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greatwyrmgold · 2 months

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A Thematic Analysis of Starship Velociraptor

Those familiar with Galactikraken's debut album might think thematic analysis of Starship Velociraptor is pointless. Its songs are quite obviously about whatever the band members thought was rad, and I won't disagree with that conclusion.

But that conclusion is incomplete. I've listened to most of the album over and over, and there are patterns in what Galactikraken considers rad. There are three recurring points that I'd like to draw attention to: Anti-authoritarianism, wealth, and piracy.

A couple quick points. First, I will use "Galactikraken" to refer to the metaphorical narrator of these songs and the collective voice of Johnathan Young and his band members. Second, I'm mostly discussing the songs, and will bring up the animated music videos when they compliment or contrast the songs' narrative in some interesting way.

Now, let's start where the album does.

Glory or Gold

What's rad? Piracy Pirates mentioned? Obviously

Appropriately, the first song in the album clearly establishes its primary themes and focuses on the recurring motif of piracy. Its chorus clarifies the thesis:

So hoist up the Jolly Roger, we're taking a ride. Take back the life that they denied. For glory or gold, we sail across the galaxy, Our sovereign starship flying free. Forever, our treasure taken from plutocracy. We've all got mouths to fuckin' feed. So it's a pirate's life for me!

Relevant conjecture: Any sentence containing a word ending with either "-archy" or "-cracy" will make a political statement.

In this case, Galactikraken seems critical of plutocracy. They don't adopt a pirate's life because they want to be rich and famous; they do it because their lives were denied by the wealthy elites, and they still have mouths to feed.

Verse 1 hones this criticism beyond the vague concept of plutocracy to what I can only call capitalism.

All of my crew and I are wanted for the highest form of treason: For questioning authority demanding we sweat and bleed and slave our lives away, then call it freedom.

I don't know what Galactikraken's real-world political beliefs are. But I know what they wrote, and this? Profiting off the sweat and blood of an underclass, and claiming that that underclass is free? That's capitalism, baby.

"Glory or Gold" isn't a detailed or nuanced critique of capitalism; it's a sail-by broadside against its worst excesses. But it's there, and it's worth examining. Practically every line of this song is condemning the "plutocracy," holding it responsible for everything that drove them to piracy.

I also feel it's worth pointing out that this song mixes "authority," "plutocracy," and "the crown". Part of this is presumably because those lines sound good with those specific words, but it also means that we can't assume every king in one of these songs is a literal king. That's just how symbolism works—especially in music, where the words you use are limited by rhyme, meter, and whether the word's sounds sound good with the other songs in that line.

Best Band in the Universe

What's rad? Music, hubris, profanity Pirates mentioned? Only if you assume all songs in the album are about the same group of pirates, in which case pirates are mentioned in all songs

I don't have much to say about this song, because I personally don't like it, because of reasons that are completely irrelevant to this post.

What is relevant to this post is that one of the reasons Galactikraken declares itself "super cool" is that they "break the rules". That anti-authoritarian streak is present.

Settle it With a Swordfight

What's rad? Swordfights, especially ideological ones Pirates mentioned? Yes

This song is the second-most-obvious example of Galactikraken just writing songs about cool stuff. Which isn't a criticism, it's a statement of fact. I like "Settle it With a Swordfight," but beyond being cool, it's kinda dissonant with the rest of the album.

Well, if you roll with us and you’re not seeing eye to eye, A problem on the crew you know that words just won’t revise. When there’s nothing left to say, you’ve got to let your blade reply. Someone’s gonna die. (Settle it with a swordfight!) If we can’t tell just who’s right, (Settle it with a swordfight!)

Anyone who watches shonen anime knows the kind of fight this song is about. Two characters disagree, and they come to blows over it. The resulting fight challenges both characters' conviction and ideals as much as it challenges their strength and skill. It's undeniably cool!

It's also pretty much the only time a song in Starship Velociraptor praises violence against pirates. And it's absolutely praised, "Cold steel can justify your sins" and all that. Other songs in the album praise violence of various kinds, but violence against authorities, not fellow pirates.

Hyperspeed

What's rad? Speed, starships Pirates mentioned? No

This song is pretty straightforward. The first line tells you what to expect:

The only thing that gets me high is going faster than the light.

There are some love-song undertones in there, but this is mostly a song about going fast and why going fast is cool.

If you sail away with me, we'd escape reality. So accelerate in one, two, three!

Speed and flight are common symbols for freedom, a theme which is pretty prominent in this album. "Hyperspeed" fits this reading like a glove, and its music video even more so. (In my opinion, "Hyperspeed"'s music video fits it better than any of the other animated music videos.)

Army of Tigers

What's rad? Tigers, armies Pirates mentioned? No

"Army of Tigers" poses a bit of a problem for this analysis.

On one hand, the tiger general attacking the Sun could be symbolic. The Sun might represent an unjust authority, a world order most people see as natural and benevolent, even as it "sends us cataclysmic cancers" and stuff.

On the other hand...

Quench the final fire, extinguish heaven's light! I command an army of tigers. Defeat the Sun tonight!

That's a hell of a chorus, and that might be reason enough for Galactikraken to assault that castle in the void.

Storm the Castle

What's rad? Regicide Pirates mentioned? Not really

We will not be prisoners in a kingdom taken hostage by her crown.

Is a kingdom really mighty when for a sick and starving child it doesn’t care?

Storm the castle, kill the king!

Even if the word "monarchy" isn't technically used here, my prior conjecture seems pretty relevant. Whatever the king represents, Galactikraken hates it. And we've talked about how fluid symbolism can be.

But why does Galactikraken want to kill the king? I'd quote relevant lines, but that's like half the song. The king deserves death because of how the kingdom suffers under his rule. He says that he's protecting the kingdom, when he's the greatest threat to the people.

The hypocrisy is part of the problem, but for the most part "Storm the Castle" focuses on the "countrymen...drowning in despair". The king isn't bad because of some abstract notion of freedom, or because he's an ugly pig monster, or even because he's a liar. He's bad because his wealth starves the common people.

(Which is part of why I think "Storm the Castle" has the worst animated music video. It focuses on the cruelty of the wolves and the malice of the secret pig demon thing, making the evil more individualized and less systemic. Yeah, the fat pig monster in throne armor makes a cooler fight scene than a cowering aristocrat surrounded by elite guards, but trying to make that part cool undermines the song the video is supposed to support!)

Anyways. The song is literally a call to action, albeit against a fictional/allegorical king. The peasantry (proletariat) need to put aside their petty concerns and unite against the crown (against authority, against plutocracy). This isn't just a matter of political philosophy; we've all got mouths to fucking feed.

The obvious thematic resonance between "Storm the Castle" and "Glory or Gold" is the whole reason this post exists.

Starship Velociraptor

What's rad? Luxury starships Pirates mentioned? Surprisingly not

This song is the most obvious example of Galactikraken just writing songs about cool stuff. Which isn't a criticism, but it's absolutely impossible to ignore after writing about symbolic regicide.

To be balanced: "Starship Velociraptor" is, in part, expressing the same kind of fantasy as "Hyperspeed". The fantasy of zooming around the galaxy in a super-fast starship is a key part of the song.

But the titular starship has comfort, speed, and style; moreover, comfort gets more focus than speed and style more than comfort. The starship isn't "the finest ship in the galaxy" because it's practical, but because it's opulent.

Practically every description we get of the starship focuses on pointless opulence. "Hardwood floors instead of tile," "leather seats," "a fridge that's full of meat," "that holographic suite". Sure, that stuff was written because it rhymes, but most of it rhymes with itself. Galactikraken picked a bunch of cool-sounding stuff that rhymes to describe their cool starship, and most of that stuff is opulence.

I don't want to shame anyone for wanting opulent stuff, but the focus on opulence is remarkable, considering most of the album's more negative perspective on wealth.

His keep ship could shelter hundreds, His gold meat could feed far more. I have just one last question: What are you waiting for?!

It would be one thing if the song was about a bunch of pirates stealing some plutocrat's yacht from under his nose and using it as their flagship, but it's not. It's basically a car ad?

You've got to get it You can buy on credit Our payment plan, you won't regret it, yeah

The song feels deeply consumerist, like an ad manufacturing desire for pointless luxuries. And this consumerism is played straight. I don't like "Best Band in the Universe," but I recognize that Galactikraken was trying to make its hubris the butt of the joke. I don't get that sense from "Starship Velociraptor". It's just an earnest luxury car ad.

The music video is a bit different—perhaps the biggest gap between music and video on the album. Part of that is aesthetic; the animated starship looks practical, tile floors instead of hardwood. But it also plays up the escapism potential of a starship.

Part of this is because the video's central character is an ordinary Earthling who literally escapes her boring office job to board the starship, but part of it is because we see the starship doing stuff. We spend some time focusing on the interior, matching the lyrics; most of the rest of the video is focused on 90's sci-fi anime action. The starship zooms through space, it gets into battles, the central character hangs out with space people on and off the ship. The animation focuses less on the starship as an object than as a place where cool things happen.

Man the Cannons

What's rad? Wooden ships and iron men Pirates mentioned? Kinda

I mean, pirates and pirate iconography aren't mentioned, but who else on the high seas has cannons and swords and boarding actions? Marines, I guess, but that doesn't fit the treasure focus or the anti-authority vibes of the rest of the album.

Anyways. "Man the Cannons" doesn't introduce much new thematic stuff. Ambiguous piracy as a path to freedom, rad treasure, rad swordfights, teamwork makes the dreamwork. ("And if we band together, so it shall be.") And anti-authoritarianism, of course!

Defying law and nation, defying god and king. Through trial and tribulation, we smile and sing.

It works, I don't dislike the song, but after going through most of the album, I have nothing new to say about this song.

Jetpack Race

What's rad? Jetpacks, flight, escapism Pirates mentioned?

You know how I've talked about speed and flight being symbols of freedom? This song all but turns that into text.

A cog in some machine, you're chasing after dopamine, you wish that you could find a way to fly

Despite the upbeat melody and tempo, "Jetpack Race" has the second-bleakest lyrics of any song in Starship Velociraptor. The verses and half of the chorus are talking about the dreary mundane life that the jetpack races are supposed to let you escape from!

You didn't ask for this, but ignorance is bliss. You wish that you were just content to be a drone. You know we're all the same, the world's a joke and life's a game, And even all together, we're alone.

It's easy to miss behind the three-digit BPM and C♯ major key, but that's cynical. Especially that last line, which asserts that the solidarity praised in the rest of the song is an illusion.

For me, the most meaningful line is "Running a race that can't be won, you'll feel like you came in last." The ordinary life that Authority wants you to live is a scam that can't be run, that does its best to make you feel responsible for your failures, no matter how untrue that is. That's why we hoist up the Jolly Roger...or put on a jetpack, I guess.

10,000 Light Years

What's rad? I dunno, pining? Pirates mentioned? Via synonyms like "outlaw" and "privateer". (Bah, privateers are pirate sell-outs.)

If "Hyperspeed" is a spaceship song with love song undertones, "10,000 Light Years" is a love song with spaceship undertones. Being aromantic, I do not understand why all y'all allos would like being lonely and wishing you weren't light-millennia from the stranger you got a crush on.

But I do understand themes, and some of the familiar ones pop up through the romantic(?) longing. Like the bit where Galactikraken mentions "sign[ing] my life away off-world". Ultimately, the conflict in this song is caused by the same thing as in most Starship Velociraptor songs.

Our own enemy within, drowning us in despair. The crown, authority, plutocracy. The forces demanding that we sweat and bleed, then call it freedom.

It's also worth noting that the tempo and key are more mournful than most of the album, which makes the last song feel less aberrant.

Final Frontier

What's rad? Not. Us. Pirates mentioned? No

For our home we destroyed, so we sail onto the void For an undiscovered system far from here. If the wind takes our sails, if we live to tell the tale, For the end of Mother Earth is drawing near.

To wherever the wind may take us, Lady Luck, just don't forsake us. If we're ready or not, this is our judgement day.

But who can trust us once they learn why we're adrift, If we can't even trust ourselves? We are but insects, undeserving of their gifts. We all deserve to burn in hell.

Yeah, that beats "Jetpack Race".

"Final Frontier" is a powerful song, and it's stronger for the obvious contrast with the rest of the album. The worst emotions the other songs tried to evoke were romantic nostalgia and righteous fury. "Final Frontier" is nothing but despair and shame.

Does it fit with the themes of Starship Velociraptor?

Well, it has nautical metaphors and space as escapism (of a sort), so there's some recurring motifs.

Our greed and vanity have brought this final shame...

Ah, yes. Plutocracy.

The "burning bed our fathers made" is global warming, pollution, mining runoff, the Holocene extinction, a thousand other little ways that "the crown" fucks over the planet to extract every nugget of gold, literal and metaphorical.

This is what happens if we obey authority, if we don't defy law or nation, if we just chase after dopamine until it's too late. This is the future if we don't kill the king.

Exiled humanity and all of us to blame

We all deserve to burn in hell

I don't know how I feel about this.

Is "Final Frontier" condemning every man and woman on this planet, holding them all responsible for what we've done, because it's ignorant of humanity's power dynamics? Because it doesn't notice or care about parts of the "burning bed" that only burn marginalized humans and not forests?

Or is it holding us responsible for the king's greed and vanity because we didn't stop him? Because we didn't rise, stand, and fight? Because we didn't work hard and persevere? Because we rejected the pirate's life?

Is that right? Is it wrong? I don't know. But that's what the song says.

Weaving the Threads

Let's start with the symbol I've referenced the most. The crown, the sun(?), authority, law and nation, god and king, plutocracy. The bourgeoisie, the men who control the world's wealth and power, using that control to profit off the blood, sweat, and tears of the proletariat.

And then there are pirates. They're only directly mentioned in a fraction of songs, way fewer than I assumed before I actually counted. What do the pirates represent? They're the highest form of treason: Questioning authority. The pirates first seek their own freedom against the tyranny of authority, and then rise in rebellion share that freedom with others. It's all very One Piece.

When you realize what the pirates represent—freedom and rebellion—you start to hear it in all but one of the album's songs. They are speed, they are escapism, they are space itself. They get you off the brakes, they storm the castle, they defeat the sun. You even hear it through the consumerist haze of "Starship Velocity," in the freedom of owning a starship.

This political purity is marred a bit by idolizing the space pirate lifestyle alongside what it represents, idolizing the violence of swordfights and the luxury of space travel and the individualism of whatever's going on in "Jetpack Race".

But the pirate's life is consistently framed as cool because it breaks the rules, because it resists authority. Everything the album frames as rad is connected to anti-authority pirates, directly or through association. And it's everywhere in Starship Velociraptor...

...except "Final Frontier".

The entire album builds up the symbol of the pirate, of freedom and revolution. And then it shows us the world where the pirates lost, or where they never existed. A world where the king ruled until the world was no more.

...

Maybe I'm just projecting my own political beliefs onto an abstract text. Maybe a Nazi or Libertarian could interpret these songs in a way that fits their worldviews. But this is what Starship Velociraptor means to me.

It's a lonely night in hell above this broken privateer, Running a race that can't be won, you'll feel like you came in last. Is a kingdom really mighty when for a sick and starving child it doesn't care? They ask us why we must reply with violence. So let me take you for a ride. 'Cause you clearly have good taste Nothing that we can't achieve, if we only just believe. Your eyes can tell you know you need Takе your freedom, claim your right, For the end of Mother Earth is drawing near. Man the cannons, draw your sword. You're gonna kill that fuckin' guy! Defeat the sun tonight!

#galactikraken #jonathan young #starship velociraptor #themes #music

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maxleo · 2 months

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Currently trying to listen to something other then Taylor Swift. My friend gives me suggestions. I listen to the albums, I have stupid thoughts about the songs, and now I'm on Tumblr.

First suggestion by my lovely friend @momsforroadhead : Troye Sivan

Bloom

Seventeen : I really like the idea of starting the album with the loss of virginity, the theme and sounds make a nice bridge with the last album. The yearning is still here.

My, My, My : Probably my second favorite song on the album. The chorus is still stuck in my head at the weirdest time. It's at this point that the album really feels like a departure from the last.

The Good Side : I still don't know if I hate it or love it. I really like the idea of apologizing to someone you wrote songs about that furthered your career. And some of the line are gorgeous. But the repetition of "sympathize, recognize, apologize" feels so fucking grating, to a point it almost sound insincere.

Bloom : Like the vibes, still not sure about the garden and vegetal references.

Postcard (feat. Gordi) : Love the pre-chorus, the idea of feeling a relationship falling apart and pleading with the other person. But a postcard in Japanese ? Also was it send as a registered package ? To a P.O Box ? Like, how does the narrator knows it wasn't picked up ? Did the guy really just receive a postcard in his letterbox and left it ? Because if the level of care is that low, yeah probably didn't give a fuck about it been written in Japanese.

Dance to this (feat. Ariana Grande) : I'm not sure which song is the horniest of the album, but a strong contender right here.

Plum : The chorus gives "No effort, no couple therapy, love only lasts seven years" and the verses are just fucking tragic. And it works so well.

What a Heavenly Way to Die : This being just after Plum is hard, but after reflection it would be so much worse the other way around. Really captures the vibe of an afternoon by the poolside. Would bet money that it was use for multiple OTP clips edits.

Lucky Strike : At first listen, I thought that the first verse was about the narrator talking about his partner to a one night stand, and like, lovely sentiment. Then I remember that switching from second to third person is just something that happens in songs. Still don't know what to do with the fact that the only two songs to describe a person as "spring-like" is this one and Plum. My favorite song on the album.

Animal : The horny catholic references are finally here. Nice closer.

#troye sivan #music

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xjustlikeyou · 2 years

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The TAI/Midtown Aftershow

This is what I wrote when I got home re: the VIP experience of the Aftershow

Feel free to message/ask if you want clarification about anything because most of it is not even full sentences. It was just things I didn't want to forget.

(Also if someone has a better memory than me and has the actual Midtown set list - hit me up)

———

TAI soundcheck -

We were really late going in. Jon posted the pic of TAI soundchecking while we were all still in a line outside and we were all like ???? (Also this venue loved lines. We started in one, then went to another, then went to a third, fourth, and fifth).

We were kept in the venue for a bit and heard all of About A Girl in the stairwell before they let us in.

We walked in to everyone on stage but Will who walked in as we were filtering in and was so fucking bashful. I was directly in front of Will (and somehow survived).

"I left and went to the bathroom and came back and there's all these people here! How did that happen?"

They were all so fucking happy and playful and joking and teasing and complimenting each other which made my heart so happy. I legit never thought I'd see them together again - much less SO HAPPY. They were all so appreciative and I still can't believe it happened.

I think Carden talked the most out of all of them. Partly because Sisky didn't have a microphone unless he stole someone's which he did a few times.

After the first couple takes:

The butcher - “this takes the edge off”

Mike - “yeah!! It should always be like this. Like a soft opening. This is great. I love this.”

Will - “Agreed. But it’s more, well more like a warm…no. It’s not. I’ve made it weird.”

I’ve already gotten so overwhelmed I forgot all that we saw

I know Big Mess, some of LAX, Bulls in Brooklyn, About A Girl again, Phase maybe? Def one or two from Almost Here. At one point they were going to do verse and a chorus of a song and we and Will kept going into the second before trailing off. Will shrugging and kinda giggling - "well, we all just got so excited - I forgot we were stopping."

GABE WATCHING THEM the whole time. - Hugs all around and x2 for Will. He's so fucking proud of them. And supportive. Everyone deserves a hype person like he is for them. Jesus. I have so many feelings.

Mike (roughly): "So, uh. We've been rehearsing for this for a week now. It's really good to be doing it for people other than ourselves. I mean, Gabe flew in and sat on the ground and watched - he's actually over there still watching - and he said we were good but...ya know. We're glad you're here."

Will immediately starting to walk towards Gabe to get his hugs and then coming back, "Shhhh, he's not supposed to be here. It'll be our secret, okay?" DEAD. SO DEAD.

Fucking incredible vocals - Will sounded so so so good. They all did but I just. SO GOOD.

Ian being Ian - had his slide and wanted to play fancy things and was adorable

Sisky not having a microphone - "Yeah, why don't you?" "I don't know where it went." "We can get - " "NO NO NO no microphone."

Snakes on a plane - fan try outs - Sisky leading with Carden and everyone ragging on Gabe (who refused to come out but did pretend to take notes on everyone's performance). They pulled 3 people from the crowd to try out for the rap. Completely impromptu supposedly. Mike kept stressing they had not planned on doing this. But Sisky kept saying it'd been 17 years and he still hasn't figured out how to play bass and rap and was not going to try.

Will's panicked little "wait, what mic are they going to use? This one's mine" and cradled it to his chest broke me.

Sisky said it was going to be crowd participation but also sort of chose himself too.

Will had tea and was very precious about it.

“I’m warming up and so are you”

To go from shy and awkward to chills and just pure happiness

THAT MAN BELONGS ON A STAGE ALWAYS.

The protect trans live pin. I’M STILL NOT OVER IT.

Legit we all got chills halfway through just because it was so special and actually happening and none of us could believe it. Will literally rubbed his arm in the middle of a song and called it out and just ugh.

At one point, he did this little mic catch, looked at Gabe, did it again, and was just so proud of himself.

Mike constantly ragged on Gabe and it was the best.

Mike: “So I blocked an extra hour for Midtown’s soundcheck because Gabe needs it. You think you need 2 hours of vocal warm-ups? I think you do."

“Is it 7:30 yet? I promised Gabe we’d be off by then.”

It legit felt like a performance minus the stopping and adjusting and it was just so relaxed and so happy and I - it was worth everything I paid for and more.

---

(We start the very slow process of waiting to meet the TAI boys and get to see the beginning of Midtown’s soundcheck)

Meeting them - all of them were so so so so nice and it’s so fucking overwhelming to have all of them right there talking to you at the same time. I was shaking violently and the security guard was trying to calm me down LOL. "Mike's an ass! He's just a dude. They're all just dudes. It's going to be great. Just breathe." Easy for you to say, sir.

They were all very lovely and immediately tried to calm me down but somehow being circled by them all IS NOT CALMING. I thanked Will for wearing the pin and shared what their music/scene has done for me and DIDN'T CRY. so yay. Success. I felt a lil bad because I turned and had started to talk to Will (to thank him) and Carden immediately turned to Sisky to talk amongst themselves before looking surprised that I was addressing/thanking all of them and they were all so fucking sweet. I can't. I love them all so much.

But it was so fucking overwhelming that I nearly walked directly into Gabe who was still soundchecking out on the venue floor almost 2 hours later. You def can’t say he doesn’t care. He legit moved out of my way and I went to stand back in line and the person I was next to was like "....you nearly took out Gabe, you know that?" FML. Sorry, man. I WAS SHOOK. The person who took photos I thought took two but turns out she takes them the whole time so I have 7 photos and all of them are embarrassing. But I'm glad to have 'em.

We got a TAI...tote with a signed lanyard card thing and a sticker of the new logo and the gabilliam poster.

We got sent to wait in another line which ended up being so long we just stayed and they scanned our tickets and we could go in from there after we got our merch. We got to see Jon soundcheck and some people called out Happy Birthday. That fucker started to play Sins just to see us all whip around and laughed. He teased a few other songs bc he's Jon.

--------

Jwalk

He started early and people were still coming in. I felt really bad for him because everyone was talking to the point it was hard to hear him over the chatter. I was getting seriously annoyed because he's got a beautiful voice and his songs are bops and it was really cool to see them live.

"I actually borrowed this acoustic from Siska and it has cobwebs in it."

Someone near me aggressively yelled happy birthday to him again and Jon was all "uh, thank you? Happens every year." And moved on.

He played most of his recent stuff and was so good

—————

MIDTOWN

Gabe crediting tyler with midtown coming back and then my chem:

Gabe - “so mikey called and said can you play some shows?

I said we suck, bro.

And mikey said ‘so practice’

And here we are.

Talked twice about not remembering why he stopped touring until he wakes up the next morning and remembers he’s “an old fart with a bad back”

His kid’s roblox - took a picture /video of the crowd with it. "My 3 year old asked me to bring his roblox with so I don't forget him so I'm taking a picture of it with each crowd, is that okay?"

Tyler immediately: "Yeah, none of that is true. He just bought that."

They were so happy and so grateful and bantering back and forth and just so appreciative.

Played over their time by 2 songs - “We’re out of time? Fuck it. Let's keep going."

“On our last Midtown tour - we toured with the academy is and struck up a friendship that will last forever. Like for real. The type of friendship that continues on even after we’re dead. I love those dudes so much.”

DEDICATED TWO SONGS TO THEM. A Faulty Foundation and No Place Feels Like Home.

“Whose going to riot fest tomorrow? Sorry. We’re playing the exact same set there tomorrow. Deal with it. We’ve only got so many songs. Forgive us.”

“The my chem tour - 98.5% of the people there won’t know who we are. Obviously you guys are amazing and do know us but we wanted a song that everyone and maybe even their parents knew and could have a good time with so Tyler had written one once and it’s finally time to play it” - Tyler talked about a writing session that went bad then played When You Were Young.

They were so good!! Gabe's bass broke halfway through. And two songs before the end he said he'd lost his voice and kinda took a step back vocally

Rough set list:

Become What You Hate

Like A Movie

??? (I forgot what came next)

Just Rock N Roll

Get It Together

When We Were Young

So Long as We Keep Our Bodies Numb We're Safe

A Faulty Foundation - dedicated to the TAI

To Our Savior

No Place Feels Like Home (Also dedicated to TAI…)

Empty Like The Ocean

Give It Up

————

TAI… absolutely fucking incredible from start to finish. It literally felt like no time had passed at all.

GABE. GABE COMING OUT FOR CLASSIFIEDS - unplanned. Surprise. Will flustered AF. MORE HUGS FOR MIKE AND WILL.

AJ and Mike for Attention - hugs after all around.

SNAKES ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE

Will being so bashful and appreciative and stumbling over his words and I cannot with him.

I don’t understand how they’re not a bigger band.

They’re so fucking amazing.

I have no complaints. Would have changed nothing besides the fact it had to end.

I hope someone gets the setlist together bc I can’t. (Edit: They did)

Set List:

The Phase That Pays

About A Girl

Slow Down

LAX to O’Hare

Season

Sleeping with Giants (Lifetime)

Classifieds (WITH SURPRISE GABE CAMEO)

Bulls in Brooklyn

Black Mamba

Very 1st Lie (Cover of Material Issue’s song - a local Chicago band active in the 90s)

Attention w/ AJ and Mike D

Big Mess

Checkmarks

After the Last Midtown Show

Encore:

Snakes on a Plane

———

Legit, I will never regret having flown out here to do this. I didn't think the Projekt Rev 07 tour could ever be toppled from my fav concert of all time but this did it. I will never forget this.

#the academy is aftershow chicago #tai reunion #may edit this later #but there ya go #i'll add pictures later #i gotta go catch my flight home

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no-gays-in-russia · 1 year

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ESC 2023 pre-rehearsals top 37

Places 10-1

10. Croatia: I know this is very unpopular, but I give absolutely zero shits about that. I adore this song with my whole being- I just love these sort of weird political satire songs, when they’re done well. This reminds me a lot of In Corpore Sano or Hatrid Mun Sigra, a couple of my favourites. When I first heard it, listening to the Dora song, I was HYSTERICAL. It sounded so random and ridiculous. I found myself singing it more and more, craving listening to it and bopping to it. It became my favourite and when it won I was SO EXCITED. I was not expecting it at all. Another unpopular opinion, but I love their live performances- they’re of course absurd, but I realise they do it for shock purposes and honestly they’re so hysterical they just have me rolling on the floor lol. Again, I am a huge fan of joke entries WHEN THEY’RE DONE WELL, and I think this song has a brilliant structure. The lyrics are also of huge complexity. Hope others recognise this genius in Liverpool!

9. Norway: the fact that Ulrikke was my favourite and I really wanted her to win MGP but then Alessandra’s final performance was SO GOOD that I decided last minute to vote for her instead just says a lot. This girl is absolutely on fire- she is one of the most charismatic and energetic performers I have ever seen, and her vocals are insane. I am obsessed with the fact that she is singing such a modern sounding song with classical technique. I love the intro in Italian and Latin, the whole song sounds so epic and the lyrics are also very vivid and poetic. It’s just ajdoiahoahochaocjoa so insane.

8. Serbia: KONSTRAKTA’S WORTHY SUCCESSOR! Serbia proving once again why they’re one of my favourite Eurovision countries. The fact that Luke wrote this song entirely himself- music and lyrics and all- just proves how insanely talented this man is. His performance abilities are also insane. The song is a bit cacophonous, so even though I can tolerate it because that’s the whole point that’s why it’s a little lower than it could be- while it’s genius and I love it, it can be a little hard to listen to. But do we want to talk about the lyrics? They are some of the most genius lyrics I have ever heard in my entire life- on the same level of In Corpore Sano, if not even better! Something that I find brilliant is the English-Serbian alternation- the lyrics in English present all of the elements characterizing the song, and the Serbian lyrics delve deeper into them, so that you can understand what the song is about even without knowing Serbian, but you have to check them out too to truly understand it. The way the different themes and symbols intertwine and interact is also of insane complexity.

7. Czech Republic: this is the best entry Czechia has ever sent. Genuinely speechless they could do something like this all this time and just settled for mediocrity? Mad too ngl. Unfortunately their live performances drag this down, but the song in itself is brilliant. I love the alternation of the four languages, the symbolism behind their use and the dynamism that comes from it. The structure is absolutely brilliant, everything about it- the intro in Czech, the verses and pre-chorus in English, the chorus in Ukrainian, the rap in Bulgarian, the bridge aaaah. And the lyrics are also beautiful with a great message. So epic and so catchy, hope they give a better performance than usual at ESC because the song itself deserves to get Czechia’s best result.

6. Estonia: this is giving me huge North Macedonia 2019 vibes, and it’s one of my favourite ESC songs ever. This song is genuinely so stunning, just a masterpiece, and so so underrated. Alika is an absolutely beautiful performer- her voice is so rich and beautifully controlled, and she also has such a stunning way of conveying the emotions of the song on stage and dragging the viewer in. It is very theatrical and as a theater kid I love it lol. It is beautifully structured, I love the way it grows gradually, and it’s just so dark and rich in emotion. So so stunning.

5. Spain: this is so so so very different from anything we’d ever heard at Eurovision before, one of the most original songs this year for sure. I love that it reprises traditional Spanish sounds with the flamenco-like rhythm (Blanca herself said that this is a flamenco song), but also plays with it to create something entirely different. It’s slightly unsettling too, like a weird uncomfortable dream- I love it so much. I think it’s peculiar that if you look at the structure it’s actually really repetitive, yet somehow while you’re listening to it it seems really different, dynamic and engaging. I don’t know how it works but it does! And of course, Blanca Paloma is an angel- we already know from last year that her vocals are insane, delicate and powerful at the same time, beautifully controlled. ¡Vamos allá, la Blanca Paloma!

4. Georgia: unpopular opinion maybe but Georgia is one of my favourite countries at Eurovision, because you almost can’t find a pattern in their entries and you know that you’ll always be surprised. And well, I definitely was not expecting this. This reminds me a lot of their Junior Eurovision 2022 entry, which was my winner- so of course I am obsessed with it. The reason why it’s a bit lower than it could be is that the lyrics are atrocious- they seem as if they were written by someone who barely knows English lol. But everything else is incredible. Again, we already know Iru has some insane vocals (she didn’t win Junior Eurovision for nothing!), and they fit the song really well. I also really enjoy the “industrial”, dark pop ballad sound of the song, and I think the "Chamgaraga-ga-chamgara“ bits are so different and peculiar and cool. The instrumentation is beautiful, and the song is powerful with great structure. My favourite Georgian entry ever.

3. France: at first I was mad La Zarra was chosen because I hoped Izia or Juliette Armanet would represent France this year, but then they come out with this?! This is so aggressively French in a different way than I was expecting- it’s classy and cynical, while also being fun, catchy and modern. The lyrics are brilliantly written, La Zarra is incredibly charismatic and fascinating to watch, and the structure is really dynamic. Another big contender for the win.

2. Germany: for years I’ve been saying, “Germany has amazing rock, why won’t they just send something they’re good at?”. They finally did it! I legit cried when Lord Of The Lost won their selection, because I love this song so much and I wasn’t sure they would pull it off. I didn’t even have a clue glam metal was a thing but now I am obsessed with it. I just really love this personally because I love this kind of music, hearthy and melodic rock. Chris’s vocals are wonderful and I think the genre of the song itself makes it dynamic- alternating bits with big, harmonious instrumentation and more typical metal bits is genius imo. The lyrics are also really poetic and vivid.

1. Sweden: I really don’t know if I have the words to express how I feel about this song. I have been saying for years that if there is someone else after Johnny Logan who deserves to win Eurovision twice, that is Loreen- and she’s just proving I was right. Loreen is one of the most stunning performers there have ever been: she has a way of dragging the listener/viewer in that is just so peculiar to her. More technically, this is an insanely difficult song to sing (source: I am rehearsing it for my music recital and at the end I feel like I’ve run a marathon) and the fact that she sings it with seeming ease WHILE also moving and doing everything she does is??? Wot. The song itself is also really good (I actually like it better than Euphoria lol), with good structure and a beautiful instrumental bit, but exactly as with Euphoria it’s Loreen’s performance that actually makes it exceptional.

#eurovision #eurovision song contest #esc #eurovision 2023 #eurovision song contest 2023 #esc 2023 #please don't let loreen flop #i will be spending all my money on voting for her #i will go bankrupt just for her #i love you loreen #i love her a bit less because i tried to make my friends from san marino get me an autograph from her #and the poor dudes really tried #but they said it's literally impossible to get near her #not cool loreen #oh well #still obsessed with her

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eurovision-del · 1 year

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19. The Netherlands – Burning Daylight

I’ve been on a bit of a journey with this one. It’s probably my biggest grower of the year – I wrote it off when it was released, but now I think it’s a very good song. The muted piano works to create this intimate sound and the melody is beautiful in its simplicity. I love a descending line, so I really like the tune on the chorus. The outro is my favourite part though, that’s where it all comes together and makes me fall in love with it – the music swells and gets all intense there, the voices harmonise for the first time which sounds great in the studio cut, and it really gets to me. The whole message of burnout and struggling to keep going is one that I find painfully relatable, but the outro brings some hope with the idea that you can grow past it and say goodbye to that old life.

However, I have a couple of reservations. Firstly, I don’t think this needed to be a duet. Aside from a couple of random interjections which serve more as backing vocals than anything else, Mia doesn’t come in until the second verse – in fact, the first couple of times I heard this I was surprised when she started singing, Dion had been singing for so long I’d forgotten this was a duet at all! Splitting the lyrics between two voices adds nothing to the message, and they barely harmonise, singing the chorus in unison, only having an extended harmonised section in the outro, which could have been achieved with just backing vocals, since they’re already used there anyway! Their vocal timbres are also quite different, with Dion’s being much rougher than Mia’s – in my initial notes on this one I wondered how they’d blend live – the answer is unfortunately they don’t. Even if they’re just pre-parties, the two performances they gave were both filled with tuning issues and were generally awkward, and dampened a lot of my enjoyment for this song. Maybe they’ll find a spark of chemistry in rehearsals, but I expect this will be a song I much prefer in the studio cut rather than live.

#eurovision #esc2023 #2023 ranking #I think this is the highest I've ever ranked a song that was still a personal non-qualifier #there's still ten songs from semi 1 to come!#netherlands

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9-piglet-9 · 1 year

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building site outside

I wrote this song at the final hurdle of receiving a prescription for gender affirming hormones. I'd been through the bulk of the ridiculous assault course of nhs assessments, a process which took at least 3 years (which sounds like , and was , a long time , but by today's standards would be considered a mad stroke of luck). Some highlights of this absurd process include obtaining a diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria (being trans is not an illness lol , but here we are) and being asked extremely invasive and irrelevant questions along with a hundred other things that I have no interest in revisiting. I wrote this song after going to my gp for my first testosterone injection , only to find that they hadn't received the necessary documentation from the gender identity clinic , they told me to come back in 10 days in hopes that things would be sorted by then . This was by no means the biggest obstacle I had faced in accessing treatment , but for some reason it hit me particularly hard , so close yet so far or something like that. Its quite a literal song which describes me walking to and from from the GP surgery and how I was feeling throughout the verses , interspersed with the chorus which describes the interaction I had with the pharmacist a while later after receiving the prescription. We had always had a very nice relationship previously , I'd been in and out of the pharmacy every couple of weeks for the previous year and a half and we would always have a nice chat and a bit of a laugh. When I handed her the prescription for testosterone her attitude towards me changed completely , she no longer looked me in the eye or made small talk , instead staring straight through me as if I wasn't there . Again , this is on the very lowest end of the scale in terms of the hostility trans people face in every day life , but sometimes the small things stick with you . They're easier to address than the bigger things anyway , in my experience . I'm very lucky to be able to say that I've been on hormones a good few years now and have been able to have surgery on my chest through the nhs too , for which I am eternally grateful . I can't describe the immensely positive impact that these things have had on every day of my life since then

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independentartistbuzz · 24 days

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SINGER-SONGWRITER AND INFLUENCER CORY SINGER UNVEILS INSPIRATIONAL NEW PROJECT "LONG TIME COMING"

Singer-songwriter Cory Singer has just released his latest single and music video, “Long Time Coming.” The single, which combines elements of indie and feel-good music, promises to uplift audiences with its inspiring lyrics and catchy melody.

Known for his captivating performances and exceptional songwriting skills, the promising talent penned “Long Time Coming” as a testament to his perseverance and triumph. Reflecting on the songwriting process, he shared: “I wrote this song back in 2019. I felt very dissatisfied musically at the moment, so I wanted to write an uplifting song. I just picked up my guitar and started finger-picking the chord progression on the guitar. The lyrics literally came to me right away, and the song was finished in a half hour. The idea was a song about finally making it. Ironically, I am so passionate about this song; it was recorded from my first take in the vocal studio.”

Drawing inspiration from iconic artists like Frank Sinatra, the track blossoms with elements of gospel and piano, coupled with his vocal prowess, aiming for an epic and soul-stirring sound. “I was very fixated on Frank Sinatra at that time, and the two songs that inspired me were “That’s Life” and ‘My Way.” I knew that this song was gonna be epic. Plus, I wanted to showcase my vocals and show people what I could do. I also want to inspire others to never abandon their dreams.” Singer remarked.

“Long Time Coming” exudes a powerful message of hope and determination that transcends borders, taking listeners on an immersive journey led by an emotive delivery and poignant verses. From the pulsating energy of the chorus to each poetic line, Singer leaves a lasting impression on listeners, ensuring the song’s impact lingers long after the final note fades away.

For Singer, “Long Time Coming” marks another milestone in his illustrious career. A versatile performer, Singer has graced arenas nationwide and starred in BRAVO TV’s singing competition, The Kandi Factory, where he emerged as the grand winner. In addition to his musical endeavors, he has been recognized and celebrated for his advocacy work for individuals on the autism spectrum, using his platform to spread positivity and promote awareness. He truly has become a well-recognized social influencer. He loves that he can use his music and social platform to inspire and help others, he also stated that, “I want to be recognized for my music, songwriting and craft. Not because I am autistic and talented, but because you like my music.” - Cory Singer

Singer’s philanthropic endeavors extend to his roles on the board of directors for the I Am Able Foundation. Esteemed publications such as PEOPLE, Hollywood Life, Rolling Stone, and more have recognized his influence and music. Despite his growing prominence, with over half a million followers across his platforms, Singer remains focused on his passion for music and songwriting. Singer has also been featured on Good Morning America, has performed the National Anthem for several major national sporting events, and has even shared the stage with none other than DJ Khaled at the Best Buddies Gala in Miami, FL.

“Long Time Coming” is now available on all digital streaming platforms.

#Spotify

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chorusfm · 1 month

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Gileah Taylor – “Sweetness Surrounding” (Video Premiere)

Today I’m so excited to bring everyone the latest video from ultra-talented songwriter Gileah Taylor, from her new album Slow Parade, called “Sweetness Surrounding.” It’s a song about putting on a happy face while feeling sad and lost, and fits well for fans of Big Thief or Boygenius. When speaking on her new single, Taylor mentioned, ““I felt lost and wanted to be by myself, to a scary point. I recognized where I was and decided to make a change. I took steps to feel better, like taking morning walks, choosing the good things around me, and listening to the birds.” If you’re enjoying the latest single, please consider purchasing Slow Parade here. You can also check out some insight on the new single from Gileah Taylor below. Exclusive quote: “I usually write songs in less than an hour. “Sweetness Surrounding” was different. I started it one evening and finished it a few days later. It took several days for the words to come to me, because as I woke up and lived my life and went back to bed again, I realized what it was I wanted to say: I’ve been in the dark but I’m looking for a sunrise and I don’t want to be alone anymore. When I wrote “Sweetness Surrounding,” it was just my old Wurlitzer upright piano and me. My producers, Gideon and Gabe Klein, took the song and made it sound like the classic songs I was thinking of in my head when I wrote the melody in the chorus. I’d recently watched Echo in the Canyon, a music documentary featuring 1960s and 1970s bands from Laurel Canyon in LA. At that time in history, there was so much happening, and many of the songs reflected what was going on in America. But the film focuses on the joyous parts of making music in a creative community. I wasn’t very familiar with the artists who were behind the Laurel Canyon scene in general until I saw the documentary. When I watched it, I realized that I would like to write beautiful, timeless songs like the ones featured in the film. I definitely was hoping that Gideon and Gabe would take it in that direction, and they did. The strings are especially lovely as they kind of move the song along to a sweet and hopeful ending. “Curtains flung wide / Seeing outside / Like it’s my first sunrise again” from the second verse makes me gulp back tears when I sing it. It reminds me of the first sunrises I experienced after a long season of sadness. For a long time – a couple of years – the sun’s rising only reminded me of how much I didn’t want to get up and be part of my own life. When I finally came out of that darkness, I couldn’t believe how spectacular those first moments of the day can be. To me, this song reminds me of classic Hollywood films, easy on the eyes and easy on the ears. At least, the end result is often so beautiful that I forget how much work went into the production. I once enjoyed a show by a magician who quoted the magician and illusionist Doug Henning: “The difficult must become habit. Habit becomes beautiful. Beautiful becomes magic.” I find all of these inspirations to be quite magical. And I hope that my own music is a magical experience for the listener. --- Please consider becoming a member so we can keep bringing you stories like this one. ◎ https://chorus.fm/features/gileah-taylor-sweetness-surrounding-video-premiere/

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jordandazur · 4 months

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january 19 2024 12:40

Well happy new year. It's been a couple weeks since my first post of this nature. I haven't been working on music at all since then. I don't like that! Life is incredibly stressful atm so I just haven't had the drive to sit down and think. I won't bore myself by writing out all the details right now. But I just finally wrote the lyrics to a song I've been working on for a while now! It's probably my favorite piece of work so far. I don't particularly think it's like game changing or anything but it's mine and I'm proud of myself for doing something like this. This is the closest I've gotten to a finished song in a longggg time. So that is something to celebrate regardless.

Today, I had the drive. I've been sick all week so it has felt good to sit down for a couple hours and just create. Although, I struggled with that. I couldn't get a foothold on any other song I've been working on so I went back to my song "Homestead" to finish writing the lyrics. I had a chorus and a refrain/outro written but I was struggling to just write one verse. Short verse. Very easy. Especially for a song I thought I had a very good grasp on conceptually. But for the longest time I just couldn't hear it in my head. Tonight I got sick of that and forced myself to listen to the empty verse over and over until I was humming a melody to myself and mumbled the first lines of it! Slowly I uncovered more of the verse as I listened to it again and again until boom verse is done.

Excepttttt.... I'm not sure how I feel about it. I like it, like a lot actually. But in the context of the song........... it sounds good because EYE know what the song is about. I understand my good intentions in wanting to write a song about finding community and casting out imperialists and fascists from my home. But it kind of sounds like a republican trying to kick immigrants out of America. Honestly, I kind of like that! It feels like a honey trap for republicans. Taking their own dogma and using it against them. Well, not against them per se. I believe most republicans are just everyday working class people who have been coerced into believing that all of this mess in America is the only way of life. I see them as a deeply sick and lonely and corrupted group of people. THIS IS NOT A HALL PASS FOR THEM BY ANY MEANS!! THEY WILL PAY THEIR REPARATIONS!!! But... they're humans nonetheless. Humans who have been exploited and manipulated into misery. Which they then project on to anyone who doesn't look or think like them. Not great! But I see this song as showing them the light; showing them who we should really be casting out of our land. (Neoliberal corporatist fascist coastal elites powers-that-be demons from hell and their lackeys hiding amongst the working class; whatever despicable name you can think of to call these people)

So this honey trap would hopefully teach them to love other people??? I doubt it. But this song is also a call to my comrades as a reminder for what we're fighting for. Peace and land and bread!!! In the song I write a lot about "my home" and telling "them" to "go back to where they came from" which sounds rich coming from a white person. I am not claiming to be native (fuck every Coloradan with the bitchass "COLORADO NATIVE" bumper stickers... you're not fucking native dumbass) but this is my home regardless. I am european by descent but I have known no other home other than this one. I don't consider myself european and I have no place to return to there. THIS is my home. I don't like that my ancestors were part of a settler colony and stole this land but now it is in my hands, for better or for worse. I like to think that I will do better with it. I want to protect this land. I want to steward this land. I want to honor this land and those who cared for it before me. Give this land back to the indigenous people who rightfully own it and I will do what it takes to care for it alongside them, like their ancestors did. I am fully aware of how fucking white I sound right now. I am doing my best to be aware of my heritage and the damage it has done. Taking care of this land (and it's people I should add) is one of the ways I know I can do some good.

I want this song to encapsulate these feelings of love and respect. I also want it to ignite a level of anger and pride. This is OUR home. Capitalists can fuck right off. This land is not for sale or exploitation. This is MY HOME!! And I will do what I can to protect it and honor it. Through that, I know we can find peace and harmony. Through community, we can protect each other and our home. I don't expect many white Coloradans to be on board with this but to my friends and family, we can make some good out of our existence here. It may not have been our choice to be born on stolen land but it is our choice to give it back and aid in its protection. We can listen to the land, and we can listen to its owners. LAND FUCKING BACK!!! NOW!!!

Have I rambled enough yet?? Writing a song like this, even knowing that no one will hear it, is anxiety-inducing. This song is not patriotic but I like that it pretends to be. It's just frightening to think not everyone will understand that. Maybe I'm writing this post to have some proof of my good intentions. Maybe I'm writing this to convince myself that the song is fine! It's both actually. And I'm gonna shut up and post the tentative lyrics. I suspect they will change in small bits but I need to record vocals in the studio next week so this is pretty much it!

TL;DR: I wrote a song about land back and finding community and casting evil out of our homes. It makes me anxious to think the message could be misconstrued (coming from a white person) but I stand firm with my take!

HOMESTEAD by Jordan d'Azur

Come cool my mind

If you would like

And I will play your harp

And open up the skies

Come stay the night

And we will find

That peace and land and bread

Await our eyes

Feel myself get high

Mountain to sky

This home I call

This land of mine

Our arms will raise

Their knees will fall

This land we love

Go back to where you came from

Find light and love in your own

Go back to where you came from

Leave me to be in my home

Go back to where you came from

Our blood has spilled enough, oh

Go back to where you came from

Leave me to be

Come cool my mind

If you would like

And I will play your harp

And open up the skies

Come stay the night

And we will find

That peace and land and bread

Await our eyes

Go back to where you came from

Leave me to be in my home

Go back to where you came from

Fuck off get out of my home

Go back to where you came from

I’ll die before you take this

Go back to where you came from

Leave me to be

#jordandazur #stream of consciousness #mess #landback

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dustedmagazine · 1 year

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Cian Nugent — She Brings Me Back to the Land of the Living (No Quarter)

Photo by Joey Gavin

She Brings Me Back To The Land Of The Living by Cian Nugent

Cian Nugent first caught our ears as a Takoma-style fingerpicker, one of the younger players on the third Imaginational Anthem compilation, alongside Mark Fosson and Stephen Basho-Junghans. His Doubles, in 2011, followed a similar path, offering two side-long solo acoustic compositions in the style of Jack Rose’s transcendental blues raga. But like Steve Gunn, Nugent has refused to be boxed into the sometimes musty and archival pre-war blues category. He got his teenage kicks out a couple of years ago with the rollicking power pop outfit, The Number Ones, carrying on a ragged romantic tradition of bands like the Undertones. Now, with She Brings Me Back to the Land of the Living, he ventures into song-structured country folk rock, a la Zachary Cale, Red River Dialect and that Gunn fellow we just mentioned.

Nugent wrote these songs while caring for his mother after she suffered a stroke (she painted the cover image while recovering in the hospital), and while they don’t overtly focus on illness and mortality, they have a ruminative, inward-looking bent. Consider, for instance, the lovely “Sound of the Rain,” taking shape out of shadows and wavering tones of pedal steel (that’s Dan Lead who plays with Norah Jones and Cass McCombs, among others). Nugent’s delivery is unhurried and without drama, as he evokes the late-light drift and reverie. “Sitting here with the window open, I can feel the rain coming in,” he sings with a worn-in nonchalance. “The lamplight unbroken like some cigarette skin, cast out into a wind to melt away, I’m hearing the sound of the rain again.”

The band is really rather good, including not just Lead but Nugent’s co-producer and drummer Sean Carpio, Garvan Gallagher (once a young Nugent’s music teacher) on bass and the viola player Ailbhe Nic Oireachtaigh. Irish jazz icon Greg Felton plays the piano and the Zelig-like percussionist Ryan Jewell turns up for a track as well. The arrangements are subtle and unshowy, whether in the loping, open-ended “High in an Airplane” (which reminds me a lot of Steve Gunn’s Eyes on the Lines material) or the pensive syncopations of “Pass the Time Away” (where I’m hearing a bit of Ryley Walker’s song-based style). That latter song continues in “How the Time Passes,” an atmospheric instrumental which carries on where the verse gives out with blues-tinged riffs and antic rhythm and a mad swirl of Irish fiddle. It’s a reminder that, while Nugent may dip into verse chorus structures when it suits him, he’s never going to be bound by them, and it is a fitting climax to this moody, gorgeous album.

Jennifer Kelly

#cian nugent #she brings me back to the land of the living #no quarter #jennifer kelly #albumreview #dusted magazine #folk #rock #ireland

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princehrry-writings · 3 years

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Daddy?

happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I've been working on this for a couple weeks!! It's the longest one-shot I think I've ever written.

word count: 5180

please please please flood my inbox with your thoughts and comments!! i want to know what you think!!!

warnings: some swearing (i think), absent birth father, single mom, nothing too serious.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her.

Y/n is a single mom and Harry wants to be a part of the family.

Getting pregnant was definitely not something Y/n wanted to be doing at 20 years old. She had a boyfriend and the career of her dreams but as soon as the news broke, one of those things was no longer true. Her ex skipped town faster than she could even finish telling him she was pregnant, so Y/n was left to her own devices since her family was so far away.

She was a songwriter. She had worked with all the big names in the industry from Taylor Swift to All Time Low. She was known for being able to write in any genre, that’s what set her apart and why people were clawing at the chance to work with her.

And then she got pregnant. She kept writing songs until she was eight and a half months along but due to minor complications, her doctor had ordered her to stay home. So she did. She stayed home, had the baby, and raised her all by herself. Now that baby, whose name is Stella, is four years old and is traveling the world with her mom. Y/n had gone back to work when Stella was a year old. At first, she would leave her baby with a sitter, but eventually, she got to a point where Stella was old enough to come along to writing sessions and quietly color or play with toys in a corner. She really liked going to work with her mom. She got to see a bunch of cool places and meet a lot of nice people.

And one of those people was Harry Styles. Y/n had met him a few times back when he was with One Direction, had even tried to work with the band a few times but things never lined up right. But now he was making his second studio album and only wanted the best of the best to write with him so naturally, he called Y/n. Harry knew she had a kid but he didn’t expect her to bring said kid to a writing session. Harry didn’t really mind- he loves kids, but his friends had been known to curse a lot and he didn’t want to cause any harm to the child.

He made sure to give everyone a stern talking to, even though Kid already knew to hold his tongue (his little ones had repeated some colorful words a few times). He wanted everything to go right, needed it to. Y/n was more than just another songwriter.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Harry smiled as she walked into the studio. She smiled back, walking into his open arms for a hug.

“Thank you so much for having me, I’m super stoked to be working with you!” She said, slightly muffled by his neck. Harry looked down behind Y/n and saw a little girl that looked exactly like the woman currently in his arms looking right back up at him. When the two pulled away Harry was quick to kneel down to her height.

“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.

“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.

“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.

“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”

“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.

“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.

“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her. Although he wasn’t mad, he understood Y/n had to teach her not to say things like that even if they were funny.

When Stella had settled at a table out of the way of the adults in the room with her coloring book and a juice box, the work began. Y/n and Harry sat at a piano bench ( he hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart) while Kid and Mitch, along with Jeff, sat scattered around the other furniture in the studio.

“So, I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been sitting on that I think you might like. You can look through this and see if there's something that catches your eye.” Y/n said, handing Harry a notebook. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt run up her arm when their fingers brushed. He flipped around the pages, noticing random little doodles in the corners and in between lines, and the somewhat messy but readable handwriting. He thought it was cute how she connected her s’s to her t’s and k’s when she wrote.

One page, in particular, caught his attention.

Golden, Golden, Golden

As I open my eyes

Hold it, focus

So you take me back to the light

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken

So you wait for me in the sky

Brown my skin just right

“Is this a verse or a chorus?” He asked, pointing it out to her. She shrugged saying she didn’t really know yet but it would probably be a verse.

“I like it a lot,” He said and she smiled, picking up her guitar and strumming it to the tune she had thought of for the words. He listened and nodded along, already getting ideas for where to go next.

“I like the golden thing. I think that could be a good hook, something like we’re so golden,” Kid spoke up, tapping his fingers along to what she was playing.

“Or you’re so golden,” Mitch suggested. Harry and Y/n’s eyes widened at the same time, both looking up at each other when they heard the line.

“You’re so golden, you’re so golden…” Y/n hummed.

“I’m out of my head, and I know what you said about hearts get broken,”

“How about I’m out of my head and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken,”

“I like that better, yeah!” Harry smiled, nodding along to the beat.

Y/n looked over 30 minutes later to see Stella had sprawled out on the floor with her arms folded beneath her head, first finger stuck into her mouth, and she smiled, breathing out a laugh.

“She’s so precious,” Harry murmured from beside you. Your gaze found his and the smile on your face widened a little bit.

“She is, isn’t she.” She said, pride present in her eyes.

“Looks just like you as well,”

“Yeah thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if she had ended up looking like her sperm donor,” Malice dripped from the end of her phrase. Y/n couldn’t even entertain the idea of her looking like the man who helped create her. That nerve was still a little raw, not because she had any remaining feelings, but because he had abandoned not only her but the beautiful baby girl who was napping not 15 feet away from her. She figured they were better off without him, yet her heart always shattered a little when Stella asked if she had a daddy like the people she sees on tv.

“I couldn’t imagine finding out the woman I loved was pregnant and then leaving her, any real man would have stayed.” His eyes were genuine, which she appreciated. Most people would say they felt sorry for her, pity dripping from their gaze, but she didn’t need pity, didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. But what Harry said was out of pity, he just honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would abandon a child.

“Yeah well, I guess I just wasn’t the woman he loved.” She said, looking back at her baby. Stella made all of that pain from when he disappeared worth it.

Harry wanted to be able to take that pain away.

---

“Hey I know it’s late, but I have this idea and I want you to hear it,” Harry’s raspy voice chimed through the speaker of Y/n’s phone. She glanced at the time, reading 1:30 AM, and sighed.

“Ok,”

“Come open the door,” He said.

“Wait what? You’re here?”

“Yeah, come on. It’s cold out here.”

“Ugh, hold on,” The woman sighed, hanging up and tip-toeing out of her room so her footsteps wouldn’t wake the sleeping four-year-old in the next room over. Her door was open and she was a light sleeper.

The door swung open and Harry stood there with a small smile on his face, burrowing as deep into his coat as he could to shield himself from the cold air outside.

“Hi!” His cheeky smile made Y/n’s heart flutter.

This was the first of many times he would show up at her place in the middle of the night.

---

Another night of Harry coming over late with a song idea he couldn’t wait to show Y/n, although now it was more he would come over after Stella fell asleep and the two would watch movies and talk, and sometimes write songs (even though the album was done).

The pair were perched on the couch in a heated conversation about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza (it does and that is a fact not an opinion) when the sound of little footsteps caught their attention. They both looked up from where they sat at the sound of loud crying coming down the stairs, seeing a small child with tears barreling down her face, cheeks flush an angry red, first finger stuck in her mouth, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Y/n cooed, getting up and sweeping her into her arms. She went and sat back down on the couch, cradling the baby to her chest, brushing her hair out of her face, and rocking her back and forth.

“Scawwy dweam mommy,” She hiccuped into her mom’s neck, where she hid her face. Her tiny hands clutched onto her shirt, finger stick tucked between her lips.

Harry held back a coo at the little girl, feeling himself fall further and further for the little family of two sitting before him. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off of them since that first day he met Stella. He’d always had a schoolboy crush on Y/n since they first met all those years ago but knew it was one-sided when she introduced her boyfriend one of the last times they had seen each other. As fate would have it though, they found their way back to each other. Neither of them could deny the feelings they held, but Y/n was scared to bring someone into the picture because she didn’t want Stella to get attached to someone who wouldn’t be permanent. She was lucky her ex left before he ever got the chance to meet Stella, the kid had no clue what she was missing, therefore didn’t have any pain due to her absent father.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t imagine Harry stepping into that role. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He was at a time in his career where he didn’t have time to be the father of a four year old.

But life is full of surprises.

“Hawwy.” The baby whimpered and crawled off of Y/n’s chest, into his lap and snuggled her head right into him like it was where she was meant to be all along. His heart just about burst when the little girl fisted his shirt, tucking herself into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her into him and rocking her back and forth like her mother had been only moments ago.

Stella calms down almost immediately, to Y/n’s surprise. It usually takes her a while to console her baby from bad dreams, but all Harry had to do was hold her, and boom, no more tears.

“You alright petal?” He cooed into her hair, soothing his hand up and down her back to keep her calm. She nodded, letting out a huge yawn and closing her eyes, falling back asleep in his arms.

Y/n was astonished. Stella had never fallen asleep on anyone but her mom or her grandmother. She’s known Harry for a few months and was acting like he’d been there her whole life.

“Wow… she loves you.” Y/n whispered, not really meaning for him to hear but he did and his smile gave her the impression that he loved her too. But Stella wasn’t the only one he felt such affections for.

“Y/n....” He starts after a moment of silence, “I know this sounds crazy because we’ve only truly known each other for a few months… but I’ve had feelings for you for years. I missed my opportunity when you got with your ex but I’m here now, and I love you, and I love Stella, and I would do anything to stay in both of your lives if you’d have me. I want to be here for you, and I want to be here for her as well.” His confession shocked the woman sitting across from him.

Y/n was quiet, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while she took in what he was saying. Trying her best to keep her fantasies of playing house with him at bay, she spoke.

“Harry, as much as all of that sounds lovely, you’re about to start press for the album and then go on tour. You’re not gonna have time to be in a relationship, and as much as I wish I could just jump into something like that, I can’t. I have her to think about…” She gestured to the toddler sleeping on him.

“She needs consistency, her life is already hectic enough.”

“So come with me!” He spouted, and then retracted a bit realizing he could wake Stella up.

“What?”

“Come with me! You two travel around already, so come on the press tour with me and then come on the big tour with me! I know this sounds impulsive and it’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said in my life ever, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. I know what I want Y/n, and that’s to be a part of this family. I want to be a part of your lives!”

“Harry, I-”

“Please Y/n. Give me a chance! I won’t let you down!” The gleam in his eyes shows her that he’s serious. He really does want this. Harry just hopes that Y/n can see just how willing he is, how much it would mean to him to have (what he already affectionately considers to be) his girls with him on tour.

It’s quiet, only sounds of Stella’s even breaths and the light noise of her sucking on her finger fill the room. Eventually, Y/n gathers her thoughts, mind made up.

“We’ll try it out… see how it goes….” She said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. Harry’s smile grew tenfold at her confession, reaching over and bringing her face closer to his to kiss her lips, careful not to wake the baby in his arms.

He had never been happier, Harry decides, than he is right now.

---

“Hawwy?” Stella’s voice catches Y/n’s attention from where she sits on the plane, in between her and Harry. She turns her little head to the man sitting in the aisle seat, big round eyes staring right into his.

“What is it, lovebug?” He asks, pushing her wild baby hairs away from her eyes. Y/n did her very best not to coo at the two of them. Harry had fallen perfectly into step with the mother and daughter, like this duo had been a trio all along. She was still hesitant to think of him as a father figure for Stella though, just because if things went south somehow, she didn’t want her baby suffering a loss like that (a second time).

Stella’s little fists rubbed at her tired eyes. She let out a small ‘hmph’ and laid her head on Harry’s arm, wrapping her own little arms around his.

“Awe you my daddy?” She asked and Y/n choked on her spit, looking back over at the toddler.

“Stella, baby-”

“I would love to be your daddy lovebug, but that’s not really up to me…” He spoke and glanced up at Y/n quickly, trepidation clear in his eyes. Harry was afraid he might overstep. Sure he knew that things were still new between him and Y/n but he wanted nothing more than for Stella to think of him as her dad.

“Who’s it up to?” Y/n could tell she was about to fall asleep but was fighting it in order to get her answers. She had adjusted to a more fast pace schedule quite nicely. She slept through most plane and car rides and absolutely loved being backstage at concerts. Harry thought she looked so adorable with her big noise-canceling headphones on. They had been on the road for a few months now, and it had been 8 months since Y/n decided to give him a chance.

“It’s up to mummy, baby.” He answered, his fingers tangling into his chestnut curls in a futile attempt to keep them out of his face.

Stella’s head immediately whipped to look at her mom, who sat frozen in her seat, not knowing what to do.

“Mommy, is Hawwy my daddy?” She repeated her question. Y/n had a feeling that Stella thought Harry was her real dad, the one that her mom didn’t like to talk about. She had to make sure there was no confusion.

“Not like you're thinking he is, baby. He’s not your birth dad, he didn’t help mommy make you, but if you want him to be your daddy, then that’s ok with me.” Y/n locked eyes with the man sitting across from her with a smile on his face. She was glad that they were flying private because she really didn’t need anyone ruining this moment for them. All her fears of this not working out felt stupid now.

How could she ever think that things with Harry wouldn’t work out? He was right where he belonged.

---

“Daddy!”

“Baby!” Harry knelt down to catch the running (almost) 5 year old, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms. They were in England for two weeks on tour. One for shows, and one so that Y/n and Stella could meet Harry’s mom and sister for the first time as a part of the family. Y/n had met them before as “a friend of Harry’s” many years ago, but they had never met her as Harry’s girlfriend, and they hadn’t met Stella.

Currently, Harry was in the middle of a show and Stella had just escaped her mothers arms side stage in favor of running to her dad. Y/n still couldn’t get over saying that. Harry is Stella’s dad. She doesn’t think that will ever get old.

No one knew how serious the relationship between Y/n and Harry was. The public knew they were together (after a very vague post on instagram of the mother/daughter duo napping with the caption “my girls”). Many people thought this was a PR stunt, just because it was so unlike Harry to post something like that. But he had actually confirmed in an interview that, yes, he was in a relationship with the songwriter and it was pretty serious. That was all he chose to say, in favor of keeping his secrecy, as he so famously loves to do.

What came as a shock to the audience was what the child had called Harry. They all knew about Stella, obviously, but no one would have thought that this child would think of him as her father. A lot of people didn’t like thinking about Harry being a father.

“What are you doing out here baby?” He said into her ear, making sure he could hear her over the loud noise of the audience. Most of them loved getting glimpses into his life, so the crowd was excited to see Stella out on stage and many thought it was adorable that she already thought of him as her dad.

“Missed you.” She said into his neck. The microphone had somehow picked up their little exchange and the whole crowd sighed a collective “awe” when she said that. She was perched on his hip with her little arms wrapped around his neck, her favorite place if she had to choose one. She was pretty small for a 4-year-old, most people usually thought she was younger.

Harry chuckled and saw Y/n standing there with a smile on her face. Mitch was giggling at the exchange and kept glancing back at Sarah with a knowing look of “That’s going to be us soon,” written on his face.

“I missed you too lovebug, but I’m in the middle of a show! I gotta send you back to mumma.” He said. Stella didn’t like that though, because as soon as the words left his lips she was clinging to him like he was her life force and the tears began streaming down her face. She didn’t like having to share her daddy. She just wanted to be held by him right now, and she’d be damned if she got anything but her way.

This amused everyone, the child's insistence to be in her father's arms, so he sighed and bent to her will because how could he say no to his baby girl?

So he walked over to her mom and got her headphones, slipping them on her, and walked back to his microphone with her on his hip, ready to start the next song.

“Harry and Stella” was trending on twitter the very next morning. No one could get enough of the father-daughter duo.

---

Y/n hadn’t been this nervous since she was about to give birth to Stella. She stood with her baby in her arms as Harry opened the door to his childhood home, announcing to his mom and sister that they were there. She had to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans more than once.

Anne rushed out from wherever she had been, greeting the three of them. Stella had met Anne via FaceTime many times so it was not news to her (or Gemma) that Harry had stepped into the role of Stella’s father. She will admit she was surprised at first but then she was reminded that Harry had been in their lives for almost a year before Stella had asked the question. It wasn’t something that was rushed into.

Anne was very excited to be meeting her grandbaby and was very excited to meet the girl that had made her a grandmother.

Stella got shy, not being used to seeing “Nana” in person. Gemma had emerged from her spot in the kitchen as well, greeting everyone.

“Hello, my loves! How was the trip?” Anne said, kissing both of them on the cheek, her hand gently caressing the child's cheek in an attempt to get her out of her shell. Once she realized that this was her Nana that was standing before her, Stella reached out for Anne, silently asking to be held by her. Anne jumped at the chance, sweeping the baby into her arms and giving her a big hug, kissing her on the forehead multiple times, not being able to quell her affection for her first grandchild.

“It was good mum, Stell slept the whole way and traffic was pretty light,” Harry said, slipping his hand into his girlfriend’s, brushing his thumb back and forth trying to help calm her anxieties. For whatever reason, Y/n was worried that Gemma and Anne wouldn’t like her because she had come into their son/brother's life with a child, but it was clear that the two ladies loved the idea of Harry being Stella’s father.

“Oh, that's lovely!” She smiled, cuddling Stella impossibly closer to her. Y/n felt most of her worries melt away seeing the woman with her baby.

She felt silly for thinking Anne would be anything but happy.

---

Anne would not put Stella down for anything. The two were attached at the hip every waking second. Y/n was actually starting to miss her baby, but she appreciated getting to spend time with Harry without having to keep an eye on their little one. Gemma was absolutely smitten with Stella as well. She was very excited to be “Auntie Gem” as Stella had quickly adapted to calling her. Stella was very happy as well. She had never been around so much family in her whole life. She’d been so used to just her and her mom, and then just them and Harry, but now she had two whole grandma’s all to herself and an auntie she gets to call her own, something she never knew she was missing, that Y/n never thought her baby would get to have.

Harry was so happy to see his baby with Anne and Gemma. They had been bumped to spot number 3 and 4 on his favorite girl list, with Stella and Y/n taking spots 1 and 2. They didn’t mind one bit.

“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Stella jumped up onto his lap as he and Y/n sat on the couch, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Y/n smiled at the girl, tightening her grip around Harry’s shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

“Of course we can lovebug! Go get Nana and auntie Gem and we’ll all pick one out together!” He replied, petting her wild baby hairs out of her eyes just like he always did.

“Auntie Gemma said to ask you if we could watch…” She paused for a second, her little finger tapping on her chin like she couldn’t remember what she was gonna say. Suddenly, she was up and running back to the hallway she had just come from. Y/n and Harry heard little whispers before she came running back out and plopped back onto Harry’s lap, on ‘oof’ erupting from him.

“This Is Us!” She finally said. Harry’s face dropped as he looked behind them to see Gemma standing there, trying to hold back her laughter. Y/n just started cackling and Stella was giggling even though she had no idea what was going on.

“Daddy’s in that movie baby,” Y/n finally calmed down enough to say to her daughter. The little one’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped underneath her chin. This was what she did when she wanted her daddy to say yes to her because she knew he couldn’t resist how adorable she was.

“Please please please!!!!!!” She whined, leaning in to place her forehead against Harry’s. She knew exactly how to get him. He caved every single time.

“Yeah, fine. We can watch it!” He finally said and all three girls cheered. Anne came in at the noise wondering what was going on.

“What’s all this?” She asked and Stella ran up to her, pulling on her

“We watching Daddy’s movie Nana!” She said, jumping up and down with a glowing beam on her face.

“Oh, are we now? Which one?” Anne asked and Stella paused.

“Daddy, how many movies awe you in?” She came back and crawled into his lap. She still had trouble saying her r’s. Her and Harry were working on it.

“Two, lovebug. But one of them you can’t watch until you’re older. It’s too scary f’you.” He said, cuddling his baby into his chest. She put on a little pout hearing that. She didn’t like when her daddy told her no, but this was something he wasn’t gonna budge on.

“Ok,” She sighed. All the adults thought this was adorable.

So they all settled in and watched the movie. Harry had a permanent blush on his face and Stella would jump up and down every time he was on the screen.

“Nana look!! That’s you!!” Anne laughed and nodded to her granddaughter.

“Yes, it is baby!”

“Mommy, why aren’t you in this movie?” She asked and everyone giggled.

“Me and Daddy didn’t know each other very well back then, baby.” Y/n laughed. Stella didn’t really understand but she didn’t say anything else.

The last few days had worn her out and that became very obvious when Harry looked down and saw his baby asleep on his chest, her first finger stuck in her mouth just like it always was when she fell asleep.

“Love, I’m gonna go lay her down, and then I’ll be right back,” Harry whispered, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms and slowly standing up. Y/n nodded, kissing his cheek before he left.

“He’s so good with her!” Gemma cooed, her face lighting up seeing her brother with his kid. A sight she was still kind of getting used to seeing.

“He really is…” Y/n smiled, “It was pretty instant too. Anytime he’d come over and she was still awake, he’d insist on putting her to bed, reading to her, singing to her, he’d bring her toys. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since he first laid eyes on her.”

“That’s so precious,” Anne spoke up, coming to sit next to her, wrapping Y/n in her warm embrace.

“I can’t wait until you two get married!” Y/n laughed at Gemma’s confession, snuggling into Anne.

“All he has to do is ask, I’m ready to say yes!” What none of the girls knew was that Harry was standing right outside the living room, hearing everything that was being said. His mind raced back to his suitcase where a velvet box sat tucked away between all of his clothes.

He was hesitant to bring the idea up because it had only been a year, but the saying when you know, you know he thought.

He came back into the living room, acting none the wiser, sitting on the other side of the girl he was going to marry (she just didn’t know it yet), and cuddled into her just as she had cuddled into his mom.

“Daddy,” A small voice broke through the now quiet hum of the tv.

“Lovebug, what are you doing back up?” He asked, lifting the sleepy little thing into his lap.

“Scawwy dweam, daddy.” She said and he pouted, pulling her closer into his chest and snuggling her back to sleep.

Harry was exactly where he belonged in life. With his baby girl in his arms, and his Love by his side.

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

Grunge-Metal Geralt 3

its finally time 😂 after months of staring at an empty google doc i finally had a useful idea - also y’all, go listen to ‘Brighter Side of Grey’ by Five Finger Death Punch bc that’s the song i based this on and its fire and i love it also all of ffdp is one whole witchery mood

Warnging: vague discussion of a car crash where Geralt was severely injured, big emotionaly vulnerability, swearing?, listen to the song then you’ll get the vibes i promise

__________________

“Give them a break, guys,” Eskel sighed as he wrote down his coffee order, “They had a close call. It’s not like they’re always this…”

“Gross. Skel. The word you’re looking for is gross.” Lambert snatched the paper out of his brother’s hand and stalked out of the room with Aiden in tow.

Jaskier scrunched his nose and called from where he was tucked under Geralt’s chin, “Did we drive them away? I can get up if it’s too much.” Even as he spoke, neither he nor Geralt so much as twitched to make good on the offer.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Eskel shrugged.

Lambert and Aiden, mainly Lambert, were getting fed up with Geralt and Jaskier cuddling and cooing and doing general new couple bullshit. Especially since they’d been together three years now. They were recording a collaboration song, meaning everyone had to be there, but it seemed the two vocalists only really cared about each other. Jaskier sat on Geralt’s lap, played with his hair, stole kisses whenever he could… at one point Lambert caught Geralt tracing Jaskier’s lips and forced a coughing fit to get his attention. He probably thought it was subtle, even if no one else did. So to take a break and get some of what he called ‘patience juice’ (coffee), Lambert ran to their favorite coffee shop while Eskel laid down his bass line.

It’s not that they were intentionally this annoying, not all the time at least. After the car crash, especially once Geralt started doing well in his physical therapy, the couple just couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Not to say that was the only relationship Geralt was suddenly extra involved in, it was just the most noticeable.

Finally, after tea and coffee was distributed to everyone it was time for Geralt and Jaskier to, well, do their jobs. Jaskier was fidgeting and humming little scales, doing anything to calm the sudden nerves he felt bubbling up in his stomach.

“You alright?” Geralt purred, nudging him with his elbow as they stood side by side at their respective microphones. When Jaskier only shrugged he continued, “What's wrong?”

“I’m just not used to so many people being here while I…” Jaskier motioned to the mic before glancing around him and taking a deep breath, “it’s a vulnerable song…”

Geralt’s worry lines in his forehead melted as he pulled Jaskier into his arms, “I can kick them out if you want?” he whispered.

Shaking his head and inhaling Geralt’s scent deeply, something Jaskier had learned not to take for granted, he steeled his nerves, “I’ll be fine. Maybe a little weepy, but fine.”

As they were about to start, listening to the instrumental track and humming their parts of the song, Lambert brought Jaskier a bottle of water and set it on his music stand. He gave him a quick side hug and kissed his hair, offering a small “sorry” for all his teasing. Jaskier just giggled in response, the kind that only bubbles over from too much anticipation. He missed it, but Geralt mouthed a small ‘thank you’ to Lambert as he sat back down on the other side of the glass.

Jaskier hooked his pinky around Geralt’s as the guitar intro started, needing that little bit of contact for the first line. When they’d written it it felt perfect. The audience knew exactly what kind of song they were about to hear and Geralt really hadn’t known if he would pull through. It took Jaskier right back to the dimly lit hospital room where he scrawled and scratched out lyrics to keep Geralt distracted from his upcoming surgery. The fear, the desperation, the little pockets of joy when they forgot where they were, the overwhelming love that Jaskier thought he’d never be able to fully give to Geralt all crept back up his throat as he took a breath for that stupid fucking first line.

His voice cracked partway through as he sang, making him fully grip Geralt’s hand, “I’m writing this in case I’m gone tomorrow,” By some miracle, he found his support for the next line, “I’m writing this in case I’ve moved along,”

For a moment he thought he’d gotten over the worst of it. A couple lines passed in relative ease, emotional but not so much it interfered with his craft. If he focused on looking at his microphone and keeping his breath supported he might make it through. Then Geralt joined him for the chorus.

“When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away. When the sun burns out, I’ll be waiting on the brighter side of grey.”

His harmony faltered and he involuntarily heaved a broken gasp in the middle of a line, desperately trying to focus on the mic that was now warped by the tears in his eyes.

Geralt broke off after the first word of his verse, turning to Jaskier and pulling him in again, “You alright, love?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry,” Jaskier groaned in embarrassment as he clung to Geralt’s frame, “I’m being a baby. I wasn’t even the one hurt.”

“No you’re not,” Geralt argued, running his knuckles over Jaskier’s cheeks to wipe away his tears, “Here,” he moved their mics and stands close enough that they were shoulder to shoulder and their fingers could comfortably lace together.

Jaskier squeezed his hand gently and gave him a brave smile, “From the top?”

“From the top.”

This time Jaskier tried watching Geralt as they sang. He made it through the first chorus and got to just watch as Geralt sang his verse. The pang of emotion in his chest was still ever present, but it was manageable. Until he noticed Geralt having trouble.

On “All you get to keep is what you’ve shared,” Geralt squeezed his eyes closed and his grip on Jaskier’s hand tightened. The folk singer prepared, relaxed, readied himself to take a breath in. He was expecting that one to hurt after how much Geralt insisted upon it. How he threatened to get out of that hospital bed and scribble the line himself if Jaskier didn’t put it in. He wasn’t expecting the last line of the stanza to hurt. It had been comforting to the both of them at the time.

Geralt’s lip quivered and his voice was almost pinched as he sang out, “Remember no one ever really dies.”

Even being the one to write the melody, Jaskier missed the first three notes of the chorus, “Fuck. Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that was on me,” Geralt sniffed and chuckled, “I knew you’d lose it if I did.”

“How do you do this?!” Jaskier exclaimed, chugging half the water bottle to keep the breakdown at bay.

Aiden’s voice came over their headphones, “Half our songs are his trauma and another quarter are group trauma. He’s got practice sweetheart.”

They tried a couple more times, even got through the whole song once with only minimal tears and one tasteful cracked note. But it was still a struggle for Jaskier to keep it together, and the more they sang, the more Geralt lost his iron grip on his composure.

“Look at me,” Jaskier instructed, moving Geralt to face him and adjusting their mics so they could sing to each other, “Just like when we wrote it. Except a little less pain.”

The joke earned a snort out of Geralt, exactly what Jaskier was aiming for, “This is supposed to be easier?”

“We can try?”

Jaskier did wonderfully for his verse, singing to Geralt was familiar and safe, even if the subject matter was terrifying. The chorus went well, but as soon as Geralt started to sing, Jaskier couldn’t exhale and it was all he could do not to sniff and ruin the take.

“If you’re hearing this I know you’re probly scared,” had tears falling down his cheeks again and Geralt’s voice cracked as his eyes welled up, “Nope,” he choked, “that’s worse. Much worse.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier gave a watery giggle as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s middle, “Why did we decide to do this again?”

Geralt pressed a kiss to Jaskier’s hair, sniffling and holding him tight, “I think we’re sadists.”

“Back to back,” Eskel’s voice crackled in their ears, “Try it back to back.”

Leaning back to watch Jaskier’s reaction, Geralt hummed, “Do you want to? Or do you need a break?”

“Fuck it,” Jaskier shrugged, spinning Geralt around and following suit as he moved his equipment.

As they stood waiting for the tech to start the audio, Jaskier felt like he could really inhale for the first time all day. Geralt was there, he could feel his ribs expand against his back and his fingers tapping like a metronome on Jaskier’s palms. This is what they were missing when they wrote the damn song. The comfort of knowing someone is always at your back, that they’ll be there when it’s hard and even when you’re separated.

A warmth spread through Jaskier as the intro started and he felt ready. He still pressed back into Geralt on the harder lines, reminding himself he was still there, but they both made it through two full takes.

On the final one, as the recording of the softly picked guitar faded out, Jaskier couldn’t help but repeat two more lines, “When the lights go down, Know that I am never far away.”

His voice hung in the air for a beat, the sense of finality reverberating through the studio and bringing everything else to a stand still.

Geralt was the first to breathe, “Shit, we made it.”

“We fuckin made it,” Jaskier huffed, emotionally drained but immensely satisfied as he turned to hug Geralt from behind and press his cheek to his spine, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Let’s get a snack?”

“Yeah.”

When the sound tech played the potential mix for the first time, he tacked on an echoing, distant sounding recording of their conversation. Everyone looked at each other and nodded, goosebumps on their arms and that feral sparkle in their eyes that every artist gets when they’ve stumbled on something really exciting. They re-recorded some guitar and drums, but they kept the vocals exactly the same.

For the album art they wrote “I love you” on the tattered hospital stationary that had the lyrics and chords written on it and took a picture. Jaskier had the original framed and hung in their house as a little reminder.

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starlightswitch · 2 years

Text

Not As Good

@flashfictionfridayofficial This one happened to me, smaller scale (and not a song).

The instant Violet heard about the contest, she knew she was entering. She didn’t care so much about the chance to meet Marshall Pierce, latest reality singing show winner, and work on the song with him. It was the fact that the workshop with him would be recorded and aired as a TV special. It was that if her song was good enough, this could be her big break.

She spent nearly the whole month working on her song.

It had to be unique. A regular love song or breakup song or summer song wouldn’t catch the judges’ attention. She decided on an unrequited love song with a little bit of an edge, since she couldn’t think of any other songs that fit that description.

When she was almost happy with it, minus one rhyme that was a little too obvious, she played it for a couple of her friends. Mark said it was perfect. Ella said she wasn’t sure why it sounded so angry, it made her wonder if the narrator really deserved to get the guy, so Violet went over the lyrics and changed one, and practiced singing it with a little bit more of a smile in her voice.

The night before it was due, she thought of a way to fix that obvious rhyme. In the morning she rerecorded the song, pulled up the contest webpage, and submitted it.

It was a long couple weeks of waiting, and then she heard back. The first-round judges had passed her song forward to the final panel, which included Marshall Pierce himself.

The waiting continued.

The email came in while she was at work. She saw it on her break. She decided to wait and read it when she got home.

It had Marshall Pierce’s name on it. It was written in a friendly voice, Hey Violet! as if they’d met before, and when she skimmed down over the first paragraph it was so complimentary about the creativeness of the song and the power in her voice that she was sure the news was good news.

And then there was the second paragraph.

In fact the song is so perfect, and the voice is so strongly yours, that I don’t think working with me would do much for it. It should stay completely yours.

Violet clenched her teeth to keep from screaming. The song was too good. It needed to be less good. The songwriter that was going to get all the promotion was going to be someone who wrote a song that wasn’t as good.

She did a quick internet search to see if the contest results were mentioned anywhere, wondering if they’d at least promoted her song that way. The network did have a page that listed the finalists, with the bio they’d submitted and the picture they’d submitted and a description of the song– Pierce praised the fierce yearning in the lyrics which was perfectly evoked by the singer’s voice. But there was no way for anyone to hear the song.

There was a link to listen to the winning song. Violet argued with herself for a moment, tilting her head back and forth, and then clicked it.

There were some good lines. There were also some that were a little clunky. She didn’t like the key change for the chorus, or maybe just the key the chorus changed to. The bridge was the same as the second half of the first verse, which felt like the writer hadn’t been able to think of anything better.

She sighed in the back of her throat, wishing fiercely that her song had been that far from perfect.

#my writing #by the way it's an unrequited love song with an edge #because I'd like some of those for my Close for Comfort playlist #it seems like there are a lot of unrequited love songs #but most are actually I-want-you-back songs #or on-and-off-relationship-with-a-jerk songs

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

The Studio - Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 9.7k words

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

I told you I’d be back really soon ;) Tonight there’s a lot on schedule! I’ve been working on this piece for two weeks, since it carries a lot for both Namjoon and Vixen, emotionally speaking. It means a lot for me too, since to me it was truly a challenge in terms of the different levels of knowledge that Joon, y/n and the narrator hold. I think I’ve grown a lot in terms of writing even from Tiktok Towel Trick, which I wrote last May, but I’m really proud of myself comparing to what I used to produce a couple years ago.

Now, let me introduce this fic. The piece takes place two or three months after the two have started sleeping together (ideally late January or February). In this piece Vixen visits Joon at the studio after a bad fight and Joon’s self-imposed isolation. The two feel like they’ve come to a dead-end as they wait for the other person to cut ties. Namjoon is suffocated by his job, his tendency to lash out at his closest ones when he’s stressed and his previous traumas; Vixen is locked in her head, shut out by Namjoon and repeatedly accused of infidelity, as a sign of Namjoon’s lack of trust. Will the two manage to work things out?

Description and trigger warnings: The piece was written referring to Namjoon’s Rkive as in his vlive log. There is ANGST. Loads. There is some crying and it is not Vixen’s. Longing and miscommunication. In terms of filth: so much dirty talking the walls exude holy water by now. Unprotected sex (STAY SAFE GUYS!!!!!!!!), DDLG/daddy kink, Masturbation paired up with Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Fetishism (Shoes, tights and lingerie), Oral (female receiving), Cumplay (eating), Marking, Spanking, Angsty doggy fucking followed by a very soft ride on the sofa. That should be all. Fluff alarm: Namjoon doesn’t want to lose his little fox and Vixen just wants to cuddle her big teddy bear Joon.

Wordcount: 9.7k

Here is my masterlist

Enjoy!!!

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Standing in the main corridor of the studios felt very strange. You looked around, uncomfortable, while the receptionist at your side stared at you, waiting. "Don't worry, he's busy all the time. We can wait, no big deal." The fact that you'd been greeted by Namjoon's driver at the entry desk had helped you get to the studios unannounced. "That boy always gets caught up on something. He shouldn't make you wait." He tutted, looking at you with a kind smile.

"____? What are you doing here?" Taehyung smiled at you brightly, close behind him Hoseok and Yoongi approached with heavy-looking bags on them.

"Oh, hi. I sort of stopped by for Namjoon." You bit your lip, smiling embarrassedly.

"He's still in his room. I can show you the way." Taehyung said, grinning.

Yoongi seemed to be observing him closely while Hoseok looked absolutely oblivious.

"No, I only have to give him this." You showed them two small bags, one containing food and the other a few things he had left at your place.

You tried not to let your heartbreak show.

"Maybe you could bring them to him, I don't want to distract him."

You smiled but you felt the tears welling up.

Yoongi's glance moved to you. It felt scorching. "I think you should bring those to him. I think he'd like to see you." His serious tone made you realise that maybe he did know what was happening. Maybe he did know better.

"I think he'd rather not see me right now." Your lips tightened in a thin line.

Both the guys turned to Yoongi. "Go, I'll see you tomorrow."

They both patted him on the shoulder and waved at you, Taehyung hugging you close. "It'll be alright. I'll see you."

Taehyung smiled at you, his cute cheeks popping upwards. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you had just granted him an exclusive piece by one of his favourite photographers. Maybe he was just friendly, maybe he simply liked you because he deemed you a decent human being.

Right at his heels, Hoseok gave you a cute wave, saying bye-bye in a cartoonish voice.

Beside you, Yoongi shook his head, still sporting a fond smile. "Uhm, I never know whether I should introduce myself. Anyway, we've never met before, so– I'm Yoongi. " He said with a tiny smile, his cheeks jumping upwards.

You introduced yourself with a small bow.

"You are just like he described you. He talks about you a lot." He commented. You blushed, almost feeling like dissolving into thin air. You never thought you would meet his friends like this.

Yoongi looked at your face. "You're exactly his type — in the best way possible." He blushed. "Let's go." He said, leading you. "I actually want to say a few things." He threw his bag on the floor, getting comfortable on the sofa in the common room. "How are you doing?"

You stared at your feet. "Decent enough."

"I'll be honest, ____. He hasn't been doing good. Not even decent, in my opinion." Yoongi announced, as if trying to prepare you for what you were going to see. "I feel like telling you a couple things about him. He can be hot-headed, and an absolute pain in the ass. He is a perfectionist, and a terrifically clumsy one at that." Yoongi huffed out. "He holds himself to extremely high standards and punishes himself whenever he feels like he's not delivering. And he has the horrible tendency to lash out when he's stressed. He just takes it all out on those who are closest to him." Yoongi patted the spot at his side, inviting you to sit. "I'll be inappropriate, maybe, but I have to say it. You don't have to stay at his side."

The sentence was like a slap to your face. It had never come to your mind to part ways with him.

"You don't have to put yourself through his tempers and tantrums. You need to be ready to handle those emotionally. If you aren't, I don't think you'll be able to go for the long run." Yoongi looked at you in the eye. "Sorry if I overstepped, usually people come to me to talk, I'm not used to giving unsolicited advice." He blushed and laced his fingers together, laying them on his thighs.

"I don't want to let go of him, Yoongi." You confessed.

"Then you should go bring this stuff to him in person. And remember, you don't have to be his therapist. If you want, you can be his partner, walk by his side, but it's not your duty to carry him." The man was incredibly smart and thoughtful. And sensitive. The more you got to know him, the more you understood Namjoon's adoration for him.

"Thank you so much." You bowed your head briefly, placing your palm on top of his hands.

He moved one on top of yours, patting gently. "Let's go find your grumpy bear, uh?"

With a groaned "aigoo" He pushed himself up, standing on his feet like an old man before bending to catch the strap of his bag. "This way."

He led you through the winding corridors until you recognised the door to Namjoon's studio. "Go on. Knock politely and be smart. Discuss. Negotiate. Compromise. And be kind to each other." He gave you the official salute and left.

You found yourself staring at the door, wondering if he'd roar at you for interrupting him.

The room sounded quiet.

You counted to three. Knocked.

"Come in." Said his voice with a weak rumble. He was probably distracted.

His studio was warm and welcoming, if a bit clustered. The lights were low and yellowy, coming from his desk and contrasting with the white gleam of his computer screen, still you could see everything perfectly in the slight penumbra, your eyes perusing your surroundings. It was easy to see why his apartment felt like a hotel room: he barely spent time there while this place really felt like home. It felt like stepping into his soul. Small sculptures and toys and collectibles were neatly lined in his bookcase together with some books. Then the baby shoes. Art catalogues. Candles. Art. A drape too big for the wall, but still there, a painting, probably from Yoongi, since you vaguely recognised his style. On the back wall, you noticed two drapes embroidered in traditional patterns. The floor was covered in thick cream carpets with geometric prints that reminded you of tribal symbols. And sweet lord, that was his wooden, swoon-worthy, customised low table, matching with the piece by the door holding one of his bonsai. A comfy couch with a fluffy, warm blanket, and embroidered pillows. You were mesmerised. You didn't have time to take it all in, your glance running from the upright piano to the microphone standing beside his chair. He didn't turn around, he kept staring at the screen, typing every now and then. His beautiful desk was crowded with stationery, electronic devices, a keyboard and all kinds of knicknacks.

"What is– oh. Hi." His expression was ice-cold.

"Hi. I was passing by, I wanted to bring you some stuff you'd left at mine."

His heart froze. This is the end then.

He'd been avoiding it for almost two weeks, hiding from you in his studio, even though the only things he could write were heartbreaking blue rhymes that had Jimin and Jeongguk exchanging pitying glances.

The beginning of this tragedy was almost comedic in its stupid futility. It was just him incapable of perfecting a pre-chorus. A dumb verse or something. He had called you, talked it out but apparently all he did was just turn down your ideas and suggestions, snapping at you until you exhaustedly told him that you were tired and needed some sleep. He took that as you umpteenth sign that you didn't care about him — which you both knew was entirely wrong — and caused a huge fight which ended on you telling him to go fuck himself, at which he unceremoniously replied that he was okay with that since you were clearly already fucking someone else.

You didn't bother correcting him, since no matter how many times you told him, he always seemed to get back at you being unfaithful and uncaring. You were done justifying yourself, apologising for things you had never done.

"Uhm. I also brought you some food. I didn't know if you had already eaten."

He looked at you like you had finally lit a candle in a dark and cold room.

Your heart broke some more. You asked yourself if there was any more breaking to do, at this point.

You figured there was the moment you heard his hoarse voice speak. "Let's eat together."

You didn't have the guts to deny him.

You laid the bags on the small table and took off your coat. He stood on his feet immediately, crossing the room in a few broad steps and hugging you to his chest.

Let it hurt. You told yourself. It heals faster like that.

His palms settled at your waist and his eyes closed. He breathed you in. He had never felt something really end. His exes were like a song slowly slipping into a diminuendo until they became silence. His interest burned out, his curiosity simply died down and the feelings never seemed to grow fully. They felt like a balloon which was never supposed to be blown that big. This thing with you was like a song being stopped mid-chorus, silence biting in where it wasn't supposed to be. Is this what the end feels like? He asked himself as he held you tighter, one of his hands climbing up and burrowing into your hair. He pressed your face into his chest, where his heartbeat was so strong and so loud that you asked yourself if you could somehow amplify it, if your body could register it and replay it once you were alone in your bed, mourning over this. "You feel taller." He said, noticing how your forehead reached his lips instead of slotting under his jaw.

"I still have my heels on." You replied.

"Wanna take 'em off?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No, if that's not a problem.

He breathed out heavily. He interpreted your refusal as a sign that first, you were keeping your tough-woman shield up — which he couldn't blame you — and second, you weren't intending to stay long.

You tried to part yourself from him. "One more second, little Vixen. Just a second." He whispered.

You allowed him.

"Come on, dinner is getting cold." You said softly.

He didn't let you go, he simply loosened his grip and dragged you to the sofa. He was willing to keep you as close as he could until you ripped the bandaid off, unraveling this small spell that had turned his life into a perfect, dreamlike snowball.

Sitting on the sofa, he made you sit beside him, your side sticking to his from shoulder to hip to knee to ankle.

It was all too much but you didn't have the strength to part from him. He bent down and opened the small boxes.

It was fried chicken.

Like the first time at his place, at two am, naked in his bed after he had owned you in every way that mattered.

He loved fried chicken. And now it would always mean you to him.

No chimaek after fucking with anyone else. He wanted to keep it for you, in case one day you decided to come back, and he would say he had never done that with anyone else, that he had been waiting for you. Because some part of him told him that you would come back.

Both your brains were going on the same path, already mourning someone who was right there in that moment, but already felt so far away. The room was quiet but both your minds were screaming, thinking so loud that the silence was welcome.

"I got you fried chicken. I know you love it."

I love you, his brain replied. But his mouth stayed silent. It was too late anyway.

"Thank you." He said brusquely. He reprimanded himself for sounding so harsh.

"It's okay." You said quietly, using the lid to grab a couple pieces out of the ten or so. You didn't feel like eating and he always ate two thirds of the box anyway.

He exchanged one of your wings for a leg. "You prefer the leg." He said with a shy smile, trying to make up for the coldness he had shown previously.

You had been sleeping with Namjoon for three months now, spending all your spare time together at his place, sometimes moving in for the weekend, the both of you leaving your job early so you could spend Friday afternoon together and go on small dates. He usually had his schedule on Saturdays and Sundays too, so it wasn't uncommon for you to spend several hours alone at his place. You had made small improvements, making his house feel more like a home with small handmade crafts. And when he came back, you would usually try to keep it chill but eventually you ended up in bed, or on the sofa, or the kitchen counter. Or the carpet on the corridor leading to his bedroom. Or the shower. Let's just say that you would be all over each other.

You thought how different it would be now, and how difficult it would be to get him out of your system.

"How is it going." You asked quietly after you swallowed your first bite.

"Tough. I'm polishing some stuff, but this is the part where I doubt everything and want to rewrite all of it." He explained, his fingers gripping the chicken with a precision and finesse that reminded you of his delicate, careful side.

"You'll get through it. You're a pro by now. And I'm sure you have excellent taste. You know what you want and you'll find your way to it." You praised him, rubbing your shoulder against him since your fingers were dirty.

He leaned his head on your shoulder, shrinking down to reach you. "Thank you."

The more time passed, the more you realised he still hadn't said sorry for what he had implied during that phone call.

"That's okay."

"How have you been doing?" He asked, trying not to let his worry show. It still showed, though.

You decided on being honest. "I've been missing you."

He paused eating. "I've been missing you too." He put down the chicken, using the ball of his wrists to press against his temples. "I'm sorry about what I said that day. I know my past relationships and nerves are not valid excuses for how I treated you, but I got swallowed in those and I dragged you in."

You looked at the leg and finished munching on it, stripping the bone of the last few strings of meat. You put down the naked bone, licking your fingers. "You never talked about your most recent ex." You commented.

He picked up his head. "To put it simply, I was her side piece." He said, plainly. "She was getting married to someone else. And she messed around with me." He looked at his feet. "At the beginning I didn't know. It lasted around eight months, as she was waiting for her fiancé to finish his military service. After I discovered it, we kept going for a couple weeks, but I found the whole thing so upsetting and disgusting that we parted ways. Her fiance forgave her and they got married a while ago, a few weeks before I met you." He snickered sarcastically. "I even sent them flowers."

You blinked distractedly. "Joon, I'm so sorry, baby." You brushed your forehead against his arm.

"It's cool. I mean, it's not since I'm still traumatised by it. I've been talking about it with my analyst, but it's been a while since I last went, almost three weeks, because this project had been swallowing me whole — after chewing me a little, clearly." He had his exhausted laugh on.

You felt like you needed to talk about the whole story about that girl, but right now he didn't seem in the right mindset to do that. For now, knowing that he knew he had a bias and he was tackling the issue with a therapist was enough.

"Have you been sleeping, babe?" All the breaking up was momentarily suspended. There was something to save here. You had a lot you still wanted to save from this.

He seemed relieved when you called him that. Don't get your hopes up. He shook his head. "A couple hours at a time. Small naps when I'm tired."

"Okay, so once you're done eating, we're gonna take a good, long nap."

He didn't want to sleep though. He wanted to hold you close, kiss you, make sure that he did everything he could to make you stay. The meal continued quietly, and as soon as you were fed he asked you about your job, how it was going, if you had any new clients or if you had met any new artists. You replied to each question fully, telling him about curious accidents and little inconveniences.

And he listened. He had missed your voice and it felt good to listen to someone who wasn't himself or the boys' voices over speakers and headphones.

As you were both done with dinner, he guided you to the bathroom, standing behind you as you washed your hands. He took some soap, foaming it up between his hands before he caught your left palm within his, pressing and rubbing them together to clean you up. And then he laced his fingers with yours, lathering your digits in bubbles and making sure that the sticky sauce from the chicken disappeared completely. He moved to the other hand as you laid your head against his chest at his collarbone, tipping it back so you could stare at him. You were sure you had never adored someone this much. He turned slightly to look at you, smiling softly. He bent down and pressed his lips to yours gently. No man, no person in the world had ever touched you or kissed you like he has. No one has ever talked to you like him, showed you their world like he has. He reluctantly parted from your lips.

He led your joined hands to close the tap, moving to the hand dryer. It felt all too intimate.

"Joon."

"Let's get back to my studio, yeah?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded.

He laced his hand with yours.

Once you reached the studio, he quietly dragged you to the sofa, pulling at your arm so that you fell with your ass on his lap. He hugged you again. "I am so sorry about what I said. You have told me countless times that I'm the only one."

"You hurt me, Namjoon." You said quietly.

It felt like a slap, his full name.

"Let me make it right." He kissed your cheek and your eyes fell shut. "I want you."

And you wanted him too. You thought yourself crazy for wanting a man so complicated, someone who had disrespected you, who had repeatedly and blatantly demonstrated his lack of trust towards you. Still, when you needed reassurance, affection and devotion, your bodies always came into play, talking with a language so simple and obvious to each other that you simply nodded, whispering "I want you too."

With his index finger he turned your head, kissing you square on the lips and forcing you to part them, his tongue sweeping in your mouth, making your head spin with the intimacy and intensity of it all.

Let him take you, if that would reassure him that you only thought about him, you wanted only him and no one else.

His free hand curled around your thigh, climbing up under the tight knee-length dress you were wearing. The woolen grey number was the first thing to come off as he tugged it over your head and off his way. "You're so gorgeous," He murmured painfully, looking at you and taking in every small detail. "A work of art, little Vixen." He kissed your shoulder.

You smiled shyly, trying to straddle his waist. He toyed with the lace covering your breasts and nipples, teasing them with his fingers until they pressed hard against the fabric. Next he fooled around with the waistband of your tights, making you stand between his legs as he dragged the nylon down your thighs and calves. He stared at your feet, where the garment bunched up, noticing your black stilettos. "Off." He whispered, tapping his foot against yours. Once you took off the shoes, he bent down to help your feet out of your tights. He bit your leg harshly, leaving a mark behind. "Heels on again, Vixen."

Smiling darkly, you slipped them back on, shivering a little, but so happy to wear your favourite black lace set and stilettos for him.

"Walk for me?" He asked, making you put on a little show.

And God, did you enjoy it. His jaw went slack at the Brazilian cut of your panties, exposing to his hungry eyes the perfect curve of your ass, the way it swelled fully before meeting with the back of your thigh.

That was his favourite place to bite. And spank.

You did a small catwalk with your back to him, reaching his chair, which you turned around from his desk to the sofa. Facing the chair, you bent forward, your thumbs catching the fabric of your panties at your sides and pushing them down as you bent forward, offering him the whole panorama.

He groaned. "I'm gonna get an heart attack, baby."

You smiled at him viciously over your shoulder, letting your lower piece of underwear fall to the floor. Next you dragged your full palm up the curve of your ass, smacking it playfully as your fingers made their way to the clasp of your bra.

"You're gonna kill me, Vixen." He cried out.

Bra undone, you let both strings fall down your shoulders, removing one side first and letting the garment dangle from the other side, making your arm fall and drop the delicate lace ordeal.

Your smile disappeared in an innocent pout when you turned around, completely naked except for your shoes.

"I'm gonna sit here." You announced, waiting for his approval.

He nodded eagerly. "Make yourself comfy, Vixen."

You sat down, crossing your legs and propping your elbows on your knees. Shyness was not a word in your vocabulary in that moment. Your only intention was that of distracting him from whatever it was that was mauling his brain.

"Are you going to make me wait, Joon." You teased demandingly.

He stared at you, meeting your glance. "Stay there and sit still." He ordered before grabbing the hem of his sweater and pushing it upwards, taking off both sweater and undershirt in the process. His upper body appeared, a bit skinnier than two weeks ago but maybe it was just the distance and the slouching position. His sweatpants were taut around his lap and you bit your lip as your eyes traced the outline of his length. He laid his palm there, stroking himself over the cotton. "Missed you so much, baby." He groaned and huffed. His eyes closed, his hand grew tense, stronger and heavier. Licking your lips, you kept staring at him, squeezing your thighs as he touched himself for you.

He was hot, all the time, but this… This felt like a fever dream. You were soaked. Thank god his chair was leather and it could be cleaned easily.

He moaned your name, his eyes struggling to open enough to look at you. His voice was so deep and needy, mixed with heavy huffs. "Namjoon." You whined.

He opened his eyes fully, his hand coming to a halt. It was like a cold shower. He was reminded why you were doing this, why you had come to this, the sudden distance that had come within the two of you. "What is it, baby?"

You pushed your ass against the chair, looking for friction. "Come here. Touch me." You begged.

It pained him seeing you so needy and whiny and stressed. "Listen to me, baby thing. Listen very carefully." He wanted to reassure you but he couldn't come to you. "I need you to touch yourself, little one. Can you do that for me? I promise I'll touch you after you cum, baby, but I want to see you first." He asked, palming himself again.

You licked your lips. "Can I?" You questioned innocently, placing your palm on your thigh, your fingertips grazing your crotch.

"You can, doll. Do it for me." He growled, pushing his fingers under his waistband, grabbing his hard on at the base and stroking it as you parted your legs, exposing your wetness. You were beautiful, naked on his chair, dragging your middle finger along your dripping slit. Your other hand grabbed your breast.

"You're a vision, Vixen. You're magnificent, pretty thing."

"I want your tongue, daddy." You mewled, your finger dipping inside, emerging covered in glossy wetness.

He groaned, taking his cock out of his pants, moving the waistband to his thighs. “I’m gonna eat you later, pretty doll. I’ve been starving for weeks for that sweet cunt of yours.” His erection immediately sprung up, arching to his belly button, the lower tendon looking so inviting along that thick vein that always had him throwing his head back whenever you traced it with the tip of your front teeth. As your fingers met your clit, eliciting a whine from your throat, he used four fingers to press on the vein, his thumb already playing with the tip. His hands always looked incredible whenever he used them on himself, strong fingers and spidery tendons making the vision sinfully erotic. However, he was lost in you as much as you were lost in him, his lips parted, his breath panting while you opened your legs wider, using two fingers in small upward circles that teased the underside of your clit. You felt a chill run down your spine, your legs trembling and closing a little with an involuntary reflex. You giggled at that, closing your eyes and moving your grip to the armrest of the chair. Your upper body inched forward a little and your hand stopped.

“Too much, babygirl?” He asked and you smiled brightly, nodding.

You’re gonna miss it, the way she smiles when you’re doing it right, his brain reminded him and as a way to shut it up, he stroked himself faster, with more pressure, his spare hand brushing his abdomen and moving upwards, spreading over his pectoral, scratching the skin there before his thumb and forefinger curved around the base of his neck, pressing there.

You observed the motion, unpausing the movement between your thighs and humming as he gave you his desperate stare, the one that meant that he couldn’t take it anymore, that he was on the verge of it and even the smallest addition to the current situation would have him screaming and cumming.

“Joonie, lemme get close. Cum in my mouth, Joon, please.” You whined.

“No, naughty girl. Stay there and cum for daddy.” He groaned. “Come on, baby, I’m waiting for you.” He said, with a harsh and strained command.

Arching your neck, you started moving faster, opening your legs as far as the armrests allowed, but they only allowed an inch more than what you already had. Huffing with disappointment, you closed them and propped the back of your right knee on top of the armrest and repeated the gesture with your left leg, spreading yourself wide, almost hitting a split with your legs bent at the knees.

“God, you’re the dirtiest. You stretching it out for me? You’re so good, showing daddy how wet you are for him.” He teased, using that raspy voice that he knew always drives you insane.

With short, quick breaths you brought yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Daddy, please, keep talking to me.”

His hand slowed down. “Need to hear my voice, babygirl?”

You nodded and he snickered. “Then I’ll talk to you, little one. You know what I’m gonna do after you cum? I’m gonna crawl to you and kneel between those wondrous legs of yours. I’m gonna push your ass to the edge of the seat and feast on you like I’m trying to die eating that pussy. And do you know what you’re gonna do, Vixen?” He provoked.

You shook your head. “What am I going to do, daddy?” You questioned innocently, your words stumbling a few times as your breath got stuck somewhere in your throat.

“Oh, little fox, you’re gonna grab my hair and push that lovely cunt on my lips and tongue, fucking my face so hard and fast, pressing your sexy heels on my naked shoulders. I want to hear you gasp for air because I make you cum so good you forget to breathe, you forget how to speak.”

“Joon, I’m cumming.” You cried out, your legs starting to quiver and your clit getting too sensitive to stand the movement of your fingers, slipping them inside and pushing them in slow circles around your cervix.

His fingers moved back to the tip, the other hand massaging his balls. “Take it, Vixen, that’s it baby. I’m cumming, ____.” He moaned your name, spilling his release on his lower stomach.

You were still staring at each other with your chests heaving, eyes wild, hands stained by your pleasure. It was always the two of you. Always getting caught up in each other, always getting tangled in each other's fantasies with this constant lust pulling you in and never having enough. You wondered when the hunger would stop, when you would grow tired of his insecurity and possessiveness, when he would find out you're too kinky, too needy, too fucked up for a busy man like him to handle.

He cleaned his hand with one of the unused paper towels from dinner, crumbling it and throwing it in the box with the garbage from dinner.

"Joonie." You whispered, waiting.

"Coming, baby fox." He replied, standing up and taking off his sweatpants and boxers, walking straight to you. You closed your legs, a bit cold and embarrassed now that your high was over. Standing right in front of you, he cupped your cheek, making you look up at his face, however, even though your head was tipped back, aimed at his eyes, your glance hung low, staring at the droplets smearing his abdomen. "What are you looking at, spoiled little fox?" He said, with a sardonic smile.

"I wanna lick."

He grinned and scooped some liquid with his digit, bringing it to your lips.

Parting your lips, you licked your lower one first, then you let your tongue dart out and swipe at his finger, carefully sucking it into your mouth before he lowered his eyes, staring into yours and smirking seducingly as he pulled his digit out. You smacked your lips and savoured his taste, your eyelids falling shut as you hummed at his flavour.

His cock, once half soft, was now hardening again, swelling intermittently and slowly rising to his navel. But Namjoon's eyes were focused on your face. "Want more?" He asked once your eyes opened and your gaze focused on his face. With a sex-addled, lazy grin you nodded, opening your mouth.

He grinned right back. "Such a hungry little girl."

Impatient, you grabbed his hips, pulling him towards you and licking his belly clean. He groaned, observing you closely.

I'm going to teach her some patience and some manners, he thought darkly. However, he immediately reminded himself that he would never have the time, your liaison coming to an end.

With this unfortunate thought, he cupped your face. "I'm the one supposed to be eating now, ____. Let me take care of you, darling." He said, before falling to his knees. Immediately he pushed the back of the chair to the table, so that it wouldn't cartwheel out of his grasp.

Once more you asked yourself how many times he had done that before, thinking about how the relationship with the bride-to-be must have been mostly sexual, since you don't usually have much romance and dates with someone who is taken. Even though he didn't know she was taken. Whatever.

In that moment he was there, kneeling before you, placing your heels on his shoulders, cupping your ass and tipping it forward so he could easily and comfortably give you that first, glorious lick from your hole to your clit. "Taste so good." He said, nuzzling his lips side to side as he spoke, mixing the movement to the vibration of his voice. He bit the small tattoo at the top of your thigh, where it met your pelvis, just shy of your hip bone. "Sexy little thing." He kissed it. "Drove me insane since day one." As usual, he sucked at it, causing a dark purple mark to bloom over it. "Fucking perfect."

He laid his tongue flat against your slit drawing the tiniest circles with the whole length of it.

You hand-combed his hair back, holding it so you could look into his dragon eyes. He looked vicious and dangerous and so cunning, so smart in the most atrocious way.

"Namjoon." You moaned, your hips arching closer to his mouth.

He snickered cockily, moving his tongue slowly back into his mouth, allowing only the tip to wander up your crevice and reach the apex of your labia. He delivered a set of ten licks, slow and curling perfectly against your nub. "Are you good, little fox?" He asked.

You nodded and pushed his head back between your legs.

He laughed loudly, fighting against you. "I'm not done talking, brat." He bit your lower belly gently. "I'm gonna pump your clit with my mouth, Vixen. I'll suck it twenty times, then I'll let you rest until I'm ready again. I'll keep going until you cum. Remember that after twenty I'll pause. This could easily turn into edgeplay, baby, so you'd better get very horny very fast. You okay, Vixen?"

He checked on you and you nodded, impatient to simply have him on your clit.

"Be verbal, little girl." He reprimanded.

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl. Let's get started."

He wasted no time. He wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking, sucking so hard that you knew the following day his jaw and ears would hurt. At pump fifteen you already knew you needed more than twenty to cum. And as twenty arrived you whined but you felt confident that the next set would suffice.

This time you felt your edge at twelve, still you needed more. You were getting wetter and wetter, so soaked that his saliva and your slick mixed up and made you feel uncomfortable between your asscheeks.

"Joon–" You said, at which he mumbled "language" in between two pumps.

"Daddy, I want your fingers inside." You said, indulging his every whim.

He fumbled around with his arms, securing you with his left, making sure that your backside wouldn't get too close to the edge of the seat, and cause you to fall. His right arm moved back to your front, his index and middle finger coming to your entrance and waiting, his drool sliding from his tongue down your slit and directly on his fingers which, now lubricated, slipped in with no friction or resistance. The pressure was mind-blowing, your head spinning. "Daddy, please."

"Please what?" He said, hitting his pause.

"Make me cum. Let me." You asked, as meekly as you could.

"Why should I, uh?" He teased.

"Because I am a good girl." Because I love you, said an obnoxious part of your brain.

"Then I need you to say it one last time, Vixen. I know I've tormented you, but I need to ask it once and for all. Is there anyone else?" He said, his voice almost breaking.

"No, Namjoon. I swear to God, there's no one else. I promise it. I swear on everything that I love the most. Please." You begged, hoping that he would feel the desperate honesty in your voice. "Please. You're my only daddy. I have you, only you. I am yours." You said, and God if it felt right, if it felt true, being his, belonging to him.

Tell him you love him, your brain said again, but you refused.

He smiled brightly at your declaration. "We're done playing, if you want to, Vixen."

You simply nodded, batting your lashes at him. "I want to."

"Then hold tight because I'm not going to stop until you're fucking my face and screaming my name and shaking on this seat. Understood?" He warned you.

"Yes, daddy." You replied.

"Then hold tight, baby fox. I'm gonna eat you alive."

"Try." You challenged him.

And that's when he pounced. His pumps became longer, impossibly tighter, and the small pause between one and the next became shorter. Your eyes locked with his, brows knitting together, lips parting in a mewl as you threw your head back. "Namjoon. Please, daddy."

Smirking, he mixed the pumping motion with a barely-there curl of his tongue, teasing your clit with such delicate pressure that you couldn't even wrap your head around the incredible amount of tension that it was causing in your body. Your hands tightened in his hair, your moans dissolving into small giggles.

He wanted to tell you how good you sounded, how pretty you looked, how he wanted to see this every day for the rest of his life. He loved seeing you this happy, this carried away. He loved your morning voice and your late night cuddles. He loved breakfast in bed and midnight snacks and three a.m. quickies. He loved watching you take off your bra from under your t-shirt before going to bed, he loved seeing you shiver as you went to the bathroom early in the morning, clad in his t-shirt, plain cotton briefs and a pair of socks even in the dead of winter, since he always kept you warm under the covers by holding you close. He wanted to confess it all: the heartwarming wonder he felt staring at you had when you focused while reading and studying, when you brushed your hair, when you got dressed before leaving for the day, when you stood at the kitchen counter, cooking, with your back to him, and again when you applied lotion all over your body after showering, when he kissed your nape, standing behind you and donning the zipper of your dress.

However, he stayed silent, showing it all with the reckless ministrations of his mouth as your chest blushed, your hands grabbed his hair almost painfully and your hips snapped, your mouth opening in a silent scream.

You hadn't even bothered telling him you were cumming. He knew anyway. His mouth became more gentle, resolving to small licks while his fingers massaged your walls deep and slow, perfectly responding to the contractions of your muscles. "Here, pretty thing." He murmured, his hair tickling the skin of your stomach. "I've got you, baby. Shhh." He calmed you down, your breath coming in heavy pants, your heartbeat going like crazy. He rubbed his soaked fingers against his thigh, briefly cleaning himself before coming up to your face, cupping your cheeks. "Are you okay, little one?"

You nodded with your eyes closed, getting sleepy.

He caressed your face. "Open your eyes for me, baby girl, let me see your pretty eyes."

With a beatific smile you tried to look at him, eyelids lifting, taking a few seconds to focus on him.

"There she is, my moonshine." He cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You look really happy, baby thing."

You simply moved your head in a nod.

"Do you want more, little fox?" He asked, still fussing over you. "Can you take it just one more time, babe?"

Licking your lips you nodded again with a giggle.

He smiled. "You keep nodding, baby. Are you saying yes to daddy?"

"Yes, Joonie." You whispered slowly.

"Good girl. Can you walk, Vixen?"

"Yes."

"Great. I want you to kneel in front of the coffee table, darling." He commanded, rising to his feet and helping you stand up.

This would be the last time, he decided.

He would allow himself your heaven just one more time, then he would hold you close for a few minutes, clean you up, accompany you home and let you go. He wasn't man enough to look into your eyes. He was weak and unfair. He turned you around with your back to him, his erection brushing against the small of your back. Once you were in front of the table, he moved your hair to the side, skimming the curve of your ear with his lower lip. "Kneel, Vixen."

You did.

He kneeled behind you, moving the books and magazines on the floor, away from the two of you, while the traces of your dinner were thrown into the bag, which he would discard later. With an empty table, he pushed his palm from the small of your back to your nape, making your front adhere to the table and making sure that your hair was out of the way. "I know you love this table." He murmured.

"I do."

"I do, too." His heart felt like a burden. Without further hesitation, he grabbed his length and rubbed his tip against you. "You ready, ____?"

"Please."

With a groan he slipped in, the filling sensation causing a loud whine on your behalf. "Quiet." He reprimanded.

You got a little scared at his dark voice, knowing that at this point you'd better obey. However, it lasted little. Once he bottomed out, he growled, bending down to your neck. "You good, little one?" He said, his sweet persona back in place.

"Yes, daddy."

He was breathing heavily through his nose as he sucked at the skin of your neck, marking you. As soon as he was sure the mark would bruise and stay for at least a couple days, he released your skin. "Do you want your spanks, baby girl?"

Your eyes rolling with pleasure, you hummed. "I want them so much, daddy. Spank me, please."

He simply breathed. "With pleasure, little one." He knew no one would ever be this good to him.

His chest parted from your back, a small shiver settling in instead.

The first smack was harsh, angry. You clenched around him and he thrusted in violently, growling.

The second one hit the tender skin of your outer thigh, where it met your ass. "Daddy." You whined.

"Quiet." He chastised again, his voice strained. He hammered into you four or five times.

"Daddy, it hurts." You cried out, at which he stayed silent, simply spanking you again, twice, without rubbing soothingly at your skin. You emitted a shrill huffing sound of complaint, at which he answered with violent ramming into you, using both hands to push you onto his lap.

This was not how Joon usually did it. This was not normal. With worry distracting your mind, you turned your head, looking at him. His eyes were closed, droplets falling down his cheeks. Was it sweat or tears?

"Namjoon?" You asked, alarmed.

He shook his head, biting his lip. "You good?" He asked, eyes still closed.

"Stop." You murmured.

He obeyed, exiting your warmth and opening his eyes, still avoiding your gaze contact. "Did I—?"

"Look at me."

He shook his head. "I can't."

"Namjoon." You reprimanded.

As your eyes met his, you noticed they were rimmed with tears, and he was biting his lip to hold back a sob, shaking his head in shame.

Your initial shock was followed by an overwhelming sense of tenderness for the beautiful, delicate man in front of you.

You quickly decided what to do.

You turned around fully, facing him as you stood on your knees, your hands caressing his cheeks. "What is it, Joonie bear?"

He simply frowned and hid in the crook of your neck, desperate.

"What is it?" You asked again.

He nuzzled even more into your chest, inhaling the damp feel of your skin. "I just want it to be a good memory." He huffed with a broken whisper.

A memory? "Why would it be a memory, Namjoon?" You asked, confused.

"If it's our last time, I wanna be good to you." He said, and you could feel every ounce of sadness in his voice.

Last time? "Joonie bear, why would it be our last time?"

His shoulders shook with sobs as he stopped holding back his tears. "I've been a bastard, it's okay if you want to go." He tried saying in his most composed voice.

You frowned in confusion. "No, Namjoon."

"You want to leave me. It's okay. I need it only one last time."

You shook your head, trying to grab his chin and make him look at you. However, he strongly opposed.

"Joonie." You murmured, hugging his head and caressing his hair. "I'm not here to leave you." You whispered. "I want to be with you." You continued.

He shook his head even more. "I was dumb. You have every right—"

"No." You kissed his head, caressing his shoulders, hugging him tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at you, his face covered in tears.

"Oh, baby bear." You cooed, touching his cheeks, kissing his forehead. "Don't cry, Joonie." He disappeared even more into you, hugging your entire figure, dwarfing you. "Don't cry, my love." You whispered, the word tiptoeing out of your lips. He sobbed harder. "I'm so in love with you, Joonie bear." You crooned, offering him all your soul in those simple, childish words.

"You love me?" He asked, confused, alarmed, petrified.

"I love you, Namjoon." You repeated.

He completely forgot his messy face and brought his lips to yours, his mouth melting into you eagerly as your tongues spoke a language that came so natural to both of you.

Breathless, he parted from you. "I love you. I love you so much." He pressed tens of kisses on your face with such speed and pressure that you felt like disappearing into him.

"I love you too." You giggled, trying to clean his face.

You both laughed, elated, his hands coming to your waist, holding you closer and closer. "I wanna make love to you." He whispered. "Let me love you."

"Missionary on the carpet or cowgirl on the sofa?" You asked.

"Why choose when you can have both?" He wiggled an eyebrow. You smiled. He smiled back. "Let's get on the sofa." He replied gently. "You'll catch a cold with your sweaty back on the freezing floor."

"But no missionary on the sofa…" You cried out like a child.

He smiled. "Do you want missionary so bad?" He kissed your temple, smiling.

"I guess I'll be happy with anything you want." You pouted, still doubtful.

"C'mere." He said, getting even closer. You slipped your stilettos off and he picked you up by the back of your thighs and with some strength you didn't know he had, he carried you to the sofa, careful not to step on your shoes. "I'm going to sit. Careful with your legs." He warned, plopping down as carefully and as gently as he could, mercifully avoiding to sit with your calves underneath him.

"Don't worry, I won't make you ride me, baby." He kissed your brow. "You're too tired for that." He cradled you to his chest, offering you a bit of his body heat. "Can you push it inside you for me, love?" He asked seducingly, kissing your neck.

You smiled and reached between your bodies. He was already pulsating, you knew he would come undone in a few strokes. Slowly, you lifted your hips and pushed his tip inside, making him groan.

"You're always so tight, babylove. Fuck, you feel amazing." He sucked at your neck some more, drawing a twin bruise to the one you had on the other side of your throat. "I feel like a fucking teenager with you. I can never get enough." His hips jutted a little, pushing into you while his forearm around your waist pulled you down, his hand gripping your ass.

"Daddy." You breathed out, your forehead pressed against his neck as he bottomed out.

"Yes?" He replied, soothing you with long caresses down your spine. "Does it hurt, doll?"

He had so many nicknames for you but you couldn't wait for your next. "No, daddy." He held your face away from his shoulder. "Are you sure babylove?"

Your face stretched in a slight grimace. "Maybe."

He giggled and kissed your cheek, sliding down to your mouth. "I'm sorry, Vixen." He pressed his lips to yours once and then again. "I'm so sorry, baby. For everything." He combed your hair back. "I can't promise you I'll never hurt you, but I can promise I'll try to make it better every single time." He held you close as your brow furrowed. "I love you." He whispered, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other pressing on your lower back.

"I love you too." You said right back. "But please, Joonie…"

"Need me to move?" He asked.

"I want you to cum." You murmured.

He smirked and nodded. "Want me to finger you?" He asked, already drawing short thrusts into you and helping you ride him with his forearm around you.

"Yes, please, daddy." You whined.

His right hand left the crown of your head, coming to the top of your thighs and beginning to draw small circles at the apex of your labia, the flat of his thumb wide enough to cover your bundle of nerves entirely.

"Would you like to take your time, Vixen?" He asked kindly, knowing that sometimes it took you a bit longer than him to actually get worked up.

"I just need you to keep going exactly like this. You're perfect, Joonie."

He grunted and started pushing into you from below. "Like this?" He said, his voice a tad strained.

His thrusts were low and deep, curling just enough to hit your sweet spot. He realised you started holding your breath. Usually that meant you were close.

He bent his head, looking down where your bodies joined. It was hypnotizing, his thumb drawing perfectly identical circles. He started kissing and licking any and every inch of skin that came close to his mouth, your shoulder, your chest, your neck, sucking whenever he managed to grip the skin for long enough to bruise and mark.

When you started shoving yourself on him, bouncing in earnest, he kept his cool and stopped fooling around, staying focused on lasting long enough, doing the exact same thing, knowing that with a few thrusts delivered just right, you would become like putty in his arms and he could just get crazy and chase his high.

With your lips parting in a high pitched moan, you pressed your hips to his two more times before your chest collapsed into his with a tired whimper. "Take what you need." You murmured before propping yourself with your forearms against the back of the sofa, lifting your hips. Your face was pressed at the crook beneath his jaw, your tongue blindly chasing the droplets of sweat sliding down the column of his throat. He emitted an animalistic groan before his palms thudded heavily against your glutes, gripping your hips so hard that both his knuckles and your flesh turned white. And then he started ramming into you from below. The sounds in the room were a mix of his grunts, the smacking of flesh and the wetness between your legs, but more quietly, under all those layers, in between a groan and the next, there were his whispered love declarations, which poured out of his mouth like prayers, until he was so close, so fucked out that he could only repeat 'I love you', over and over, interrupted only by a final howl as he spilled inside you.

In all of this you had tried to stay quiet, shushing him and kissing his neck, not sure that you were allowed to mark him.

You laid both exhausted, his body sliding sideways down the sofa, trying to rest on the seats, his head laying on an armrest as his ankles dangling from the other. You covered him like a blanket, your hair draping over his chest and tumbling down the edge of the sofa.

You were both sweaty and messy with cum and drool, still you simply laid there, until you felt too cold and shivered.

"Blanket?" You asked.

He shook his head. "I'd better dress you and take you back at mine. I can go home tonight. There's no use working late. I need to rest anyway."

"Are you sure." You asked, touching his face.

He kissed your wrist. "Sure."

"I have to clean your chair first. I should have some wet wipes in my handbag." You mumbled. "And I should clean myself too before I drip on your lovely sofa."

He hummed, tired, fake-crying as he said "I don't wanna get up."

"My bag is right beside the sofa, just stretch your arm backward." You directed him.

He fumbled around a bit, moving the bag from behind his head to your side, where you could easily reach inside. After a bit of rummaging, you fished out your wipes, making a quick work of pulling him out and cleaning yourself.

"Cold." He muttered with a pout, which you kissed away from his face.

"Come on, baby bear, get up and get dressed. I wanna shower with you and shower you in kisses." You pampered him, trying to convince him to get ready to leave.

He whined as you sat up, quickly dashing to recoup your underwear. Once you were wearing it, you cleaned his chair, quite happy when you noticed that it wasn't half as bad as you though. When you turned, you noticed he was staring at you, already completely dressed, your dress in his hands. You moved closer.

"Up with your arms, love." He said gently, and for a second you realised that your simple and emotional confessions weren't a mirage caused by arousal or desperation.

You followed his instructions as he helped you wear your dress, slipping it over your head and helping you find both sleeves. Next he gripped the hem at both sides, delicately rolling the fabric down your body. Once it reached your knees, he let his hands skim back up your hips and waist, crossing his wrists behind your back before squeezing your ass. He stared at your throat.

"Will I have to wear a turtleneck for the next ten days?" You asked, slipping the neck of your dress aside and checking the damage.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"It's okay. I like it. I'm just teasing you." You said with a playful smirk.

"Brat." He mouthed with a snicker, bending down to pick up your tights.

You tutted, stealing them from his hands. "Let me do these, they're tricky."

He simply stared, his body trembling with a new tide of arousal at the mannerism you used to put on the garment, rolling up one leg between your thumbs and forefingers, pressing your toes against the stitching and dragging the nylon up your leg. He had seen this scene in an old Italian movie, but seeing the gesture in real life helped him understand the frenzy that the main character experienced after such an act. After you repeated the movement on the other leg, his mouth practically salivating, he watched some more as you fixed the gusset and the waistband, stretching the garment around the curve of your ass.

"Call me whenever you need to wear those." He whispered in marvel and agony. "I might take them off you just to see it all over again."

You smiled coquettishly, grabbing your coat and wearing it.

He kneeled in front of you, holding one of your shoes. "When's your birthday?" He asked, making you lift one foot as he slipped your heel on.

You frowned, the connection unknown to you. "Mid-november. Why?"

He held your other shoe and you held onto his shoulder as you lifted your other foot, wearing the black stiletto. "I loved seeing those on you tonight. I might buy you another pair or eight as a birthday gift."

You shook your head and laughed. "I don't need a sugar daddy, I'm happy with my plain, regular one." He rose to his feet and you grabbed his cheeks, planting a big, fat smooch on his mouth. "I'm actually very, very in love."

"Hello, Actually Very, Very in Love. My name is Head Over Heels — he pointed at your shoes — in Love. Pleased to meet you."

You laughed and he felt his heart explode with joy, his nose brushing against yours with Eskimo kisses. "Your bag." He said, bending to pick it up. "My bags." He said, collecting his tote and the small paper bag with his belongings that you had brought him. He neared his desk, checking the various devices. "Equipment off, computer off–" He mumbled as he moved the mouse to shut down the system. Meanwhile you fixed the low table, putting the magazines back on top of it. He switched off his table lamp and moved towards the door. "Dinner." He reminded himself, picking up the trash bag by the entrance. "You ready, Vixen?"

You hummed in confirmation.

"Let's go."

#bangtan smut #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #Namjoon x reader

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salsadips · 4 years

Text

If I Could Fly - Harry Styles

This was just a cute little thing I had in mind and I really didn’t use that much time on it so it’s not perfect, but I still think it’s sweet and I hope you like it<3

Summary: Harry has to do a show on your anniversary, but he still finds a way to express his love to you

This is just pure fluff

Gif’s not mine, creds to the owner

You and Harry had been together for a little less than a year when you wrote If I Could Fly together. You were sitting by the Piano Harry had placed in his living room around 2 am and the song almost wrote itself as you looked into each other's eyes, feeling like the world was yours to conquer. Maybe a little bit of alcohol had been consumed through the night, but when the song was finished after approximately thirty minutes and you stared into the green forest of Harry's eyes and he the blue ocean of yours (I'm really sorry if you don't have blue eyes I just thought it fitted), you were both sure that you wanted to spend a very long time together.

You wrote songs for a living. Writing them, selling them, and then often seeing them on the hit lists a couple of months later. You were talented and you had written many songs throughout the last couple of years, but never had you written a song with as much emotion as when you and Harry made If I Could Fly.

When Harry's fellow bandmates asked him one night about a week later if he had any new songs up his sleeve, Harry played them the beautiful song the two of you had written together. Both Louis, Niall, and Liam absolutely loved it and immediately started trying to convince him to put it on the album they were in the middle of making. Of course, they would've respected if Harry said no because they knew the song meant a lot to him. Actually, the song meant absolutely everything to Harry, and that was why he wanted it on the album. Because he was so in love with you that he wanted to scream it so loud that the whole world would've been able to hear. It had been physically impossible for him to do that though, so what better way to tell the world than through a song?

You were excited to see all One Direction's fans react to the song and once it was released many of them quickly figured out that it was about you and Harry's relationship because your names were the only ones on the credits given to the writers of the song.

Now, five years later, you and Harry still loved each other more than anything and you knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your lives together. You'd had If I Could Fly on repeat for many occasions during the last five years and the song had never failed to make you smile. That's why whenever you were sad you put on the song, whenever you and Harry were in a fight you put on the song, whenever he was on the other side of the world and you missed him like crazy you put on the song, whenever he was only ten minutes away but you still missed him you put the song on, but during the last scenario you would usually play the song on the way to his house.

Harry would do the same, but he would be listening to an old recording on his phone of the day you'd written the song together where your voice would echo beautifully through the speakers instead of the album version with his old bandmates.

The song meant everything to both of you and it had been written with so much love and emotion that it was almost impossible for you to listen to it without your eyes glassing over slightly, and that is exactly why Harry had planned to play it at his concert tonight. It was your six-year anniversary and even though Harry would much rather be cuddled up with you on the couch and watching old movies while drinking expensive wine as you usually did, he had been forced to have a show tonight.

When he had planned his tour many months prior, he had made sure to keep the date of your anniversary off his schedule so that he could grant all his attention to you solely, but his plan had been changed when it had been necessary to cancel one of his shows in London. He'd then been offered to change the date so that thousands of fans wouldn't get disappointed and of course, Harry had immediately said yes, disappointing his fans was the last thing he wanted. When Harry found out that they'd moved the date to today, your anniversary, he regretted the decision though.

Even though you'd told him several times that you really didn't mind he's still been unsure whether to do the show or not. "But I want to be with you" he had pouted like a puppy and your heart had completely melted. "You will be, I'll come to the show and we'll go home and be together afterward" you'd kept reassuring him. You'd always loved to watch Harry perform, so you were always happy when you got the chance to.

You did end up convincing Harry to do the show, but he still felt like he needed to make it up to you and he knew the perfect way how to.

All that led up to this moment, Harry on stage just having finished Sweet Creature, you backstage and the crowd screaming at the top of their lungs. "So," Harry started, the screams of the crowd dying down a bit, "today is a very special day."

"The day you realized you're shit at making jokes" a fan standing in the front line yelled from the crowd which had gone almost quiet. Laughter broke out through the room and Harry tried to look offended but couldn't quite keep his own laughter back. He walked closer to the edge of the stage to look down at the girl who'd yelled and pointed a finger at her once he found her. "I tell very very good jokes" he stated, trying to sound as serious as possible. The whole crowd broke into laughter again and Harry looked up with his mouth agape, "what? Why are you laughing? You shouldn't be laughing, I tell extremely good jokes" he said, playing offended.

He turned to you, standing on the left side of the stage, "y/n, my jokes are good, right?" he almost pleaded. The crowd went absolutely crazy at the mention of your name and you could only laugh in response which made him raise his eyebrows and his eyes widen, "why are you laughing?"

You blew him a kiss which he huffed at and turned to the crowd, "she blew me a kiss as if that makes it better" he rolled his eyes playfully, but the room went loud again as screams filled the air. "Let's get back to the point before my ego starts hurting too much," Harry said, making his fans laugh.

"I'm not good at telling jokes, but I still make you laugh don't I?" He just had to get his point through before continuing, which made the crowd erupt in laughter again. As he was proved right, he was able to continue. You shook your head at his narcissistic ass, but couldn't possibly wipe the huge smile you had on your face off.

"Today is a special day because," he squinted his eyes at the girl who'd offended his jokes before continuing, "six years ago I grew balls big enough to ask this girl out," he said and your heart automatically sped up as the crowd screamed uncontrollably, what was he doing?

"I love her a lot and I want today to be very special for her," he said as another microphone was carried onto the stage and placed beside his. Harry turned to you and motioned for you to come onto the stage as the screams from the thousands of people in the room went crazy. Your eyes widened and you quickly shook your head, whatever he had planned you weren't doing it. You knew Harry and all his "good ideas" and you were not doing something which required you and a microphone and a whole lot of people. Harry put up his finger and spoke to his fans, "one second" before running across the stage and towards you.

When he approached you he didn't say anything, just gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and pulled you onto the stage with him. He placed you in front of the microphone next to his own before holding your hand up in the air, "y/n everyone!"

Being in front of so many people had always made you uncomfortable, but Harry's naturally relaxed personality always shined through in situations like these and you immediately felt more comfortable being next to him. You locked eyes with him as he let your hand back down and he quickly leaned over to give you a peck on the cheek, before turning around and sending a thumps up to his band.

The melody to If I Could Fly started and a smile broke onto your face at the sound of your favorite song. You looked at Harry who was already looking at you with the goofiest smile you had ever seen on his face, and your smile only grew as he started singing the first line of the song.

"If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you" he sang and the crowd went crazy at the sound of the familiar song. His eyes remained on yours though as he continued, "I think I might give up everything, just ask me to."

"Pay attention, I hope that you listen 'cause I let my guard down" he gave your hand, which he was still holding, a squeeze, "right now I'm completely defenseless."

"For your eyes only, I'll show you my heart For when you're lonely and forget who you are I'm missing half of me when we're apart Now you know me, for your eyes only For your eyes only"

He finished the chorus and gave you a reassuring nod, encouraging you to sing. You eyes didn't leave his once as you sang,

"I've got scars even though they can't always be seen And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing Pay attention, I hope that you listen 'cause I let my guard down Right now I'm completely defenseless" He joined you as the song came to the chorus again and your voices melded together beautifully and you knew you were never gonna forget this moment, with the screaming fans in the background. Harry was a very private person towards the public, so you knew that him presenting you to the crowd like this meant a lot and even though you'd been taken aback by his request to sing with you, you realized at that moment that there was nothing you loved more than singing with him.

When Harry was just about to start the third verse of the song, he turned his microphone so it was facing you, and let go of your hand to grab your microphone and turning it as well. You were standing face to face as Harry started singing, making your heart almost burst with all the different emotions currently occupying it.

"I can feel your heart inside of mine" he sang and you smiled, his voice had always been the most beautiful sound to you.

"I've been going out of my mind, know that I'm just wasting time" you continued before he finished the verse, "and I hope that you don't run from me."

As you sang the chorus together again, you looked directly into each other's eyes, your faces close as you sang your hearts out. You got lost into the deep depths of his eyes and it was like the rest of the room disappeared, only you and the man who carried your heart present. Harry looked at you and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. As his eyes pierced into yours, they carried all the love he had for you and as the song ended he embraced you in a tight hug and you couldn't stop the tears welling up in your eyes.

"I love you so much, baby" he whispered into your ear and kissed you on the forehead before letting you go and made sure you returned to the side of the stage safely to watch the rest of the show.

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