lyrics from "Villain" say, "I started a war / I'm gonna fuck it all up / And I'll probably pay with my life / And I know you told me / That everything's fine / But I wrote this story / Before it was mine / And I know there's a villain / But I'm worried it's me this time." The lyrics from "Never Love an Anchor" say, "I am all the things they might have said to you / Do you ever think of me and my two hands, and wonder why? / They never soothed your fevers / And wonder why / They never tied your shoes / And wonder why / They never held you gently And wonder why."

Picture 2: Two quotes from the Oresteia. The first one says, "1. Enter here knowing that she is already dead." The second one says, "Orestes: (highlighted) This was always going to happen. She's been dead since the beginning."

Picture 3: An excerpt from Planet of Love by Richard Siken. It says, "so smile for the camera, it's your big scene, / you know your lines. / I'm the director. I'm in a helicopter, / I have a megaphone and you play along. / because you want to die for love. / you always have. / Imagine this: / You're pulling the car over. Somebody's waiting. / You're going to die / in your best friend's arms. / And you play along because it's funny, because it's written down, / you've memorized it, it's all you know. / Isay the phrases that keep it all going, / and everybody plays along."

Picture 4: A quote from Jean Anouilh's Antigone. It says, "In a tragedy, nothing is in doubt and everyone's destiny is known. That makes for tranquillity. There is a sort of fellow-feeling among characters in a tragedy: he who kills is as innocent as he who gets killed: it's all a matter of what part you are playing. Tragedy is restful;…”

Picture 5: A headline that says, "Calf born with third eye on forehead--but still destined for slaughter."

Picture 6: A quote from the H of H Playbook by Anne Carson. In normal text, it says, "Brief pause. I'm walking backward into my own myth." In strikthrough, it says, "I was trying to walk out."

Picture 7: A excerpt from Anecdote of the Pig by Tory Adkisson. It says, "Do you still believe myths / can save you? Foolish creature. / Let me be clear: every version of the story / ends with you being slaughtered."

Picture 8: A post from @exigencelost. It says "She's dead she's immortal she's haunting you she doesn't care about you she's muzzled she's screaming at the top of her lungs she's unnoticed she's unforgettable she doesn't have control over the story she doesn't have control over her body she doesn't even have control over her voice. And I'm obsessed with her."

Picture 9: A quote from Things haunt by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza. It says, "Things haunt. / Things exist long after they are killed."

Picture 10: A black silhouette of a man's bust with red lines extending from a gunshot hole in the middle. This silhouette is layered on a red background, the same color as the lines extending from the center of the man's bust. In fragments, a quote from Richard Siken's "Wishbone". It says, "I'll be your / slaughterhouse / your killing floor / your morgue / and final resting."

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#elektra natchios #web weaving #tragedy #im normal about her #greek tragedy elektra natchios fic #now with image ids!! apologies on how long that took i was on my phone