#out of all songs they can perform in the future i'm scared of watching this one the most..

[lokisasylum]

I'm sorry but 🐰 is so FAKE!

"My future changed because of it. If I hadn't done this project I would probably still be in bed, eating and watching cartoons"?????

As if he and everyone at Hybe didn't know since months PRIOR how his debut was gonna go down, like that Hybe staff (and Jimin anti) that got caught on DC Gallery talking smack during Jimin's debut about JK's single, because they all knew it had already been BOUGHT thanks to 🛴 & Bongo.

[Reminder that ALL Suchwita episodes are pre-recorded months PRIOR to present events]

Also the way he stated:

"I'm Korean , but I'd like to be the one and only singer who can cross back and forth between k pop and pop songs I'm gonna conquer all genres if I could " "one and only singer"... one and only singer to do WHAT when OTHERS have already done it BEFORE YOU??? (Shinhwa? Ailee??? Hello???) He'll never be the "first and only", "one and only", JUST THE PRIVILEGED ONE.

But you know what really gets on my tits? Its the way he toyed with the fandom's emotions through vlive acting out this story of the mistreated, neglected member that was too scared to ask the company for permission to come on vlive to talk to army, so he asked one of his hyungs to cover for him and "take the blame".

And then continued his little sob-story of "Oh I haven't left my apartment in over 3 weeks. All I do is eat takeout and sleep and play with my dog 🥹 please pity me." Getting so drunk that he passed out like twice (with a whole ass candle still lit) and coincidentally SOMEONE who was already inside the apartment would turn off the live (IF there was a staff with him at all times while recording, why did they let him get so drunk to the point of passing out? )

Then came the rebellious, child tantrums at his own hyungs asking him to take it easy with the drinking live (consequentially bringing hate against said members and his solo stans applauding this behavior as him "standing up for himself & doing what he wants" and how "respect has to be earned").

Then came the sasaeng scare, the "Please don't follow me to the gym where I work out every day, that scares me buuhuu 😭." And again getting drunk "to show how upset he is" by the whole situation, causing more unnecessary concern (a.k.a creating morbid anticipation and more people tuning in to the circus show).

But the live that really took the cake was when he first failed to hide the very obvious vape that was literally on top of the table in a very obvious pink color (like his hoodie) that many quickly identified, then another sob story, then FINALLY came the TEARS, acting like he was about to say goodbye to the fandom for the last time with the perfectly executed: "Please be happy, even if I'm not here." before ending the live and sending the fandom into a frenzy of "omg poor kookie, he's suffering so much" and "omg what if he harms himself???"

Everyone was SHITTING themselves on the TL, expecting the worst to happen.... only for Hybe to share a post from CK with a clip ready to announce that JK had been named Global Bran Ambassador to CK, with this huge promo, a whole ass video, photos, posters, an interview, the whole she-bang.

And suddenly... he was fine? Did another live like NOTHING happened? And the ones that followed??? Suddenly he was this refined model for CK that actually gave a shit about his image? Ya'll cannot convince me that this man was not gaslighting the FUCK outta the fandom through this whole shit-show while 🛴& Bongo finished up securing his achievement$ & po$ition on the chart$ before officially announcing his debut (despite having announced a month prior that another member would debut instead).

Even Jimin called him out on his BS during that live in the car after one of the music shows where outta the blue he interrupted the live saying he was gonna go watch Jimin perform live, as if he didn't know that Jimin's promotions had ended that very day.

Like atp I just feel pity for his stans 'cause they're SO NAIVE that they believe everything he says to the point of creating this false narrative that JK was the one who actually got sabotaged on his debut and received the shortest debut/promo time compared to Jimin. When the cold hard truth is that everything he got was thanks to all the MONEY 🛴 & Hybe invested on him.

#I'm sorry I know Jimin loves these dudes but it needs to be said #they've been gaslighting the fandom since those final concerts in Las Vegas #first it was namgi with the whole obsession with grammys #then SG lying on vlive about having done crossfit with the others and accusing armys of making it up

[musicncomics]

I just watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and I have to rant about it real quick.

Spoilers under the cut for those who want to see it- I HIGHLY recommend the movie btw.

-So, first off THE MUSIC IS SPECTACULAR. The scene where Lucy Gray is covered in the snakes is *chef's kiss*. Apparently for every song, it was a live performance by Rachel Ziegler, and she fucking nailed it.

I've seen a couple people criticize some of the songs as taking melodies from other IRL folk songs- but honestly, I don't see this as a bad thing as a lot of those original songs have probably been forgotten as this is YEARS in the future. Music evolves, and certain chords and beats will stay long after words are forgotten.

-Her dress is gorgeous- all of the costumes are awesome. I think I made one comment on how the school uniform looks a bit weird, but I quickly got over it.

-Flickerman is actually really funny- I thought he would be annoying as a bit character- but he did get a couple laughs out of me. (Which makes me feel bad because people were dying in those scenes, but at the same time- I think that's a commentary for another time.)

-Arachne's death was absolutely deserved.

-Wovey's death was absolutely tragic

-The drones were *menaces* and I LOVED IT- it was so fucking funny to me to see them flying around and nailing people square in the chest- or knocking people tf over.

-I love how Lucy Gray immediately called bull on Snow's "the third person I killed was my old self."

-THE OLD HOB WAS AWESOME!! The mood in the tavern was so cozy and joyful, and it is EXACTLY what I imagined the Hadestown speakeasy looks like when Persephone is singing "Our Lady of the Underground"

-That being said- I wish we got the scene where they burn it down for being the heart of rebellion.

-I didn't like the change they made to Jessup's rabies. He was supposed to get it while at the capital. That bite was supposed to be after their first night in the zoo, where they thought a rat bit him (later speculated to be a raccoon). I don't like how it was changed to a bat bite while on the train.

The whole point of it in the book was supposed to emphasize the propaganda that's even being forced onto capital citizens- not just district citizens- that the capital is utopian.

"There is no rabies in the capital anymore- we got rid of it within *our* borders. It must have come from those *filthy* districts. Look at how it turns him even more *animalistic.*"

But instead, they change the bite to be from a bat while they were on the train. To me, that seems too close to "the rabies came from the districts." (Even if it was a capital train.)

Like, at the start of the movie, we are treated to an absolute rollercoaster as they try to set up everything that was going wrong in the capital during the war in the span of 5 minutes. One of these being a dog who's foaming at the mouth. I entirely expected that bite to happen within the zoo with that kind of set up.

There could have even been really interesting pay-off for it too. Other students seeing the foaming, freaking out, and almost panicking because "rabies is back." (Hell, even have Flickerman seem spooked by it). SELL HOW DANGEROUS THIS DISEASE IS/ SEEMS TO THEM. Because they lived through it. Most people in the capital probably have a horror story involved with a rabies encounter, because of how rampant it apparently was in the capital.

-The same can also be said about Dill- I don't like how blaise they were about her constant cough, and possible tuberculosis. That shit kills- they would not be casual about being near her. (Though the absolutely would make jokes in her expense)

-Reaper could have been more of a dick. In book, he actually says "I'm sorry I'm going to have to kill you all." (In response Jessup spits in his face- which causes Reaper to ALSO contract rabies, but that's neither here nor there). He honestly isn't too threatening other than a quick jump scare when his mentor is first talking to him.

He's honestly more of a gentle giant? In a way? Like, he pairs with Dill and after she dies, collects all the bodies around the arena in a row and covers them. He isn't the same threat that he was in the books.

-I would have preferred if we went in the arena with a count of how many tributes were left. I think 22 were still alive? But it was really hard to keep track. I know in the book between the rough handling, the Arachne incident, and the bombing- both the mentor and tribute pool slimmed significantly before the games even started. But in the movie I think only 2 tributes actually died before the games.

-As far as that rollercoaster at the beginning- it throws a LOT of information at you all at once- and not all of it is mentioned again. Especially not the cannibalism- which I feel could have been changed a bit?

-We didn't get much about Snow's peers, which is a shame since he has SO MUCH that he thinks about each one of them and their backgrounds in the books.

-Clemensia's poisoning should have been more colorful, and could have been WAY more grotesque. I'm talking a rainbow of mottled skin spreading up her arm until her face swells shut. We also should have gotten confirmation on whether or not she died.

It would have been more satisfying if during Snow's hospitalization, he tried to see her, only to find those golden scales covering her body and turning her eyes yellow like in the book.

-I wish Maude Ivory was more of a character- she's one of the main reasons it's theorized The Hanging Tree and other songs by Lucy Gray are remembered.

-In the book, in that last conversation with the doctor, she tells Snow that she will never replay the footage of the 10th games. There's too much rebellion attached to it. I wish that line has been kept- that way his thoughts of "People will forget her" actually have a bit more weight.

-I wish we had seen more of Sejanus' mom- just to see what costumes would have done with her dresses.

-I wish we saw more of Tigris' designs, or heard more of her struggles with her boss- just a mention of what she had to do to keep the House of Snow on top.

I think that's it for now? I just watched it last night, so some things need a bit longer to be thought about, but in general I just want MORE.

#the hunger games #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thoughts #rant #movies #tbosas #thg

[eat-the-richard]

Utterly Obsessed With The Schlatt My Way Cover Because AI Is Fucking Losing

I think I've listened to this cover every day since its come out. A little bit strange since I'm not even the biggest fan of Sinatra, or Schlatt anymore for that matter. Nothing personal to the both of them, just not really my thing. But the implication of this cover is genuinely awe-inspiring in a way I still don't really have the words for.

AI disrupted a lot of industries this year. But none I feel took at as personally as the arts. Seemingly every day from all walks of the artistic palette, we say a regurgitation of infinite works from infinite possible sources. Every individual thought could become a strange, off putting yet still generally accurate piece of art. Entire animations were mushed through filter after filter to resemble styles of artists long dead and studios long dissolved. And, of course, internet micro celebrities with nary a song to their name have covered every song in existence.

Truly a tool for our perverted content age, AI has already been used, abused, run through its paces and spat back out. Quality be damned, these pieces of art could now *just* exist without talent or performance. Impressive, in a way, but terrifying in many more.

Not even to mention the numerous individuals dedicating their lives to their craft, becoming experts in their chosen field and deserving to make a well and honest living through their creations, suddenly finding themselves competing with a bastardization of their life's work annihilating them at a pace they can't match. But these AI advancements have potential to *stunt* potential. Why train your voice to simulate a musical instrument when you can upload thousands of voice samples to a tool and use that to sing any song imaginable? Why study a style of a given artist when their work can be morphed into an idea you just thought of two minutes ago?

Dangers such as these scare the shit out of me. Because art is all we have left, in a way. Nobody *should* be able to take this away from you, although god damn they have tried. Training the self to create expression in whatever way you please, even if it isn't financially viable, even if you can't do it as quickly or in the style that everyone wants, even if you kind of hate what comes out on the other side, it's still *you*.

AI can express. But there is no self. Its tools built on the works of countless others and rapidly expanding ways to sort them. Inherently plagiarist, AI works treat the heart crucial to the success of all art as disposable. Impressive AI works cannot be attributed to the idea, or the person responsible for clicking the button. Merely to the tool developed over years of work seemingly incongruent with art, for uses that should have nothing to do with art, plastered over the creation of art anyway by those who do not care.

This is all to say that jschlatt, who has had to sit there and watch his face, his voice, his very likeness flattened, used to create art he had no say in or control over, was able to take that control back. Undoubtedly, Schlatt has had some vocal lessons or *something* to get this sounding so polished, but the actual quality isn't why this is so impressive. It's impressive because *it's him*.

The reaction to this cover has been universally positive. Folks who were shocked Schlatt was able to pull this off. Those wanting more music from him in the future. But the single most apparent sentiment in the reaction was joy, glee even, in that this was *not* AI. This was his voice, flaws be damned, experience be damned, performance style be damned. This is him, and he put his *heart* into it. And you can feel that emotion pulsing through this cover, an attention to detail to respect the original work by trying to match its intricacies. Clearly exhibiting strain to hit the iconic high notes and long vibrato this legendary song is known for. No AI, no bullshit, this is *him.*

And the people love it. There is no replacement for the genuine article. AI is fucking losing.

#ai #fuck ai everything #jschlatt #dumping words onto tumblr today #Youtube

[villavineyards]

us against the world

i got my hands on an old katy perry song and im making it everyone's problem. tonight let us imagine a the one that got away scenario with willem and them regretting dropping mc so soon as they near the finale and they see mc happily smitten with bruno

cw: sad undertones, words of regret, unrequited love, open for all audiences

wc: 1.8k

will thinks to themself about the exact moment they knew they'd went down the wrong path. maybe things would have been better if mc had never coupled up with them in the first place, because at least then will wouldn't have to know what they're missing out on.

but, his favorite moment has to have been on that first night they met, after mc'd won the heartrate challenge and got kobi to dance on them. will liked that even though mc didn't dance on him, they still took him aside to talk after everything settled down.

"it's crazy, you in here now when we're all just getting used to each other."

"i can gladly leave if that's what you're saying here will," you'd said back in a snap, making will laugh before they'd knew what was happening. "funny gal you are, mc. don't leave me so soon though, you haven't even seen us shirtless yet." they'd slyly flirted, which didn't go unnoticed by you. "oh, i've been watching the show so far. can't say i'm too impressed, really." you'd said, eyes low and inviting.

"i'd say it's better in person, right?" he'd asked, not at all insecure and shifting slightly to face mc better. "you tell me," you'd said back, fully facing will now and your faces inches apart. will would have kissed you then, someone so similar to him and enthralling and everything he thinks he'd wished for, but loved the tension and pulled away.

and you'd stayed up there for so long with each other, the two of you talking about work and family and your relationship values and what you want to gain out of the summer. will wasn't sure when they'd got to this point, but you were talking about your high school experience and how you'd knew you wanted to be a performer.

"okay, you know katy perry right? well i saw her in concert, and she performed this one song that changed my life. the one that got away, acoustic version. it was like, the prime of songwriting to me- there had never been a written piece that resonated so strongly with me, that even now i reference to in my romantic relationships. it's totally weird, but it's my favorite song in the world ever." you spoke on, and will watched in admiration. he'd told you that it is weird yes, but it's sweet that you liked the song so much and they respected how strongly you stood behind it. they saw you for the first time, he thinks, especially when you'd talked about your sleeve tattoos after that.

you'd pointed to an innocent seahorse, outlined in purple and blue. you'd explained to will that the colors matched your ex's own tattoo of a starfish and that, if you two stood next to each other, would almost perfectly fit with the other. "maybe the artist knew something we didn't, by not making the tattoos line up. either way, i don't regret a thing. i like the ocean, so no harm done." you'd said dreamily, not bothered in the slightest. will then, almost in disbelief, pointed out a tattoo they have of a starfish on his back- you two had howled in laughter, doubling over and faces red as you both reached for the other amidst all the laughing.

"in another life..." he'd joked, both about the song and your seemingly matching tattoos. you nodded along, catching your breath as you smiled at them. "maybe. at least now we have halloween costume ideas, right?" you two were calming down, and will thought about their future in the show for probably the first time ever. and he liked it.

things went so smoothly after that, and coupling up with mc felt like the first right thing that had happened that summer. it scared will. what if you really were too good to be true, and you two hurt each other in the end? it's always like this, will thinks, where he doesn't want a good thing to end so he ends it first.

they remember mc's reaction when they said they wanted mc to not pick them at the recoupling. mc got out of the lilo, threw her hands up and said 'lovely will, have a great rest of your summer!' and walked off dramatically. at the time, will thought they'd dodged a bullet seeing mc so childishly end the argument. but now they know it was a moment of passion- they understand that more than anyone in the villa.

they also remember when mc washed their hair after the hotdog challenge, and when she'd explained all of that to them.

"i'm sorry will. for how i acted towards you and thabi that day in the pool. i have no excuse other than that i was upset at myself for having fallen so hard for you, and clearly put my eggs in the wrong basket. it wasn't anything personal, and i'm sorry if it made you or thabi uncomfortable. that's the last thing i'd want; you're a good pair."

will had told you about their thabi troubles then, and felt your hands stop in their hair briefly before continuing your ministrations. "well, i'm sorry to hear that then. at least you gave it a shot, right?" will wasn't sure if you'd said that bitterly or not, and the way you chuckled didn't help, but he found the humor in it all the same. "yeah.." they'd trailed off, not sure if this was a good time to apologize as well until you told them you'd finished up with their hair. will was suddenly very aware they were naked, and wasn't sure how things were so casual up until that moment. will knew they absolutely could have done something at that moment, but instead gave you a pat on the shoulder before shuffling away.

why was he so nervous? willem kimura did not get nervous. ever.

but when they saw the way you'd sprawled yourself out on the couch, he figured it was now or never. 'what's the least creepy way i can wake mc up?' they questioned, before eventually just leaning down to put a hand on your shoulder and seeing if fate would be on his side.

"hey..."

you leapt up comically, and dazedly mumbled about being queen of the couch. you looked pretty sleepy, but still were open to forgive him for interrupting your precious nap. they grinned bashfully, and crouched into your eye-view.

"i didn't mean to scare the queen of the couch. i just have some urgent business with her, if she'll allow it." he said, and once you granted him an audience, he continued.

"it's kinda serious... like, the ocean breeze in the morning kind of serious. the first dusting of rain after a hot summer day, every drop with its own purpose to serve until it hits the ground."

"ocean breeze sounds serious."

they nodded solemnly, tenderly fixing a gaze on you as your eyes began to clear up. "yeah. the ocean breeze, it's cool and refreshing, yknow? makes you more aware of things and feel more alert.. which is relevant to what i want to say. which, uh, which is... that i feel something with you still. that spark, you know? i can honestly tell you that it never went away, no matter what happened between us or not. and... when you washed my hair yesterday?" they paused for effect, hand touching their chest and a small smile playing on his lips.

"i liked the way your fingers moved, like if you were washing all the stress from me."

"i guess i was, in a way. your hair had loads of stuff in it."

"so true. i guess, it's just like... it makes me feel like there could still be something between us. something that could like, blossom into more.. like a well-rooted tree. do you know what the isu tree is?"

"sure."

"oh, cool! so you know that when it's fully grown, the roots sink into the ground and live for a long time- you just need to give it a chance to grow." they finished with a nod. "just think about it, and do whatever feels right, okay? i'll be off at the pool for today, if you want to find me again."

they walked away before you could respond, and sat on the lounger with a huff.

will tried not to be bitter. he really did. he didn't own you, he had no claim on you whatsoever. so why do they feel this way?

he'd even told you before he was not the jealous type, and that's true. the more the merrier! but for the first time, seeing you with bruno as his arm wrapped around your middle and your head laid on his shoulder, the same day as will'd confessed to you.. they didn't like it.

maybe will was too late? he had no regrets in anything ever, but they were thinking back on the summer and everything they'd gone through. leaving for thabi, getting stolen by valentina, getting back with thabi... and now here. alone. thoroughly crushed as he witnessed you pick bruno again.

will tried not to be creepy about it, they really did. he couldn't help staring, a million thoughts going through their head. he'd watched the way bruno's hand basically caressed your upper arm, right over your tattoos and will saw the way bruno lightly pressed on them, making you giggle and turn slightly. will's eyes narrowed on your seahorse that was practically glaring at him, and looked away before things got too weird.

will wanted to talk to you again, to apologize for putting you on the spot again and to let you know they had no hard feelings over not getting picked again. and, he knew it was bad, but maybe he could turn the tides just a little in their favor. maybe. all to be seen, and he wanted to see you right away. before he could, he stopped by the dressing room to put on just two more spritzes of his cologne, and ran his fingers through his hair. he looked at himself blankly in the mirror, wondering how it got to this point, and then set off to find you.

easier said than done, because will could literally not find you for the rest of the evening.

as the night came to a close, will finally spotted the top of your head near the daybeds, but heard you and bruno speaking to each other and forced himself to walk away as to not intrude. will would've kicked themself if they could, losing all momentum as he turned to walk away. before he could though, he heard six words from bruno's voice that let will know they'd lost.

"us against the world, right babe?"

will didn't have to see to understand how happy that probably made you, both because that's your favorite song (had bruno seen that part you'd shared to will on tv before he came in?) and because will remembered you value devotion above all. he stopped in his tracks, in the doorway entering the inside of the villa, and felt heavier than ever as they made their way inside finally.

it was over.

there was no coming back from that.

tbh guys none of the islanders make me want to write sad stories like will LMAOOO i see so much of myself in him and i guess that part of me that understands them as a character is also the part that doesn't like him HAJDFKASKJDH i'm insufferable and sappy as hell so idk i see this misunderstood artiste leads with their heart type and i'm like yeah let's kill the vibe and all chances of happiness... more to come

#i never said i was happy #incoming tags take cover #litg #love island the game #love island #li:tg #litg2 #li:tg2 #fusebox #litg 4 #litg4 #love island the game season four #love island season 4 #litg s4 #love island game

[theartistknownaslymond]

A playlist for Checkmate-era Philippa? x

mon chois et fait

A band AU playlist for Philippa pining over Francis. cf. Francis pining over Philippa, here

The final piece of the puzzle, if you will (young Philippa’s influences, Philippa’s musical evolution from DK through to RC)

Johnny Cash - Drink To Me Only With Thine Eyes

Erasure - Ship of Fools

Elvis Costello - Deep Dark Truthful Mirror

Shelagh McDonald - Stargazer

Kate Bush - Never Be Mine

Deacon Blue - The World is Lit by Lightning

Queen - Scandal

Pet Shop Boys - I'm Not Scared

New Order - All the Way

Steeleye Span - Seagull

Clannad - Almost Seems (Too Late to Turn)

Donna Summer - Breakaway

Tracy Chapman - Crossroads

Anne Briggs - Go Your Way

Shelagh Mcdonald - Let No Man Steal Your Thyme

The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl - Fairytale of New York

Prince & the Revolution - When Doves Cry

Eurythmics - We Two Are One

Faceclaims: Ellie Kendrick and Patrick Wolf. Idk when or why, but I got it in my head that the music of 1989 was largely naff, but then I started digging and it turns out there are a lot of songs about the difficulty of being in the spotlight while going through private turmoil. So - I hope you all like pain!

1) Yes it’s Ben Jonson’s poem, but sung by Johnny Cash. Technically only released on a later album, but I’m going to assume there was precedent for him and others performing it live in this style - Paul Robeson made it a big hit too, but the guitar version here is more Philippa. It’s *probably* the best I can do for a band AU equivalent to ‘Tant que je vive’, for now, at least, and Philippa has been established to be a big fan of Johnny Cash already.

2) The title of this is also a bit of a Renaissance Easter egg, but the lyrics don’t seem to resemble the text known as the Ship of Fools. 1988/89 were the big years for Erasure, but Pippa will probably have got to know them earlier, when she was working with charities and protest groups in London - Andy Bell having been out and proud from the beginning. I close my eyes and I try to imagine What you're dreaming Why can't you see what you're doing to me? My world is spinning The lyrics also make reference to ‘the baby of the class’, which I think plays on Philippa’s worry that Francis doesn’t take her seriously because of her age, and Francis’ own determination to prove himself outside Richard’s shadow.

3) This album features on so many of my playlists, but it’s really got it all! Philippa is again established to be an Elvis Costello fan in the AU. This is one of the most lyrically obtuse on the album, and fits with Philippa being as reticent to admit what she really feels as Francis is. It’s weird and increasingly troubling, which I do think fits Philippa’s search for information about Francis’ past, and how deep in she gets. A stripping puppet on a liquid stick Gets into it pretty thick A butterfly drinks a turtle's tears But how do you know he really needs it? Because a butterfly feeds on a dead monkey's hand Jesus wept, he felt abandoned You're spellbound baby there's no doubting that Did you ever see a stare like a Persian cat?

4) Keeping her folk roots - under Austin’s influence, but this song (from a woman who disappeared on the cusp of stardom in the 1970s - she turned up about 30 years later explaining that she’d had the mother of all bad trips) doesn’t need much explaining. The lyrics fit Checkmate so well: He was a stargazer She asks what'll the future bring Mercury and Jupiter will bring you wealth and golden rings They have climbed the hill and watched the sun go down to rest He said: "Will you be my friend? I fear that there's nothing left to give, my Lady" She said: "Let's follow the sun behind the hill To where it's hiding." He was a stranger to her His father was a poet Lead her by the hand on the hill Touch the golden sunset How did feelings die, he's afraid to know Why did she have to lie She'd only stay until it's time for her to go She said take the sun in your hands, be glad For this is love you hold.

5) ANY opportunity to put one of my all time favouritest songs on a playlist! But genuinely, it’s all about the unrequited love, the pining, the thinking that the other person is better off without you... Very much a Philippa perspective on Francis and Catherine d’Albon. Plus she could play a cover with the Northumbrian pipes instead of the Uilean pipes :’) And this is where I want to be This is what I need This is where I want to be This is what I need This is where I want to be But I know that this will never be mine

6) It’s maybe more precisely how Francis feels about Philippa, but as with the other playlist for them, I think a certain degree of overlap is inevitable. This is one of Adam’s favourite bands, so Pippa’s bound to encounter their new release on the tour bus or at a party. So maybe you're standing In some foreign town You've walked for miles Till the heat slows you down And your jeans and your curls Are bleached and split And your money and your anger Are all used up Maybe I'm sorry About the light in this place Makes my heart seem cold As the words on these pages Maybe I'm reminded By a shop window display or a decoration Like some church candle that might just burn Dancing under chandeliers and I'm telling you Caught in the headlights and I'm yelling it at you Why is it girl when the world is lit by lightning That I keep telling you that I love you

7) This one is just. Aughh. Philippa is in the midst of a media storm now, it’s been brewing ever since she came back from Las Vegas married to Francis Crawford with an adopted (sure, the world says, ‘adopted’) child. She’s trying to make the world better, trying to work out what kind of career she wants/what kind of music is ‘hers’, and in the middle of it she’s realised she actually loves the man she’s married to, who hasn’t yet managed to divorce her, but is publicly dating a huge French star and is also plastered all over the papers...papers that doubtless have much to say about both their sexuality, too. And like, yeah, this was released in 1989, it was one of the biggest albums of the year. It's only a life to be Twisted and broken They'll see the heartache They'll see our love break, yeah They'll hear me pleading I'll say for God sakes Over and over and over And over again, yeah

8) Neil Tennant, a fellow Geordie who refuses to talk about his sexuality to the slavering mob? He’s also since emerged as a big backer of Labour (prior to the 2000s anyway) and is a trustee in Elton John’s AIDs foundation. So definitely another of Pippa’s Ringed Castle contacts. They probably bonded over their shared love of Elvis Costello’s protest songs. And then there’s the lyrics. I mean: What have you got to say of shadows in your past? I thought that if you paid, you'd keep them off our backs But I don't care, baby, I'm not scared What have you got to hide? Who will it compromise? Where do we have to be so I can laugh and you'll be free? I'd go anywhere, baby, I don't care I'm not scared

9) Another album likely nicked from Adam, though they were also buddies of Neil Tennant. One for Pippa learning to find her own way between the music she grew up with (that Austin insists she should foreground) and the world she’s been involved in in London. Probably a bit of a manifesto, trying to toughen herself up for life after the divorce: It don't take no Houdini To tell me what I am Parasites and literasites They'd burn me if they can But I don't give a damn About what those people say They pick you up and kick you out They hurt you every day It takes years to find the nerve To be apart from what you've done To find the truth inside yourself And not depend on anyone

10) So, this is the kind of...folk rock that the ‘80s got. Bouncy! It’s also not actually a folk song I can identify, I think it was written by the band. It can be interpreted in light of the triangles in Checkmate - Catherine/Francis/Philippa and Francis/Philippa/Austin, plus Philippa’s own mission to find out about Francis at all costs. Penny the hero, Penny the fool The gold watch she gave me I'll treasure They say that it's only a game after all Apart from the pain it's a pleasure Seagull, seagull, three three in a bed...

11) More ‘80s folk! Clannad and Enya were getting big at this point, but this particular album again has a lot of Francis/Philippa relevant feelings. I just put this track on though, for the obvious...trying to work out if a relationship is still possible after painful revelations and public separation. Ah, Austin has no idea why she’s listening to it so much! To you I saw the sad decline A rift become a storm Stayed so cold last night This lonely heart inside me says

Almost seems to late to turn What to do if I'm to learn Almost seems to late to turn

12) Despite the mid-’80s rumours that she was homophobic, Donna Summer seems to have spent quite a lot of time and effort (in 1989 no less) on refuting those rumours (true, on the level of ‘some of my best writers are gay!’). And she is, after all, Queen of Disco. But Pippa and Danny have to have something to belt out together on tour bus karaoke nights! But I don't think she can take it And just friendship can't replace it She'll be strong enough for two Although it's hard for her to do She'll breakaway Ooh, ooh, ooh she'll breakaway

13) Ahh, someone had to make folk music cool again <3 Tracy is a gorgeous guitarist and singer, just the kind of inspiration Philippa needs when she’s feeling a bit lost at this end of the decade. What’s that? Another artist who is constantly badgered about their sexuality and refuses to talk about it? A second album dealing with the loss of privacy that comes with fame? She played at an Amnesty International set in London in ‘88, I hope Philippa got the chance to hang out with her then :) All you folks think you own my life But you never made any sacrifice Demons they are on my trail I'm standing at the crossroads of the hell I look to the left I look to the right There're hands that grab me on every side

14) Now this one ain’t from the 1980s, but Annie’s been established as an influence on Philippa (and Kate) from the start, and it’s this kind of pared-back, folk-club-friendly stuff that Austin’s probably hoping to get her back into. Bert Jansch and others helped to make this song Annie wrote big, so for Philippa there’s a bittersweet side to the fact that this song, written by a woman, not a traditional tune, was only recognised as being important when men started playing it (side-eyeing Austiiiiinnn). But she’ll certainly put it in her sets if she thinks Francis is watching :’) Friends and strangers bring stories When asked where you might be Magic stories they have brought to me You go your way, my love

15) This is like...the quintessential folksong for lamenting giving up your virginity to some useless guy who only wanted that from you and nothing more. For when your thyme is past and gone He'll care no more for you, you For every place that your thyme was waste Will all spread o'er with rue, rue Will all spread o'er with rue For woman is a branchy tree And man a clinging vine, vine And from her branches carelessly He takes what he can find, find He takes what he can find

16) I know we’ve kind of reached a point where people think it’s basic to say this is the best Christmas song ever, but actually, it is. So there. It’s perfect. It does contain the f-slur yes, as Shane McGowan says, it’s part of the persona Kirsty is singing, though he has also said he’s quite happy for it to be cut when people play it now. And we’ve had Pogues and Kirsty on Pippa playlists/inspiration lists before, too. Anyway - I propose: Francis and Philippa singing this live together, both madly in love with each other, knowing how in love they are with each other, daily pretending to be indifferent to one another, now having to play at hate-loving each other, while the whole world watches going ‘wtf is going on here?!’ K: "I could have been someone" S: Well, so could anyone K: You took my dreams from me When I first found you S: I kept them with me, babe I put them with my own Can't make it all alone I've built my dreams around you

17) Couldn’t have a Pippa playlist without Prince :’) And yeah, the album’s earlier, but I’m not sure Batdance really fits the mood here, plus it complements Purple Rain on Francis’ playlist. How can you just leave me standing Alone in a world that's so cold? (So cold) Maybe I'm just too demanding Maybe I'm just like my father: too bold Maybe you're just like my mother She's never satisfied (She's never satisfied) Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like When doves cry

18) A big bluesy ballad to finish up! Annie Lennox is from the same cut as a lot of other artists here: she’s done a lot of activism and fundraising, played the Mandela charity set in ‘88 and has been a big supporter of LGBT+ rights since appearing in an early Eurythmics video with short-cropped hair and a suit on. Per Wikipedia: ‘Lennox was viewed as the female version of Boy George. They appeared together on the front cover of the British music magazine Smash Hits in December 1983 with the headline "Which one is the boy?".‘ Stay classy, British music press. People like us Are too messed up To live in solitude I'm gonna cure that problem, baby I'm gonna fix it good...

#character: philippa somerville #playlists: period-appropriate #ship: the open sea #character: francis crawford #band au: checkmate #ficspiration: lyrics

[soniyastudiess]

I decided to torture myself and read my old journals. This is what I found and here is the wrapped:

Iconic/cringefail quotes from my old journals:

Dec 2015

"There are some things man can't change and on that list the top spot is reserved for the never ending chatter of kids."

April 2016

"i want to be a wanderer who travels in search of Justin Bieber songs and Hollywood movies"

Sept 2016

"Now I will tell you the biggest tragedy of my life. I've decided to not get into the 'gf and bf' stuff before I join NASA so I'm in a kind of dilemma."

Jan 2017

"My love life is as bad as ever but I'm looking forward to this year because according to the horoscope, my love life is gonna be amazing!"

"Now, I think that the whole school is going to know that I and xxxxx are gonna have a secret rendezvous!"

"She said that I would've aroused doubt in her mind by saying that cause nobody says I hate you to someone in private!"

March 2017

"...And the fact that life has nothing romantic to offer me, makes me more into these books! Reading people's stories when my own love story is at mortal peril!"

"What she gets after giving her best shot is almost equal to what I get after doing almost nothing at all!"

Jan 2018

"Speaking of fictional boyfriends, I'm totally over xxxx now."

Feb 2018

"I am not the chosen one nor I'm half-angel but I do have a shitty life"

"If i were in America, people would make fun of me still, but not in this way"

"I am too creative to handle my thoughts for sure."

"I know this world is big and full of possibilities but just for once, i want this world to be small for me, i want just one possibility."

"I said my love life was a square but then she said it was a triangle. I didn't agree, so we ended up calling it an 'angle', or rather, a traingle with no base."

March 2018

"I am scared for the future, for everything that is gonna come after this one year. All i have right now is a mantra 'padh le beta, 12 hai' "

"We need to find a rebound crush for me."

May 2018

"I've been binge watching thirteen reasons why. I am on the 6th ep of season 2. I kinda like that show. It was soo depressing, it helped me forget my depression"

August 2020

"I have never been this lonely, but i have never been this happy either. I needed this more than i can ever admit"

"I know I'm capable of being loved, of loving again, so I will root for that hope."

"Being a popular author is a dream only a few people get to live. Rest others are forced to live a life of oblivion, their books and creations tucked into darkness." 

Oct 2020

"It seems as if I have forced myself to stay within these walls"

Jan 2021

"Why do I hold my thoughts like Atlas holding up the weight of the entire world? I do not feel like I'm crumbling from the weight but there's this haze of heavy thoughts upon me that I cannot seem to lift."

"I have been building this world of thoughts and words. These thoughts in the form of books, movies, songs, they belong to someone else. All they do for me is dampen the intensity of the ones that actually belong to me."

"It's waiting, the spirit in me, she will burst me open with exhilaration when she thinks the time is right. She is fickle, she needs beauty, she needs a constant change of scenery."

"This will be your fall, you are Icarus, dying to touch the sky so much, you are dying to die. No no, you do not want to die. You are just agitated, angry, your defiance is performative. You're just bored out of your wits." 

"I should not want it, I am aware, but due to reasons completely irrational, i will be forgoing my last two braincells in favour of the straited muscles (the heart)."

"I JUST FOUND OUT LADY ADA LOVELACE WAS THE DAUGHTER OF THE ICONIC LORD BYRON. Hence for reasons completely irrational, i will be passing away."

"Hope is a dangerous game to play with yourself."

"My love for him is an ocean with unfathomable depths. He is a swimming pool. If he jumps, he will drown in my intensity. If i jump, I will hit my head. We both will die. Death is romantic, say the poets of old. Well, not this one, this death will be humiliating."

"We are academics, we explore the world through books, always living on the sidelines, we do not participate. We live in the past. We love art, yet we fail to make any. We love the world, we want to change it but we never try. We will never be heard except one day, sorting through dusty books, another lover will find us in pages, but we will never be able to create any real change. We deal with the mind, sometimes the heart, with the art we create. We cannot touch the tangible, our realm is the intangible and that is where we come alive. The problem however, is that we will never be remembered. John Keats was right when he said his name was written in water. Isn't everyone else's too? Ours specifically, is written on the waves. We do not create an effect, we are only felt. But I believe there are some who change the world like a Tsunami does. Shakespeare, remember? What did he do for the world? Nothing. He just wrote plays."

"I believe in love as the driving force that makes this ugly and unbearable world tolerable and meaningful." 

"You cannot nullify love just like you cannot nullify the existence of God." 

Feb 2021

"Valentine's day is a capitalist holiday. Even if it wasn't, there is no reason for celebrating it." 

"I am going for the crazy poet/scholar look these days so it hurts when i have to cut or comb my hair."

"We carry our home in our hearts. I do too, because if I didn't, I'd be homeless." 

April 2021

The Generation Z are a faithless and purposeless generation. We believe in equality, we have opinions- a lot of them but we don't have ideologies to follow or governments to overthrow. We have a fire in us that burns bright, but with no purpose, it seems to me that we're getting wasted." 

"I got a cousin baby brother! I'll admit, I did not like him much in the beginning, he looked like a shriveled potato but after they washed him up, I saw in the pictures that he looks like me!"

"Realism, pessimism, optimism- they're all words. We're all three and neither."

"Majority of the content in my journal includes me pining over a guy I dated for a month."

May 2021

"It's like looking at your scars years later, you see a fair patch of skin, it doesn't hurt, it doesn't make you feel the past pain, but it fills you with a sense of awe and wonder at your body, at its strength and its resilience." 

"I have learned the unbearable art of silencing the voice in my head. It is boring without it." 

July 2021 

"I didn't get any gifts and I was barred from buying more books" (on 20th b'day)

Jan 2022

" I have 99 problems and 110 of them would be solved if I lived alone in a small cottage on top of a hill."

"When it comes to the Romantics, I think I'm like John Keats. The sad but joyful/optimistic bastard that coughed blood and died. In all seriousness, I don't think I'm any more special or unique than this particular sad twink. It's a bummer really, because I actually aspire to be like Lord Byron. The bisexual disaster, obnoxiously charming and smart asshole that you want to punch in the face but then are too enamored by. Byron, the accidental hero, the adventurer and the rebel. That's who I want to be….. but Byron is Byron, I am not him. I am not mentally ill enough to pull off that sort of charisma." 

"I can exist and others too and we all can be the main characters. Existence isn't a competition. Not everything is." 

"I have always been single in my entire life of 21 years except for a month. I have been happy in my entire life of 21 years except for a month." 

"I made up things, I wanted a story. I look for a story everywhere- that's what we do." 

#journalling #old journals #dark academia vibes #personal diary

[lire-casander]

chapter #12 — outro

Recovery is slower than TK would have wanted, even after being discharged from the hospital after another five days of observation, probing and poking. The doctors remind him not to take showers on his own for the foreseeable future because hypothermia has messed with his ability to regulate his body heat, so he's always accompanied by either Paul or Judd. His father has had to go back to Austin after using all of his days off to take care of him for the first few weeks after his release. Marjan and Grace are the ones in charge of taking Jonah to and from school; TK can't walk for long without feeling as though his lungs are trying to set his whole body on fire.

And the whole time, he fights against his own desire to pick up the phone and call Carlos. It just wouldn’t be fair, calling him now just because he needs him. The last thing he wants is to use Carlos.

Since TK doesn't like feeling useless, he profits from the unusual calmness surrounding him these days to actually sit down and write. Music becomes once again his safe haven, even though the side-effects of the accident don’t always make it easy; he finishes three songs and even starts a fourth one before the end of the school's winter semester. Paul keeps him updated on everything about his musical career, now on hold for the time being until he fully recovers and can resume his interviews and his performances.

"There's real interest in you recording a duet album," he announces on a Tuesday as he enters the penthouse. TK’s been so focused in his writing, with sheets of paper wildly spread around him and his guitar in his lap, that Paul's presence startles him. "Hey, didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't expecting you, that's all," TK says, putting his guitar aside. "A duet album, you say?"

"Yeah," Paul confirms. "You have yet to sing your song with Ricky Martin live, you even have to record it yet, but it's already a big success. Everyone wants in with you now, TK Strand the hero."

"That's crazy!"

"So you better get well soon," Paul insists. "The execs want to hold a meeting with you regarding options, and there's even rumors of a new contract being offered. I have yet to get confirmation, that's just what I've heard through the grapevine."

"I wish this would go faster," TK complains. "At least now I can shower without any of you watching me like a hawk. But this" — he lifts his hands in the air, showing off the slight tremors that course through them — "this is killing me. What if I never play music the way I did before?"

"You will," Paul reassures him. "It just takes time."

"Five weeks, Paul! I'm ready to get rid of them."

Paul pats him on the arm before getting up. "I should be picking Marjan up soon," he says. "We're going to the movies tonight. Want to come?"

"And be a third wheel?" TK huffs out a chuckle. "No, thanks. But you still owe me the story of how you two ended up together."

"What for?" Paul teases. "So you can see if you've won the betting pool going around? Don't give me that look, I know you and Judd, and the rest of the gang. I won't give you ammunition."

TK watches as his manager leaves the penthouse. He's grateful that Paul didn’t specify who the gang is; he's aware that, despite being broken up with Carlos, their friends have kept in touch. They became close during the short-lived romance that brought them all together; it's only normal that they've been in contact. They've just been polite enough to not mention their gatherings to TK.

And it's not as though TK hasn't encouraged them. He's even allowed Jonah to spend time with Leyre; his heart got broken but that doesn't mean he's heartless. His baby brother developed a deep connection with Carlos’ daughter, and TK can't keep Jonah from one of his best friends.

Alone in his penthouse once again, TK grabs his guitar with trembling hands and resumes his playing. He's humming softly under his breath, pausing here and there to jot down some chords and annotations. He's so engrossed in his music that he almost misses the clicking of the door closing behind Jonahas he tiptoes into the apartment.

"T!" he greets joyfully. "You wouldn't believe what we learned at school today!"

He smiles broadly at his brother; Jonah is a daily reminder that Carlos is still part of TK’s life, albeit indirectly. TK pats the space beside him on the couch and braves through Jonah’s explanation of everything he's learned during the day. They're comfortably sitting when TK’s cell rings, startling them out of their calm world. He checks the caller ID; he frowns when he reads the name of the detective in charge of Enzo’s case — even though everything pointed to his death being accidental, since it happened abroad a whole team of investigators was set on the case. So far, they haven't had anything to report.

Until now, apparently.

"I need to take this, J," he softly apologizes. "How about you tell me more over dinner?"

"Pizza?" Jonah asks hopefully.

"Yeah," TK acquiesces. "Now, I need to pick it up." He waits until his brother has left the living room to actually take the call. "TK Strand."

"Mr. Strand," a warm voice greets him at the other side. "Detective Sanchez. I have news on Mr. Enzo Zimmer's death." She must sense TK’s hesitation, for she continues even more softly, "I would like to see you at the precinct, if that's okay with you. It's not bad news; well, at least not worse news, but I'd rather deliver it in person. I understand you're recovering from an accident, but I hope you can come here. Are you available tomorrow morning?"

"I—I will be there," he stammers before clearing his throat and repeating, more firmly, “I will be there. Should I bring something? Someone?”

“Not really,” Detective Sanchez says. “But you can come with someone, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” he finally grits out a few seconds before the call disconnects. Even though it’s been literally months since Enzo passed away in Japan, TK has been dreading this moment; he knew it would come, but he’s been fearing it as well. He knows Enzo had several enemies, what with having imprisoned half of the criminal population in New York City by himself, so he doesn’t know what to expect — all evidence pointed at it having been an accidental death, but TK’s aware the police don’t rule out any option until the very end of an investigation.

He's distressed the whole night; he isn't sure why he doesn't tell Jonah anything about his appointment at the precinct the next morning when they're having dinner together. TK listens to his brother babbling about his day at school once again; it's the last few days before it shuts down completely, and TK can tell that the shadow of the imminent dismantling of the school is taking its toll on Jonah. His words are stilted when he talks about what he's done, as if Carlos has run out of activities to keep the students' mind off the worry about the school.

The next day, after Marjan has thrown Jonah’s backpack on her shoulder and has stepped outside the penthouse with him, TK gets ready for his visit to the precinct. He informs Judd, who's the one in charge of babysitting him today. They have been taking turns to do that; since TK doesn't really need to step out of the house, Judd’s work has been reduced to almost none for now. He kills his time between taking care of his baby girl when Grace has a shift at the call center and taking care of TK.

"Well. This means closure," Judd tells him. "This way, you will learn what really happened." He grabs his coat from the rack by the door, and adds, "I'm coming with you," as a reply to TK’s confused glance.

"You don't need to—"

"I'm your bodyguard," Judd points out. "And your friend. Of course I'm coming with you."

TK sighs but says nothing. He braves the cold of the city as he walks the streets, Judd by his side. He keeps his head lowered, covered with a cap for disguise; the scarf around his neck covers half of his face as well, making it almost impossible to recognize him. Judd escorts him into the precinct, a few blocks from the penthouse.

"I'm TK Strand," he announces when they reach the front desk, where a bored-looking police officer perks up upon seeing them entering. "I've come to see Detective Sanchez."

"Of course, Mr. Strand," the police officer says cheerfully. "Detective Sanchez informed the front desk about your arrival. If you wait here for a moment, I will page her."

TK nods, turning around to sit on one of the chairs. Judd follows suit, sitting on the chair next to him and lifts one hand to his face. TK can read the tattoo there, Psalm 31. He remembers when Judd told him the story behind the tattoo — how it was God and Grace who saved him when he was younger, and how the tattoo was his small tribute. He's lost in his own thoughts, remembering every single appointment he's ever had at a tattoo parlor, relishing in the moments when his most sacred memories have been inked forever on his skin.

"Mr. Strand," a voice calls him. When he looks up, Detective Sanchez is standing in front of them. "Could you please follow me?"

TK jolts up to his feet, Judd hot on his trail, and together they follow Detective Sanchez through the precinct until they reach a small office with glass walls. It's a short and quick meeting, mainly to clear his doubts and soothe his soul. He leaves the precinct with the knowledge that Enzo’s death was, definitely, not related to his job as a prosecutor.

"Are you going to tell Jonah?" Judd asks. It doesn't sound like he's actually asking, though.

"Yeah, probably tonight during dinner," TK explains as they walk back to the penthouse. His breathing is heavy; he's made too much effort just by walking to the precinct. "I have to think about how to approach this. He's still so young, I want him to understand this."

"He'll understand it," Judd reassures him. "After all, it's closure, at least in a way. And it's not adding more trauma to the loss, for once."

TK has to agree. Learning that Enzo’s death was natural has lifted a heavy weight from his shoulders that he hadn't even noticed. He hopes it will help Jonah as well.

TK’s proven right when he tackles the subject during dinner later that night, over chicken tacos and a salad. "J," he begins, tentatively. "I went to the police station today."

"Why?" His brother looks up at him, his eyebrows shooting up and almost disappearing into his hairline.

"They called yesterday. They had news on your dad," TK continues. Jonah splutters as he tries to swallow the taco bite he was chewing. "Easy there, Jonah. It's nothing bad. Well, nothing worse than what it already is. They know for sure the real cause of your dad's—" He trails off, unsure as to how to treat this subject now that he's on it.

"Do they know what—what took him?"

TK smiles at the euphemism Jonah’s always used to refer to Enzo’s death. It's a coping mechanism, his therapist had explained to TK, a way to confront the problem without facing the worst side of it.

"They do," he says softly. "It was natural. Nobody did it. It was a heart attack," he continues. He leaves out that it had been caused, most probably, by the consumption of some dubious fish. Jonah doesn't ask. "I know you were nervous about this. I know you were scared. But nobody took your dad from you."

Jonah nods after a moment, eyes cast downwards once again, focused on his dinner. "It's good that we know now," he mumbles. "Can I go to my room, please?" he continues. He stands up without waiting for TK’s permission, leaving his taco half eaten on the plate.

TK sighs before he gathers everything and tidies up the living room. He washes the dishes and hangs the cloth on the rail where it belongs after he's done at the sink. He tiptoes his way to Jonah’s room after that; he wanted to give his brother some privacy before eavesdropping. When he approaches the door, the noise that comes from the inside doesn't surprise him. Jonah is crying loudly, the sobs that are surely wrecking him seeping through the thin walls. TK shakes his head but says nothing; he wants to respect his brother's need for solitude, but on the other hand he can't stand it when Jonah cries. When his mother was still alive, she had laughed at him, saying that Jonah had him wrapped around his pinkie. She wasn't wrong.

Carefully, he knocks on the door loud enough for the noise to be heard over the wails, and waits. After a beat, he hears Jonah’s choked up, "I'm fine!"

"You sure?" TK says back, leaning onto the door. "I'm here for you, Jonah."

"I—" His brother gasps for air, a tell-tale sign that he's on the verge of a panic attack. But TK doesn't want to barge in; he will, if he needs to, but his motto has always been to respect others. "I could use a hug."

That's all TK needs to be set into motion. He opens the door and peeks inside; Jonah is sitting on his bed, arms wrapped around his legs, face hidden in the crook between his knees. His whole body is trembling as he cries. TK sits on the edge of the bed and waits for Jonah to look up as the mattress dips under his weight. When his brother acknowledges his presence, TK envelopes him in a tight hug and allows Jonah’s tears to soak his shirt. He can understand what his brother's going through but Jonah has just now been told that the door on his father’s life has been definitely slammed shut. It's not that any investigation would bring Enzo back, TK is aware of that; but the notion of it having been a natural cause is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because they know; a curse because there's nobody to blame.

If TK’s feeling conflicted about this, he can only imagine how confused his eleven-year-old brother must be.

They fall asleep together on Jonah’s bed; TK wakes up to a crick in his neck and a knot in his back, but he doesn't complain. Jonah’s wrapped around him like a koala, and that's all TK will ever need. His mind treacherously supplies images of waking up on other mornings with a different body wrapped around him; they’re moments where he’d been happy, waking up in Carlos’ arms whenever either of them spent the night, Jonah and Leyre barrelling into the room at the crack of dawn on almost every weekend to ask for pancakes for breakfast and a trip to the zoo or Central Park or wherever their curious minds wanted to visit.

TK misses the domesticity that came with being part of Carlos’ life, with letting Carlos be part of his life.

The longing, the yearning, that comes with the memories is enough for TK to realize two things at once. He wants to fight for what once was; he wants to ask Carlos for forgiveness for how he behaved.

But to do so, he also needs to work hard on himself if he ever wants a chance at wooing Carlos back into love with him.

Even though his mind has been talking him out of fighting for Carlos, TK knows that is what he wants to do. He wanted to right all the wrongs back after performing his song for Carlos on stage, but back then he had allowed his insecurities to keep him from following his heart. But now he isn’t going to let his mind win over his heart.

He wants to win Carlos back.

That gives him a purpose like he hasn’t had in a long time, a sense of direction along with taking care of Jonah the best he can. TK works even harder and on even more songs, knowing full well that they’re the only language he speaks that doesn’t get muddled with anxiety or stammering — the only language he’s fluent in without any risk of miscommunication. He asks Paul and Marjan for help, earning a few chuckles and a lot of playful judgment before they agree to discreetly find out if Carlos would be amenable for a reconciliation. TK doesn’t want to overstep; as much as he wants Carlos back in his life, in any capacity, he’s also aware that he hurt Carlos badly. He wouldn’t want to impose, no matter how much he wishes he could mend what he broke the day he stormed out of Carlos’ life.

“All I’ve been able to find out is that he’s leaving town,” Marjan announces on the day TK is supposed to be on the Jesse Corbett show. “No word on when though. I don't really want to push. Tommy is being secretive about everything.”

“And Nancy and Mateo?” TK asks as Paul follows Marjan’s steps and flops down on the couch. “They’re Carlos’ best friends as well. And I know you guys keep meeting up for double dates or whatever you call it these days.”

Paul has the decency to blush, something that TK almost misses in the dim light of the living room. “They’re not double dates,” he says. “And Nancy and Mateo are usually too busy making out to come anyway.”

TK groans. “Short of standing outside his door with a giant sign, I’ve tried everything to reach him!” he exclaims.

“Everything?” Marjan quirks an eyebrow at him. “Have you tried calling him?” TK frowns at her but shakes his head. “Have you sent him a heartfelt letter, then?” TK splutters. “Oh, I know. Nobody sends letters anymore, it’s tragic. But, if you haven’t tried those, what have you done?”

“I’ve tried, very subtly, to—you know what, I don’t have to give you any explanation,” he huffs indignantly as he checks himself in the mirror once more.

“That’s code for I’ve done nothing but mope for the past few weeks,” Paul stage-whispers, loud enough to elicit a snort from Marjan. TK tries to ignore them, but it’s so difficult not to pay attention to what they’re doing.

“Listen, I’ve written him a song,” he finally says, turning from the mirror in the foyer and facing them.

“We know,” Marjan quips. “You’re singing it tonight for the first time live. The duet with Ricky freaking Martin.”

“No, not that one,” TK clarifies. “I’ve written him another song. I’ve written him an entire album,” he confesses. “But it’s so different from what the label wants me to do, I’m not sure I will ever be able to record it.”

“How come you’ve never told us about this?” Paul asks, sitting up on the couch. “What are we talking about, six, seven songs? An EP?”

“No, I’m talking about a whole album.” TK pulls at his hair nervously, disheveling his styled fringe. "A whole bunch of songs about heartbreak and not being able to move on, about undying love and forevermore."

"I find that deeply disturbing," Marjan says. "But I want to listen to the songs."

TK shrugs. He figured that, once he told them about the songs, they'd want to listen to them. He can almost hear Marjan telling him to fight for the album if that's what he wants; Paul would only pat his arm and say that he'd be there for TK whatever he chooses to do. The truth is that TK knows, deep down, that the songs are good enough to make it to an album; but he also knows they're not the beat the label has branded him with.

"I have a few demos recorded," he tells them. "Shitty quality, since they're on my phone, but still." He's about to add something when the buzzer shrills, interrupting him. "That must be Judd. I have to go now."

"Have fun!"

TK loves performing, but he hates everything else that comes along with live TV shows. Having to be on set for several hours before the show even starts is excruciating for him. At least this time he's not sharing the dressing room and makeup team with Alex; this time it's Ricky next to him. They had already recorded the song they're performing tonight before his accident, but with his recovery they haven't had time to rehearse. This will be the first time for both of them with this version of Ricky Martin's hit, and TK is nervous.

"Hey," Ricky says, leaning forward and resting his weight on his elbows on the counter they're sharing. "It will go smoothly. I promise."

"I'm not that much worried about the performance," TK confesses. "It's more about who will be tuning in."

Ricky shoots him a sympathetic smile. "Do you think he will be listening?"

"I sure hope so."

"There's still no reason to be nervous, TK. You poured your soul into this song, and the adaptation is flawless. If he's listening, he's going to love it."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then you'll have your answer." At TK’s confused frown, Ricky chuckles. "This song is a question. It was a question thrown at a former lover of mine in its Spanish version. It's now a question you're throwing into the wind. Either way, you'll have an answer."

The show passes in a blur of light and sound. One minute he's answering Jesse's questions about his inspiration in music — he thinks he babbles about the Beatles and Bob Dylan at a point, but he could also have talked about Carole King and even Ed Sheeran, and he's sure he mentions Kurt Cobain, Adam Duritz, Anthony Kiedis and Kelly Clarkson; no doubt that's why Jesse Corbett looks so flabbergasted — and the next he's looking straight at the camera with the red light on and declaring for the whole world to listen, and specifically for one Carlos Reyes, just in case, that Alex Fletcher is nothing more than a memory, a distant shadow in a past he's more than eager to forget about.

The performance goes smoothly. TK takes out his guitar, no sign left of his tremors, and pours everything he feels into the song. It's so powerful, so exhilarating and yet so exhausting, that he ends up looking down, head too heavy for his neck to keep up, as the audience's ovation rings in his ears. As they make their way off of the stage, Ricky squeezes his shoulder and whispers, "I'm so proud of you, TK," and it's more than TK thinks he deserves.

There's no message waiting for him in the answering machine when he gets back home, only Jonah’s smile and Buttercup's greeting barks as he opens the door. Paul and Marjan are there as well; when he enters the living room, Judd in tow, they both stand up and hug him. "That was one hell of a performance," Marjan exclaims, hugging him tight. "I knew the song was powerful. But it was amazing!"

"We've also listened to your demos," Paul adds, joining in the hug as Jonah holds onto TK’s hand. "The label would be crazy not to record it."

"You know them," TK retaliates. "They just want what sells. I'm just another—product."

"We'll fight them," Paul states. "We'll do it together."

They don't get to meet with the label's execs until a few weeks later. TK’s swamped with work — the promotion of the song that's now out and almost more interviews than he can handle keep him busy. The work stress combined with Jonah’s first days at the new school prove to be too much for him after his stunt in the ice; TK feels like he can't keep up with everything. Every night he dives deep down into his bed and promptly passes out, sometimes even in his jeans and hoodie.

Finding a new school for Jonah, even as short-notice as he started searching, turns out to be easier than he thought, if he knocked on the correct doors and offered the correct amount of money. It makes his stomach churn with contempt; this is exactly what they were fighting with the fundraiser so many months ago, they were trying to secure affordable education for every child out there. He doesn't know how other parents have managed; Jonah didn't have many friends at school before, and the ones he had have since moved out of town. TK pried the information out of Jonah, after much coaching and even a bargain of ice cream. Carlos and Leyre, Tommy and the twins, Nancy and Mateo — they're all back home down in Austin. He's still trying to make peace with the fact that he ruined the best thing he's ever had, but he's slowly getting there. Working on his new songs helps some, even though they're all inspired by the love he had and lost.

The day of the meeting with the execs, everything seems to be set against him. Jonah is running late for school. Paul and Marjan are caught up in New York's morning traffic, and Judd can't come earlier because Charlie's had the worst night ever and he's taking his baby girl to the doctor. TK should have taken that as a sign that he shouldn't even get out of bed. But he does; he showers and prepares breakfast for Jonah, and rushes him to the bus stop where his school bus will be picking him up. The sky is gray and cloudy, a few droplets of rain tapping on the ground as they walk at a brisk pace.

"I hope it doesn't start pouring," TK jokes. "I haven't brought an umbrella."

"Even the sky's sad," Jonah mumbles. When TK nudges at him to prompt him to explain, his brother shrugs. "Everything's sad lately, T. New York is sad without them," he adds. "You know, without Leyre and Mr. Re—Carlos."

TK feels his heart clenching in his chest. It hurts him to know that Jonah is going through so much loss and abandonment; knowing he is the cause of part of his brother's grief always puts his own feelings into perspective. "I'm sorry, Jonah. I promise I will make it right."

Jonah seems about to say something, but he's cut off by the yellow bus pulling up next to them. "Will you be here when I come back?" Jonah asks as the doors open.

"My meeting will have ended way before you're here," TK reassures him. "I'll be here, and when you come back we can go have pancakes for dinner."

Jonah smiles at him, even though the warmth doesn't reach his eyes, and hops on the bus, leaving TK alone. He rushes underneath the building's marquee as the rain starts falling more heavily. He checks his smartwatch at the same time as it begins vibrating with an incoming FaceTime call. He frowns; it's his father, and Owen Strand doesn't usually call this early in the morning.

"Dad?" he answers the call with worry. "Everything alright?" He takes in his father’s pale face — he blames it on the faint light filtering through the blinds and reflecting on his father’s features — and the slight tremor in the corner of his eyes. "It's like, the middle of the night there, isn't it?"

"Hi, son," his father greets. "Yeah, it's a bit early, but I've just gotten off shift."

"I thought you'd said you'd apply for a desk job," TK chides him. "Like, Fire Chief or something like that. A promotion, you said."

"Well, I might be forced to take it," his father says slowly. "I love working the scenes, but—"

"What do you mean, you'll be forced?" TK purses his lips. "Have you had any more anger issues? Remember that your therapist said—"

"Right before I started my shift," his father cuts him off, "I went to see my oncologist."

TK blinks at those words. He thought his father was done with his oncologist's appointments when he was declared free of cancer ten years ago. He says so much, and cringes when his father hesitates. "Dad?"

"They saw a—a shadow," his father explains. "They wanted to do a biopsy. I went yesterday to check the results."

"And?" TK is about to crawl out of his skin.

"They're not conclusive," his father tells him. "They need to do more tests. I'll be keeping you updated."

TK nods his assent but his mind is elsewhere. Around twelve years ago, when his father had first been diagnosed with lung cancer, he'd hidden the fact from TK because deep inside, Owen Strand believed that his son was weak and the news of him being sick would send TK on a spiral of self-destruction. It took him two years of chemo and appointments to recover his health.

TK’s terrified of the implications of the cancer having come back. "I can't do this again," he mutters. Louder, he says, "I'll check flights, I’ll be there as soon as possible."

"It'll be nothing," his father says in a soothing tone. "And you'll be in New York, I don’t need you hovering around me. Take care of Jonah; the kid has school."

"But I can't lose another parent!" TK bursts out all of a sudden. Some people who have been walking down the street in the rain stare up at him. "Not now!"

"Well, that is not something either one of us are gonna have a say in, TK," his father states. "No one's guaranteed anything. So we need to live in the moment. Be happy. Enjoy life to the fullest. And your life is settled in New York. Your job, your brother—everything's up there."

"Not everything," TK mumbles as he feels his eyes welling up.

"I'll be fine. I promise. Just remember to breathe and live in the moment, TK. 'Cause that's all any of us have."

TK hangs up with the distinct feeling that somethings going to change in his life. He makes it back to the penthouse, where Paul and Marjan are already, having survived the traffic, but also Judd and Grace with Charlie. Paul stands up just as TK is closing the door behind him.

"Hey, man," he greets before taking in his ashen face. "What's up?"

"I just talked to my father," TK says aloud, his voice on the verge of breaking. When he sees Judd flinching, he frowns. "You knew, didn't you?" Judd sighs. "He told you before he told me, just like the first time around."

"And like that first time, I told him to tell you," Judd says. "Seems this time he followed my advice."

"Something happened to your father?" Marjan asks. She sounds as confused as she looks as she twirls her fingers in the fabric of her hijab.

"They don't know if the cancer's back," TK explains. "I don't know if I should postpone the meeting with the label. I feel like I can't focus."

"You go," Grace tells him with a soft, motherly smile. "We'll be here when you guys come back."

TK makes his way to where she's sitting, rocking Charlie, and hugs her. He's always had a special connection with Grace; her witt and her wisdom have kept Judd — and TK — out of trouble for over a decade. TK’s grateful for having her in his life. When his father introduced him to his friend Judd, who'd been a firefighter until his whole house perished in an explosion leaving him unable to work as a firefighter ever again, TK hadn't been so sure.

Now he knows he wouldn't have survived so long without any of them.

He carefully brushes Charlie’s hair and asks what the doctor said, but once Grace reassures him that it’s just a little cold and will be fine in a few days, TK takes a deep breath and turns to the others.

"Let's go," Paul urges him. "I'll be with you the whole time. And I'll back you on whatever you decide."

The meeting isn't bad in itself, but it doesn't go smoothly. TK is distracted most of the time, mind flying down to Austin every now and then. He only lands abruptly back on Earth when one of the execs says that he's supposed to sign a contract for another duet album — with Alex of all people. And another dance-pop album as well. "Not that nonsense," the man continues, pointing to where TK’s phone with the demos is resting while TK’s mind is still stuck on the fact that they want him back with Alex. "You can't veer away from your brand now."

His father’s words echo in his mind, breathe and live in the moment, breathe and live, breatheandlive.

The screech of the chair sliding across the floor is loud as he stands up. "Enough," he says, barely holding onto his calm. “It’s my career. And more so, it’s my life. I get to have a say!”

“Well, you have a contract—” one of the execs tries, but Paul shares a look with TK and intervenes.

“Technically, the contract is up now,” he says in a professional voice that leaves no room for interpretation. “That’s why we are here, to renegotiate the terms and conditions.”

“Well then,” the same exec retaliates. “Our offer is to keep the same conditions, add a duet album and record what we think can be a hit. If you’re not willing to meet those particular conditions, there’s not much we can do.”

TK blinks. His mind is running a mile a minute; if he’s understanding correctly, the label doesn’t want to even hear what he has to say. They’re all about making money, which TK can totally get, but they want to do it on their terms, which TK doesn’t endorse. He’s always thought that his career should be in his hands, and maybe this meeting is just the nudge he needed in the right direction. Especially when the other option would be singing more songs with Alex — something he never wants to do again.

“I think I need time to think,” he says carefully, imbuing his words with as much meaning as he can. “I’m taking a few weeks off. I’ll let you know my decision once I have one.” He doesn’t give them time to react; TK pushes his chair further back and flees the room with as much dignity as he can muster. Paul follows him, and they leave the spluttering execs behind.

“That was a total diva move,” Paul tells him once they step out onto the street. “What were you thinking? Don’t get me wrong, I fully support you,” he adds when TK glares at him. “I think it was high time you did this. But what made you change your mind?”

“I think I’ve—” TK stops in the middle of the street, causing some suited-up men to stop and go around them while mumbling complaints. “I’ve had enough. I want to be the one making decisions about my life. I don’t know exactly what I want, but I know what I don’t want. And I don’t want another album focused on songs that don’t reflect who I am.”

“So, what now?”

TK looks up at the sky; it’s stopped raining and now there are no clouds, just a clear and vibrant blue. He smiles. “What do you say about some days off? I need to talk to Jonah and figure out some things, but I think I should spend a few days with my dad in Austin.”

Paul pats him on the back. “I think it’s a good idea, man. But what do you mean, days off?”

“I’m not expecting you to follow me all the way down to Austin for an indefinite amount of time,” TK tells him.

“That’s up for us to decide, TK,” Paul tells him. “Spoiler alert, though.” He chuckles. “We had a bet running about when you’d snap at the label. I’ve never been happier to lose, you know. Maybe our time off can also be down in Austin. You’ll need help if you want to take care of everything.”

“So we’re doing this?”

“We’re doing this.”

For the first time in what feels like years, TK is able to breathe.

* ~ * ~ *

Carlos huffs as he steps onto the street. It's the fourth house in a row that he's visited while Leyre is at school, in an attempt to show his daughter only the best options, and it's the fourth house in a row that he discards even before finishing the tour of the first floor. They've been house hunting for almost three months now; the school year is almost over, and Carlos can’t seem to find a suitable housing solution for them.

Even though in the beginning he'd thought he'd homeschool Leyre and the twins once they got to Austin for the remainder of the school year, Carlos had eventually agreed with Tommy that the girls needed the routine a school provided; they'd contacted Zoe to ask for help finding a school for the three girls so late in the year. It turned out, much to Carlos' surprise, that things worked a little bit different in Texas, and Zoe had been able to offer them room for Leyre, Izzie and Evie at one of the schools closest to Carlos' old turf — the precinct where Fire Station 126 was also located. Call it good or bad luck, Carlos had taken it as a sign. The girls would be transferring to the new school coming the new year, but for now it was definitely a sign — Carlos should have never agreed to that; he should have stuck with his original idea of homeschooling Leyre.

Tommy had started helping Captain Strand at the 126 as a medical consultant while they waited for the new school year to begin. Carlos, on the other hand, was still jobless until August; it gave him a lot of free time to search for the perfect place.

In those roughly twelve weeks ever since they arrived in his old stomping grounds, Carlos hasn't had an ounce of luck in that regard.

There wasn't a house that didn't have a flaw; be it creaking floors or a stairway too steep for them or, in one glorious case, a hideous backyard like Leyre had pointed out. It felt as though his daughter was nitpicking for imperfections, as crazy and small as imaginable, to reject every option. Carlos himself hadn't liked any of those either, but they needed a house. Living with his parents when he'd been fresh out of college had been one thing; doing it now with his preteen daughter isn't exactly how he'd pictured himself on the verge of thirty-seven.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. "Shit," he curses under his breath. "And now I'm late."

He was supposed to be picking Leyre up at school, but he's been so engrossed in visiting yet another house he wouldn't even consider renting or buying that time has flown by. He dials Tommy and puts the device to his ear as the phone rings.

"Carlos!" she greets enthusiastically when she picks up. "Late again?"

"What gave me away?" he pants as he rushes to cross the street in between the passing cars.

"Well," Tommy laughs. "The fact that Leyre came to the station with the twins again. They're doing their homework in the Captain's office."

"I'll be there in—" He checks his watch and groans. "—about thirty? I'm literally across town."

"Don't rush," Tommy advises. "I still have a few hours left here. We will wait for you." Then, after a beat, she adds, "I heard you were house hunting. Any luck?"

Carlos shakes his head before realizing this isn't a FaceTime call. "No. Every house I've visited has something that makes it unsuitable. Leyre would just pick them apart again."

"Maybe they're all lacking something," Tommy retaliates wistfully. "But maybe it isn't a physical trait."

He already knows what she means; he's been thinking about that for the longest time. He's even reached a conclusion, but since it's something he doesn't particularly like, he was quick to dismiss it. But it's exactly the same reason why Leyre keeps shooting down all the houses as well.

When Carlos had envisioned himself on the brink of forty, he'd seen a family around him — Leyre as a beautiful, smart teenager, maybe a dog, his parents visiting from time to time, and a husband. He would have settled for a boyfriend. And since meeting TK and falling for him, the ideal image of the white picket fence in Carlos' life had morphed into a very specific dream. Carlos had seen himself sharing that space with Buttercup and his loud whines when he wanted treats. He'd seen Jonah working on Algebra on a tall stool in an open-concept kitchen. He'd seen friends coming and going, late nights playing board games, Saturday afternoons babysitting Charlie and taking care of the twins. He'd looked forward to falling into bed exhausted and blindly searching for his significant other to hold him.

In every single iteration of the dream, it had been TK’s hand squeezing his, and TK’s arms holding him, and TK’s voice soothing the creases in his soul. Sometimes, Carlos had even allowed himself to dream of a baby's cries and marking the wall with heights and placing drawings under a magnet on the fridge.

The moment he allowed TK to leave without offering an explanation, without chasing after him, Carlos knew his dream would never come true.

He muses over everything he's lost as he punches his password onto the screen and hires an Uber. It's the fastest way to cross the city now that he's given up on driving the Camaro his father's kept in mint condition for the past ten years. Carlos loves his sports car, but he's stopped driving it whenever Leyre needs to get in the car as well; it's definitely not a car made for children.

When he arrives at the station, he breathes deeply and steps into the building with his best fake smile. Every time he enters Captain Strand's realm, he feels like he's intruding in a part of TK’s life. It feels as though he can't escape the truth — he let go of the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with because he was petrified by fear. Stepping into the station and reading the name on the plaque on the wall upstairs, where Leyre usually does her homework, is always a stark reminder of what he will never have again.

Tommy is waiting for him in the truck bay. He takes in the distressed way in which she wrings her hands in front of her; he speeds up. Something's definitely not right, but before he can even greet his friend he's attacked by a giant, slobbering beast that makes him tumble down to the ground as he ends up covered in wet licks and happy barks.

"Buttercup?" he asks more than says, a whisper barely audible over the dog's happy sounds. "What—"

"That's what I wanted to tell you," Tommy says. "I just didn't know how." As Carlos fights Buttercup so he can stand up, Tommy continues, "I just found out, Carlos. But apparently TK’s visiting Owen."

Carlos stops fidgeting underneath Buttercup, who takes his sudden stillness as a sign of surrender. He slobbers over Carlos' face, leaving a track of saliva that Carlos knows from experience will be very difficult to wash away. "Buttercup, stop!" he commands. The dog, probably surprised by the change in his voice, takes his paws off his chest, leaving enough room for Carlos to wriggle out of his grip and stand up. "Tommy?"

"I didn't know," she promises, looking him dead in the eye. "I came here as always, and the shift was going smoothly. The girls came after school, and I realized you must be running late. I sent them upstairs and then they were here."

"They?" Carlos asks dumbly. His mind supplies to him the fact that TK’s now taking care of his little brother, so the plural must apply to Jonah as well.

"Jonah," Tommy confirms. "But apparently the whole gang is here from what I've gathered. Grace and Judd, Paul and Marjan—"

"Are you seriously telling me that Grace and Judd were planning to spend some time in Austin and they forgot to tell you?" Carlos snaps. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Sorry. That was uncalled for. I knew this could happen; being so close to where his father works. We're adults," he goes on, squaring his shoulders. "I can see him. It's been months. I know when to stop mourning something that wasn't meant to be. You know, if it's not meant to be—"

"—it's not meant to be," Tommy finishes his sentence. "It's okay if you're not ready to see him, Carlos. Nobody would ever judge you."

Before Carlos can retaliate, the choice of crossing paths with TK is taken from his hands as they both hear quick steps and TK’s voice calling Buttercup. "Where are you, you little dev—Carlos?"

He unsuccessfully tries to straighten the wrinkles that Buttercup's love attack has left on his shirt. "TK," he greets, aiming for nonchalant but sounding every bit as awkward to his own ears.

"It's, uh," TK continues, his green eyes boring holes into Carlos' soul. "It's good to see you. You're, ah, you look good."

Carlos doesn't know what to reply. He's dying to tell TK that he looks good too, great even, but the words get stuck in his throat. "It's good to see you, too," he settles for in the end.

"We're—" TK hesitates. The glance he shares with Tommy isn't lost on Carlos; he will have a word or two with his friend later, but right now he's too mesmerized by the musicality of TK’s voice. He mentally kicks himself; he should be over TK by now, not hanging onto every word he says. After all, TK left with good reason; Carlos gave it to him. "We're visiting my father," TK goes on. "I didn't know you would come here today, but Jonah’s been thrilled to see Leyre. I hope—I hope it's okay that I left them to catch up."

Carlos nods. Even right after the breakup, when feelings were raw and there still were tears left to cry, he'd never stopped his daughter from spending time with Jonah. Both kids have forged a bond Carlos is proud of; he's only ashamed of himself for letting his own issues affect his daughter's life when he'd sworn they wouldn't. "Are you—are you guys going to stay in Austin for a while?" TK seems taken aback by the question, but he nods his assent. "Maybe we could—I don't know, set up a playdate for them?" Carlos cringes at his words. Next to him, Tommy snorts. "I know it's not called a playdate at their age, Tommy," he chides her. He's speaking too much, and the words are coming out jumbled. "But I think Leyre and the twins would love to see more of Jonah while you're in town. That's all."

"I think Jonah would love that," TK says in an even voice. "Now, I think it's time for this little mister here" — he gestures towards Buttercup, still waving his tail happily by Carlos' side — "to go upstairs. You can't go bothering people, Buttercup!" TK gently grabs the dog by the collar and peels him away from Carlos. "It's good to see you, Carlos," he says as farewell. Carlos can tell he's being sincere; they might have dated only for a few months, but Carlos had come to know TK better than he knows himself. "I hope we—Have a nice day."

And with that, he's gone, tugging at Buttercup to follow him. Carlos stares longingly as he retreats.

"Well, it wasn't that bad," Tommy says. Her voice is tinged with amusement.

Carlos huffs. "That was a disaster," he states. "We lived in the same city for months and we didn’t even cross paths.”

“Austin is smaller than New York City,” Tommy tries to make him see reason. “Also, you’re hanging around his father’s station. And your own father is best friends with TK’s father. This was bound to happen whenever TK came to visit.”

Carlos is aware that she’s being reasonable, but he hates knowing that she’s right. “Well, this was just a one-time occurrence,” he tells his friend. “I don’t have to cross paths with him ever again. Soon enough he’ll be out of town.”

“You’ve literally just agreed to set up a playdate for the kids,” Nancy says, appearing out of nowhere and startling Carlos. “You’ll have to see him at least once, dude.”

“What the heck, Nancy?” Carlos exclaims, taking a step backward and almost losing his balance. “Where did you come from?”

“Been here the entire time,” she says matter-of-factly. “You were just so engrossed fawning over TK Strand.”

Carlos scoffs. “I wasn’t fawning. I was just trying not to look like a complete idiot.”

“Great job, then,” Nancy teases him. “I doubt he thinks you’re an idiot. I guess he knows now.”

“Nancy,” Tommy says in a warning tone. “I still have a few hours left here,” she continues, addressing Carlos with a nudge. “Could you please take the girls home?”

“Of course,” Carlos acquiesces. “I’ll just go upstairs and—” He trails off when he realizes that, by following his own words, he’ll end up running into TK once again. “Dammit.”

“Want me to go fetch the girls?” Nancy offers. “Maybe I can talk to the hotshot singer up there.” She doesn’t wait for anyone to tell her that she can; she takes the stairs two at a time and quickly disappears. Carlos stares at the blank spot where TK and Buttercup were a few minutes before, and sighs.

“It’s sad, you know?” he muses aloud. “When someone you know becomes someone you knew.”

“Do you feel like you don’t know TK anymore?” Tommy questions. She places her hand on Carlos’ arm and squeezes it reassuringly. “I know it’s a long shot, but I’ve seen you, Carlos. I’ve seen you these past few months. Maybe this is what you need. Maybe talking to him, getting closure, maybe that will help. God knows I’d love to have just one last minute with Charles.”

Carlos shrugs. “I got all the closure I needed back when everything happened,” he says stubbornly, all discomfort from before squashed down in the bottom of his soul, features schooled in the serious face that he’s mastered over the years. “I just need to accept that some people can only be in my heart, not in my life,” he mutters. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so—” Tommy begins, only to be cut off by the stomping of feet against the stairs and the three girls running wildly downstairs followed by Nancy, who seems unperturbed. “What have we said about running in the station?”

“But this is so exciting, Mom!” Evie exclaims. She looks back at her twin and Leyre, and the three of them share a nod. “You wouldn’t believe the news we just got!”

“Aside from Jonah being here! In Austin!” Izzie continues.

“Have you seen him, Papi?” Leyre questions. Carlos shakes his head, watching as his daughter’s face falls. “Can I go tell him to come down?” Before Carlos can say anything, Leyre is climbing the stairs once again, yelling, “Jonah! My dad is here!” She hasn’t even made it halfway up when Jonah shows up at the top of the stairs, followed by TK and Buttercup.

“Wait, Jonah!”

“C’mon,” Leyre says, ignoring TK as the singer tries to stop them. “I’m sure you want to hug my dad.”

They both make it back down the stairs to a petrified Carlos. Jonah looks up at him with his clear eyes, and Carlos could swear the kid has grown at least three inches since he last saw him, so many weeks before — when he’d been worried sick about his brother being in a coma. Jonah smiles shyly. “Mr. Reyes—”

“Carlos,” he corrects automatically. His heart swells when Jonah’s smile grows wider. “I thought we were past that, weren’t we?”

Jonah nods and lunges forward until his arms are around Carlos’ waist. Carlos retaliates immediately, hugging Jonah back and holding him close to his chest. His soul is soaring right now, feeding off the love he’s so clearly been missing — he’s got Leyre and he’s got his friends and his family, but he’s been lacking a part of himself that lights up whenever Jonah and TK are around.

“I’ve missed you, Carlos.”

“I’ve missed you too, kid. But now you’re here,” Carlos says affectionately. “What do you say, before you go back to New York, we find a moment for you to spend the afternoon with the girls?” he offers. “Maybe at a bowling alley or—”

“But that’s the best of it all!” Leyre interrupts. Carlos is about to chide her, since she knows that she isn’t supposed to cut off anyone when they’re talking, but he can feel her excitement as she adds, “Jonah will be going to our school!”

“To your school?” he repeats dumbly. He looks over Jonah’s head, searching for Tommy's gaze, but his friend looks as lost as he feels. “To the school you’re attending now?”

“Yes!” Leyre almost shouts. “But not just that! Guess what? He’ll be coming to our new school next year, too!”

“We’re, uh,” TK explains as he walks downstairs. “We’re staying indefinitely,” he goes on. “I guess we’ll be seeing each other more than you anticipated, then.” When nobody says anything — Carlos because he’s way too stunned to even think, and he can’t fathom why Nancy, the guru of always having the best reply, and Tommy, the mom friend of them all, aren’t saying anything either — TK shrugs. “C’mon, Jonah. Carlos needs to take Leyre back home. You’ll see them around, I promise. C’mon.”

Jonah withdraws from Carlos’ embrace with a frustrated groan. He says goodbye to them; Leyre reminds him that they’ll see each other at recess the next day, and he drags himself toward his brother. Once he’s next to him, TK throws a protective arm around Jonah’s shoulders as he tugs him forward. “But will we be a family once again?” is the last that Carlos hears Jonah say as both brothers make it upstairs.

Carlos exchanges a pained look with Tommy, who offers him a sympathetic smile, and with Nancy, who retaliates with a knowing glance. He doesn’t say anything else; he grabs Leyre’s backpack and hangs it from his shoulder before picking up the twins’ backpacks as well and guiding them outside. They wait for their Uber in silence; Carlos has a lot of things to think about now that his life has, once again, changed because of TK Strand.

Over the next few days, they see each other at school whenever they drop off or pick up the kids. Carlos would have loved for TK to avoid him the same way he had done back in New York, when he would wait for Jonah around the corner of the street while Carlos bided his time in his classroom to make sure not a single parent — and, more specifically, TK — would be around by the time he came out of the building. But in Austin, things are different; TK seems different. Carlos has noticed the way his shoulders are less slumped forward, as if he’s gotten rid of the weight that crushed him before. Even as some mothers recognize him and demand a picture or an autograph or for him to sing some of his songs, TK seems to flawlessly wade through life as if he belongs in Austin.

And, through it all, TK always finds a way to acknowledge him; greeting him right before the doors open and the kids burst out wildly, waving at him as he walks away with Jonah. Day after day, TK doesn’t fail to surprise Carlos; it’s in the way he talks to the rest of the parents and in the way he still hugs Jonah as though he’s the only person left on Earth. Carlos can see the TK he loved shining through the armor the singer has had to build for himself — Carlos had never been subjected to that persona TK put up for the media and the fans, which is why it hurt so much to watch TK become a shell of the man Carlos loved after their breakup.

Jonah and Leyre help them as well. The kids have taken to getting out of school together despite not being in the same grade; it looks like they wait for each other in the corridors to step outside in sync. One Friday, both TK and Carlos are standing in the sunny street, orbiting around each other — Carlos is very much aware of his tendency to just be in TK’s vicinity, and TK always seems to float around him too — when Jonah comes out of the school tugging Leyre. The twins follow suit, bidding their farewell before they even step outside the school grounds. They wave at Carlos and TK before rushing in the opposite direction; Carlos knows Tommy is working a full shift at the station as she told him that her daughters would go there after school today. He hadn’t thought much of it until now, but as he watches Izzie and Evie lean conspiratorially into Leyre’s personal space to whisper something into his daughter’s ear, he begins to think that something’s up.

Carlos can feel TK’s gaze on him as Jonah and Leyre talk excitedly about their school projects while walking together away from the school. Usually, TK and Jonah take an Uber while Carlos and Leyre take another, but today Carlos brought his father’s truck because he’s got some errands to run in town. In the few weeks since learning that TK was in Austin for good, Carlos has abandoned all pretense of trying to find a suitable house. The presence of the Strand-Zimmer family back in his life has made him realize that he was trying to get out of his parents’ hair for all the wrong reasons. He grew up on the ranch, and it was good for him. So maybe he could give that to his daughter as well; he’d talked to his parents, and they’d all agreed that Carlos and Leyre could move to the old foreman’s house now that the ranch didn’t have any more help than that coming from the family. Carlos has been working on the house for weeks on end while he gets his lessons ready for the new school year.

“Papi, you’ve taken the truck today,” Leyre says in a chirping voice as they stop in front of the car. “I didn’t know!”

Carlos glares at her. He thinks he should tell her that she’s an awful liar, but he loves that particular trait about his daughter. “I had to do some things,” he begins to explain. “Do you need a ride anywhere?” he offers to TK when the silence grows almost unbearable.

He doesn’t miss the exchange of knowing glances between Jonah and Leyre, but his attention is caught by the nervous way in which TK shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Actually,” he begins, “there’s a great tea house just around the corner. I thought that, since it’s Friday, well—if you have the time, that is. I don’t want to, uh, you know, if you’re busy or—”

Leyre tugs at his sleeve. “Papi,” she says, saving TK from dying from embarrassment. “Can we go? I’d love to try a new tea Jonah’s talked to me about.”

“It’s amazing, you’ll see!” Jonah pipes in.

Carlos ponders whether or not it’s advisable for them to go on this sort-of, not-really-defined date with TK and Jonah. He remembers he promised Leyre a playdate with Jonah and never went through with it; although the twins aren’t present, Carlos feels he owes his daughter that much.

“We can go,” he tells her. Then, looking up at TK, he smiles. “Thanks for offering. Please, lead the way.”

They actually have a nice time together for a change. In the beginning, Carlos doesn’t know what to do with himself, too busy hiding how nervous he is to be on a sort-of, not-really-defined date with TK, but once the initial awkwardness is dissolved and Leyre and Jonah are laughing together as they blow into their tea mugs, the whole situation reminds Carlos of how much he’s actually missed spending time with TK.

It’s hard for him to accept that he’s been only surviving, not really living, all these months. He hadn’t even been aware of it once he’d accepted that he wouldn’t be close to TK ever again, but he’d been just threading through life. TK’s crystal laughter is a stark reminder of what happiness sounds like. At some point, in between Jonah retelling his day at school and Leyre making a mess of her boba tea, Carlos catches TK staring at him intently. Carlos is wiping some tea stains out of his shirt after Leyre snorted half her drink on him, but he’s running out of napkins. Without really thinking, he stretches out his hand and TK places a new paper napkin in between Carlos’ fingers as he makes sure Jonah doesn’t spill his tea too.

The brief moment when their skin touch is both glorious and torture to Carlos.

Leyre and Jonah, who have been snickering the whole time, sober up immediately as Carlos finishes cleaning his shirt and looks up to meet TK’s grin.

“Boba tea crisis avoided,” TK says, before his grin turns into a pensive stare.

“What are you thinking about?” Carlos dares to ask after a beat.

TK smiles softly. “I’m thinking—we make a pretty good team.”

Carlos is taken aback by the force with which TK’s eyes are boring holes into his head. “We really do, don’t we?” he replies, subdued.

There’s a beat; Carlos can hear Leyre holding her breath and Jonah muttering something under his breath, before TK seems to shake himself out of whatever reverie he’s been in, and says, “Afraid so.”

The spell is broken by the waiter coming to their table with more napkins and the check that TK had asked for before the whole tea debacle. They split the expenses; TK kindly turns down Carlos’ offer to drive them back home. Soon enough, it’s just Leyre and Carlos in the truck, on their thirty-minute drive back to the ranch.

Carlos takes advantage of the situation to ask his daughter, “Leyre, what was that, exactly?” She looks at him in confusion. “You know what I mean. It was a set up, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she defends herself, staring out the window at the passing landscape. “It was nice to be with them again. It almost felt like the old times.”

“Cariño,” Carlos says with an exasperated huff. “I don’t want you to start thinking about things that aren’t real. There’s not—”

“I know,” she cuts him off with a dramatic sigh that she’s learned from her Auntie Nancy. “TK and you won’t be getting back together. I know. But you said I could still be friends with Jonah.” Carlos doesn’t know what to say to that; his daughter’s words echo in the small cabin of the truck, slicing through his heart. “You and Jonah can be friends, you know that. And TK and I, we can also be friends. That doesn’t mean we’ll get back together, cariño.”

“If Jonah and I can be friends, can I invite him to my birthday party at the ranch next month?” Leyre retaliates, ignoring Carlos’ last words.

“If that’s what you want,” Carlos acquiesces. “I’ll talk to TK once you’ve invited Jonah, see if he can stay at the ranch for the party.”

“Auntie Tommy and Auntie Nancy will be there,” Leyre reminds him. “And Auntie Grace and Uncle Judd with Charlie. I bet TK would love to stay.”

Carlos hums. Even though he knows that the ranch isn’t too far away for people to go back and forth for just a birthday party; when he was a child, the parents of every single kid he’d invited to his parties had remained on the ranch for their own adult party while the children jumped around on the bouncy castle. Things haven’t changed much ever since; Carlos is actually expecting to host a large number of parents for Leyre’s thirteenth birthday.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” he settles on saying.

It turns out that Friday is not the last time Carlos and TK go to that particular tea house for their boba tea, but coincidentally the next few times happen without the company of their kids. They take to spending more time together outside of the building while they wait for Jonah and Leyre, and at some point, TK repeats his invitation to the boba tea house for the following day, about an hour before classes are done. Carlos surprises himself by accepting, feeling more at ease with TK than how he’s felt in Austin in a long time.

It becomes their tradition. They meet at the tea house, spend an hour relearning how to be friends again, and then go their separate ways once the kids are out of school. Their ritual infuses life in Carlos’ soul every single day, and he misses their routine tea on the weekends. They’re also becoming braver as they spend more time together; TK’s hand on the table seems closer to Carlos’ with each passing day, and Carlos himself becomes bolder as he slides his fingers against TK’s one day. The contact sends sparks up his arm, and he withdraws his hand immediately, but he can see TK blushing as he hides his face in his boba.

“So,” TK says one day, after they’re sitting on the terrace with their tea. “Jonah’s told me that Leyre’s birthday party is coming up.”

“Yeah,” Carlos confirms, sipping from his paper cup. “It’ll be at the ranch. It’s fairly out in the countryside, so you’re welcome to stay for the party. I think Grace and Judd are coming too. Leyre can’t get enough of her favorite aunts and uncles,” he finishes.

TK chuckles. “Jonah’s the same.” There’s a pause before he asks, in a mellow voice, “Is it okay if I’m there? I mean—your family—”

Carlos sighs. The pang of pain slicing through his heart is well deserved, he’s aware of that. He’s the one who sowed that doubt in TK’s soul, the only reason why he’s asking now. “They will be there.” Carlos shakes his head, staring down at the table before owning up to what he really wants to say. “I told them,” he begins. “About us, I mean. About when we were, you know, a we. I’m sorry I didn’t tell them before. I’m sorry it was part of what drove you away.”

It’s taken him months to actually say the words out loud, and when he does they spill from his mouth in a jumbled pile of feelings, wetness oozing from his eyes as he can’t hold TK’s gaze. He knows he’s putting a dent in their newfound, tentative friendship; but he needed to say it out loud, he needed to apologize for at least one of the things he did disastrously wrong back when they were dating.

TK’s hand finds his arm and he squeezes to catch Carlos’ attention. “I’m sorry, too,” he says when Carlos dares to make eye contact. “I was scared, too. I didn’t feel safe in our relationship,” he explains. When Carlos goes to apologize again, because he feels that pain deep in his soul, TK presses on, “I didn’t consider how unsafe you felt, and how unsafe you’d felt for so much of your life. I always had my family’s support. I never stopped to think how it must feel not having any kind of support, not even from your most loved ones. I shouldn’t have left without asking. And for that, I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to apologize for so long. I just didn’t know how. And now that we’re friends once again, it just seemed—appropriate.”

Carlos searches TK’s face for any sign of mockery, but he finds the singer is being truthful. He doesn’t know what to say, words and feelings suddenly tangled in a knot in his throat; he bites his lower lip and allows himself to just look into TK’s green eyes. They’re the only tether to this world that Carlos has ever needed.

But he doesn’t say anything else, and Carlos understands the apology for what it is — a way to move forward, to rebuild a feeble friendship. That’s all they’ll ever be, Carlos realizes. And it’s all he’s wanted — to have TK back in his life in any capacity. But the disappointment of losing what could have been hurts so much that Carlos fears his heart is going to tear up in half.

TK clears his throat, breaking the spell that has bound them together in silence. “And, uh, now that we’re friends,” he stutters. Carlos arches an eyebrow at TK’s evident nervousness.

“Yeah?” he prompts, all his previous feelings forgotten in the face of having to be there for TK. Carlos has always known that there’s nothing he won’t do for TK; apparently, squashing down his pain and putting up a smiley face is now part of that.

“I think I may need help with settling in,” TK confesses. “We, um, we’ll be staying for longer than expected. My father needs me, and I don’t have a label to go back to in New York. I might have told them to go fuck themselves,” he chuckles, “after they told me I couldn’t make the music that makes me happy. So I’m thinking about staying here. Permanently. You know all the good places, so I thought I’d ask.”

Carlos is so taken aback by the question that he scoffs out a laugh. “I can help,” he says. “But just know that I wasn’t able to find a place for us in the entire time we’ve been here. So I don’t know—”

“I don’t think we’ll need to search for places anytime soon,” TK cuts him off. “We’re fine with my father for now. Besides, I don’t think I can find the right place. So many things would be missing right now.” There’s a wistful look in TK’s eyes, one that has Carlos wondering the meaning behind those words.

He desperately hopes TK means that he’d be missing Carlos and Leyre.

Instead of voicing what he really wants to say, he asks, “Grace and Judd, Paul and Marjan, are they moving down to Austin too? Are they okay with that?”

“Paul and Marjan were transplants in New York,” TK explains. “They said they could move here again. They lived here for some months a decade ago; we actually met here. And Grace and Judd, well, you know they’re from here.” TK smiles. “Grace said she should be looking for schools for Charlie soon, and she loves being surrounded by family once again. It helps her transition from her part-time job in New York to working full shifts as a dispatcher again. So it was an easy sell to her. Judd just—”

“—goes along with everything she says,” Carlos finishes. He snickers. “Sounds like you’ve got it all covered.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Neither says anything else, but TK’s hand remains on Carlos’ arm for the rest of their stay at the tea house.

TK’s presence in Austin comes, as Carlos could have anticipated, with so many changes for them all. One of them — the best, if Carlos is asked — is that, once settled down in their old house close to the 126 station, Grace and Judd begin to host weekend gatherings. Every Saturday without fail, Carlos shows up at their door with Leyre; he usually brings a bottle of wine or a dish of tamales as an offering. The kids do their homework and have time to play, and the adults can catch up on the events of the week. Those gatherings also mean that Carlos sees TK outside the little bubble of boba tea friendship they’ve developed; Carlos feels like they’re slowly building up to a close relationship. He wishes they could be more, but he also knows it’s not only in his hands. Sometimes it seems like TK’s veering for something more, something deeper than what they already have, but it could very much be Carlos’ psyche playing tricks on him.

Life is somewhat good to Carlos, and he’s slowly learning to accept that he may deserve this semblance of serenity.

Leyre’s birthday party falls on a Saturday. Carlos is in the kitchen that morning, helping his mother with the food as she cooks for a whole army when Leyre has repeated several times that it will only be the twins and Jonah from her side — she’s still fairly new to the school and she isn���t comfortable inviting anyone else. Evidently, she’s also invited Grace and Judd; Carlos is surprised when his mother announces that she’s invited Captain Strand as well.

“Are you sure he’s coming?” Carlos asks as he points out the display of Mexican food on the table. “Captain Strand seems like the kind of person who only eats organic.”

“He doesn’t say no to your mom’s tamales,” Andrea Reyes stage-whispers as she hands him another tray full of food. “Now, go on, take this outside. Everyone must almost be here!”

The party is in full swing when it happens.

The kids have been running around in the sun, and the adults have had a nice day lying around and stuffing themselves with some Reyes family’s recipes. Carlos is sitting on the ground, his back against the trunk of an old tree as he listens to Grace retelling some anecdote that happened during her shift at the 911 call center. Nancy and Mateo are holding hands under the sun as Paul and Marjan tease them for that, all the while holding hands themselves. Captain Strand, Tommy, and Carlos’ parents are sitting at a table, and TK is nowhere to be found.

Carlos looks around for him, neck stretching as he tries to look past where Leyre, Izzie and Evie are making a flower crown for Jonah. When he locates TK, the singer is stepping out of the house through the glass panel doors that lead to the kitchen, followed by Judd. TK’s holding his guitar.

“Everyone, listen up!” Judd hollers. “TK here would like to sing a few songs.”

“That was subtle, geez, thanks, Judd,” TK grits out. He’s blushing, but Carlos can’t tell whether the red tinging his cheeks is solely from embarrassment or from having stood in the sun for hours. “I, ah, I didn’t get you a present, Leyre,” he says, addressing Carlos’ daughter, who’s perked up at the mention of her name. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“Are you singing at my party?” she asks with a smile. When he nods, she shrieks, “A whole TK Strand private show for us!”

The adults laugh at the kids’ excitement; the twins and Leyre rush to sit in front of where TK’s pulled up a stool. Jonah follows them quickly, joining in their shouting.

“It’s been a while since I last played my guitar for just family and friends,” TK keeps talking as he tunes the instrument. “But this song, well. It’s a new one. It’s the first time I’m singing it in front of people. I feel at home here, with you. You’re my family. I trust you. And I—” he hesitates. He flashes Leyre a small smile before adding, “I love you all.”

The first notes of the song fall off the guitar strings easily, and TK’s voice fills the suddenly charged air as he begins singing.

This city is sad without you And I know I'm not your favorite chapter In the book you're writing your life on But I hope that you still smile When you think of what we went through The good and the bad and the ugly The sad and the hard and the happy No one's guaranteed anything

TK’s eyes are closed as he sings. Carlos’ heart is beating hard in his chest; the lyrics sound handcrafted for their particular situation, and he realizes with a start that TK’s been writing a song about them this whole time.

There will always be a piece of you in me And I don't want to forget And I don't want to move on 'Cause this love you can't get away from This love is laced with hurt and loss Here I'll be, howling at the moon until dawn

There weren't stars in your eyes When I first looked at you There weren't stars or oceans or worlds Just this feeling of home I don't want whole worlds or oceans I don't need the stars to guide me Sometimes home is a heartbeat I just want to come back home

Please tell me I can still come home

Carlos stands up although his legs almost give out beneath him. He stumbles as he blindly makes his way to the kitchen; he ignores the whispered calls from his parents and Captain Strand as he rushes past them. He just needs to breathe, and he’s suffocating as TK keeps singing about the failure that their love was.

There will always be a piece of you in me And I don't want to forget And I don't want to move on I want your voice as the soundtrack to the rest of my life 'Cause this love you can't get away from This love is laced with hurt and loss Untangle the pain with a promise of forgiveness

We fell in love with our eyes closed And the world broke down as I opened them And maybe my life has been scarred by loss And maybe I've never been able to escape it Until you

But if you give me a second chance I'll prove to you that love Is more powerful than fear I was fearless because I had you We were forever in a second too short I just want to hold you close Until dawn

He reaches the glass panel doors and stumbles through them. Carlos’ breath hitches in his throat, and he feels like he’s choking on air. He needs a glass of water. He needs something stronger, but he hasn’t drunk anything stronger than a beer ever since he first met TK. It’s remarkably painful to realize that his whole life has revolved around the singer who’s just bared his soul for their whole world to see.

Carlos also feels rage building up in his gut. He thought they were taking steps in the right direction; being friends — at first for their kids’ sake, then for an entirely different reason — talking and sharing stories over a drink every afternoon. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up because he thought TK was bound to leave Austin for New York at some point — until Tk told him they would stay for good. But Carlos has already blown up their chances once. He knows there’s no possibility of anything beyond friendship. He just doesn’t understand why TK felt the need to stand up and declare a love that Carlos knows he doesn’t deserve — a love he knows can’t be reciprocated. Not because Carlos doesn’t love TK back, because he does; he does, with all his heart and his soul.

It’s because Carlos doesn’t think he deserves TK’s love, and TK’s song has just reminded him of all the reasons why they’re doomed to failure.

These past weeks have proven to him that they can be good as friends. There’s no need to rock the boat for something that they've already ruined once.

“Carlos?” he hears at his back. When he turns, TK is standing in the glass doors. The rest of the party remains outside; it’s evident they’re trying to give them some privacy, as Tommy calls for the kids to resume their playing and Judd speaks loudly over everyone else. “Are you okay?”

Carlos wants to say that he, in fact, isn’t okay. That he never will be. That he can’t be, not when TK’s out there singing songs about feelings that last forever when the pain is still too raw. But he doesn’t say anything.

He just splutters and stammers, fighting to find the right words. TK closes the door behind him and moves further into the kitchen, walking around the island and standing in front of Carlos. When he reaches out, Carlos recoils as though he’s been slapped.

“What is wrong with you?” Carlos exclaims, frustrated. He’s tired of trying — he’s tired of this game of tug-of-war, he’s exhausted and he doesn’t think his heart can take any more of this uncertainty. “What do you want from us? From me? What was that song—Why now, TK? What the fuck is wrong with you?” he repeats, taking a step forward, almost crowding TK’s personal space, forcing him to be pressed up against the counter.

To his credit, TK stands there stoically, holding Carlos’ gaze as Carlos loses the last threads of sanity he had left after the song TK just performed in the backyard of his family ranch.

“What’s wrong is that I don’t have an answer to give Jonah whenever he asks me about why you guys aren’t in our lives anymore,” TK replies, voice tinged with something that’s rawer than pure feeling. Carlos stares at him wide-eyed. “What’s wrong is that I wish you were there but I know that I fucked up and I don’t deserve you, or Leyre, or the happiness we had. What’s wrong—” He trails off for a second, looking down at his feet until he seems to muster up enough courage to look back up at Carlos, who’s entranced by the passion that oozes from TK’s words. “What’s wrong is that every morning and every night,” TK continues slowly, deliberately, as though he’s measuring every single sound that comes out of his mouth, “I lie in bed wondering why you’re not beside me. That’s what’s wrong.”

“You can’t—” Carlos backs away. TK stands his ground, hands gripping the counter behind him for balance. Carlos suddenly feels short of breath, his lungs threatening to collapse as his heart beats so fast he fears it will leap out of his chest. “You can’t come here and say those things,” he mumbles. “You can’t come here and expect everything to be miraculously fixed after—after what we said. After what I did. It’s evident it wasn’t meant to be, TK. We should accept—”

“Don’t say that! Don’t say it wasn’t meant to be,” TK cuts him off. He’s taken a couple of steps forward while Carlos was rambling, and all of a sudden he’s back in Carlos’ personal space. “Because it was. We were. Maybe only for a short while,” he muses. “But we were. We were meant to be, Carlos. Look around us,” TK continues, gesturing towards the glass panel doors that lead outside where Carlos can hear the hum of laughter coming from their families.

There’s a lull in the conversation as Carlos turns around, conflicted. He understands what TK means perfectly — they are part of a bigger scheme, more complex than two broken hearts in search of peace.

Maybe it’s as simple as those two hearts finally finding that their broken pieces simply match.

“If you want us to remain just friends, I will respect your decision,” TK mutters. There’s something in his voice that forces Carlos to face him once again. “I’m sorry if I came off too strong with the song,” he adds with a self-deprecating chuckle. “There’s, ah, there’s a whole lot of songs where that one came from. I kinda wrote an album. But I haven’t recorded any, I just—” TK cuts himself off. He takes a step back, and then another, and then they’re once again on opposite sides of the kitchen.

Carlos feels the loss of TK’s heat against him instantly, and he mourns it like the moon mourns the sun when the night comes.

“What are those other songs about?” Carlos asks after what feels like an eternity. It could have been seconds, too; Carlos is too busy getting lost in TK’s greener-than-green gaze.

“I can’t really explain,” TK replies. “They’re just—they’re all about love, I guess, and home.”

Carlos feels his heart doing somersaults in his chest. It’s presumptuous of him, he thinks, to just assume that TK’s written all those songs with him in mind; but this one song he just played in the backyard of Carlos’ family ranch during Leyre’s birthday is one written with Carlos in mind. He knows that fact.

Deep in his bones, he feels that TK is right, that they really were meant to be. They were thrown into a violent storm and they didn’t know how to brave those troubled waters, but they’re friends now. Or at least Carlos thinks they are. He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been fantasizing about taking that last step and reaching out of his comfort zone just to see if TK felt the same.

Just to see if they could become the imperfect puzzle of feelings they once were.

And now the chance is right in front of him. However, for some strange reason he can’t even understand himself, he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Maybe, he tells himself, it’s time to stop fearing the worst.

Carlos takes one step forward in this dance they’re dancing right now, and another, and another, until he can feel TK’s breath on his face. “TK,” he mutters, blindly taking TK’s hands in his. TK’s grip is strong but also hesitant, as though he doesn’t believe this is happening. “I just can’t believe—that you still feel—after everything—” He doesn’t know how to continue. “I don’t know how to work around all the drama that comes with you being, you know, an international pop star,” he settles on.

“It’s not—Carlos, it’s not about the drama. We can handle that,” TK promises, pushing forward and resting his forehead on Carlos’. “But what’s more important is—It's about love. Everyone knows. Our family knows. Jonah and Leyre know. Hell, even the world and most of my fans know. Tarlos has been trending worldwide longer than Talex ever did, did you know that? Everyone knows that this love we shared, the love we share, it’s—this is the kind of love that you can't get away from.” TK becomes quiet for a moment, as though he’s run out of words. Carlos is trembling, and he feels his legs won’t be able to hold his weight much longer, but he miraculously manages to stand still as TK gathers his thoughts and starts speaking again. “And yeah, maybe my life has been scarred with loss. That part of the song is true. Everything I sang out there is true, Carlos. At times, that loss has felt inescapable. My mom, and then Enzo, and then you.”

Carlos is about to interrupt him at the mention of Gwyn Morgan, but TK shoots him a look that silences him immediately. “I heard you,” he explains. “When you visited me while I was in that coma. I heard you. I know what you think happened with my mother and Iris. And I’ve wanted to tell you that there’s nothing to forgive, Carlos. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. The family of that other woman — I’ve wanted to talk to them for so long, but I never knew how to. I wanted to find them and tell them that we know it was an accident and that it wasn’t Iris’ fault. And when you told me—I was almost relieved. I was relieved to finally know who they were, and then I wanted to tell you that there’s nothing to forgive. But I didn’t know how to. All I know is that—that this thing never stood between us and it never will be. But maybe I was terrified you wouldn’t see it that way; that I could possibly lose you before even having you back if I breached the topic myself. I know now that that was stupid. But sometimes we do stupid things in the name of love, don’t we? That’s the risk of love, right?”

Carlos holds his breath while TK speaks about loss and love. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, and that’s probably his first mistake, because TK seems to take his silence as a cue to draw back.

And that act finally shakes Carlos awake. He reaches for TK and tugs at him until he’s holding the singer close. TK doesn’t move away, and that emboldens Carlos to act, if only he knew how to.

He knows he needs to say something. He searches his soul for the words that he should be speaking, and he surprises himself when he realizes that, contrary to the lies he’s been feeding to himself ever since TK stormed out of his life, he actually believes that they have a chance.

What was I thinking? he asks himself as he tries his best to find his voice. Did I really believe my own lies?

He’s drowning in feelings, and so he decides to speak with his heart instead of with this mind.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Loving someone means risk, yeah. But love is worth it,” he finishes his train of thought. He feels those words, though — he feels the weight of a love that never really went away.

It was just lying low, getting stronger so it could hold them both when they were ready to face their fears.

“For the first time in my life,” TK begins after a beat, “the love that I feel is infinitely more powerful than the fear of losing it. Because I’ve already lost you, Carlos, and that proved to me that I can live without you. But I don’t want to. I want to be with you. I love you, Carlos. And every moment that we're not together is a wasted moment. And, baby, we—” TK hesitates, as if the dropping of that endearment has shaken his core as much as it’s shaken Carlos’. “We only get so many.”

They remain silent in the dimly lit kitchen, the last rays of the dying sun filtering through the windows as the noises from a house full of love surround them. Carlos basks in the feeling of having TK once again in arms, and from the way TK is swaying to remain closer to Carlos’ chest, he can tell the singer definitely needs this as much as he does.

“Home can be a person,” TK finally mutters, nose sliding against Carlos’. “And I know you are my home. I just—I just want to come back home, Carlos. Please tell me I can come home.”

Maybe it’s the repetition of that particular line of the song that threw shivers up and down Carlos’ spine. Or maybe it’s the overwhelming feeling of belonging he gets whenever he’s near TK. Whatever it is, Carlos is done fighting it.

He’s done shying away from his demons.

“Well then,” he mutters, his fingers finding the back of TK’s neck and resting there as if they never stopped touching TK. “Welcome home, TK,” Carlos whispers against TK’s lips, claiming them in a kiss that both consumes him and gives him life.

They’re both, finally, home.

#the fic #lire's 911lsbb #forever in a second too short (home is a heartbeat) #911lsbb #chapter 12

[stupididiotfreak-blog]

Grief and Loss

I felt like you started leaving me a year before you did

Becoming a person I could not talk to about my stresses or worries

Not even hopes or plans for the future.

I stopped sleeping with you because I was sad and I felt alone. The distance between us grew.

And now I'm in another relationship, and it happened faster than I thought. I feel guilty for being with them when I haven't finished grieving over my loss of you.

While we probably would have never worked out, I still lost something and I feel like getting over this, if I do, will take awhile. Some things last a long time.

I miss driving around east ridge with you and telling you how much I loved it. Or passing by industrial parks, you smiling and laughing as I enthusiastically say how much I love the scenery.

I miss telling you how beautiful a day it is, when I know you didn't agree, but you smiled anyway because you liked my perspective.

I miss the times we would listen to old emo songs from our childhood or you singing with all your expressions to Kanye West. I miss asking you if we could get married one day

but I do not miss how you would shut down and never give me an answer that made me feel sure about our future together.

I'm with someone who I can talk to about the future with, who generally shows up when I need them and I'm at my lowest. I'm with someone now who has dreams for their future.

But they don't listen to the sad songs we used to. They don't entertain the sliver of nihilism within me, like you did.

They don't even enjoy watching the same shows we would watch together.

But they want a future with me and they express that.

I thought I'd be alone after you, and I'm not sure why I found someone else so quickly. The winter was approaching and maybe, subconsciously, I knew I wouldn't make it through the end of the year without someone to hold onto.

I'm angry that you left me when I was at my lowest, but I'm still sinking and you've been gone for four months.

I've been doing performance art, again, but this time I don't have you laughing at my concepts and telling me I was the bravest person you knew.

It's good we parted, but I miss having you as my best friend. I've been trying to figure out what that means to me, even though you stopped showing up for me a long time ago. Why do I hold onto these ideas of you so closely?

I drive by your usual haunts sometimes, and every silver sedan I pass I wonder if it's you in that car- but I'm too scared to spare any glances.

I fear if I saw you again I would cry and never stop.

The person I'm with now doesn't mind my friends, and enjoys spending time with them and being social. It's refreshing but a part of me misses you, sitting quietly in corners at gatherings and nervously wiping the sweat from your palms onto your pants.

I know we were not compatible long term. But I sometimes close my eyes and think of all the moments I mentally recorded with you, and pretend I'm still there.

[zerobaseonefics]

🫶

thank you thank you thank youuuu!!!<33

HAHSGA IM SCARED OF WHAT WILL PEOPLE THINK ABOUT ME… LIKE I JUST LEARNED THAT SORRY IS DESOLE BUT WITH È OR É I DONT REMEMEBR AND MY ACCENT IS PROBABLY BAD TOO I MEAN ITS NOT THAT BAD BUT ITS BAD AND I CANT MAKE PROPER SENTENCES IN FRENCH SO I WILL HAVE TO SPEAK ENGLISH MAJORITY OF THE TIME AND IM SO SCARED LIKE WHAT IF THEY DONT SPEAK ENGLISH???:?&,!,!

i also cant wait!!!!!!!! and thsnk you:> it went great (i think and hope so) because the teacher said i did good with the verbs etc

HABSGSGS BUT I MEAN AT LEAST YOU CAN WATCH THE PERFORMANCES ON YOUTUBE👲 AND I REALLY RECOMMEND YOU LISTENING TO: carpe diem - joker out (slovenia), Future Lover - Brunette (armenia) (honorable mention: cha cha cha - käärijä (finland)) and yes thats it👲 but these are just my favs~~ here are the songs i like: My sisters crown - vesna (czechia)(you probably dont understand the lyrics but its just so omg.. and most people dont like it because of the lyrics) (its mostly men or just people thst dont understand the lyrics) (like i literally have goosebumps listening to the „chorus(?)”), évidemment - la zarra (france, idk why people are shitting on it i like it😭), bridges - alika (estonia), Who the hell is edgar? - teya & salena (austria), portugal, albania, belgium, ukraine were good but i wouldnt put them in my playlist or something, georgia was so good but didnt qualify to the finals and wouldnt put it in my playlist too

#StreamBlankaSolo/j

~🤍

i'm glad to hear that it went good!!

IT'S DÉSOLÉ DEAR!! (YOU ADD AN E AT THE END BCZ YOU USE SHE/HER PRONOUMS, SO IT'S DÉSOLÉE)

tbh don't worry too much abt it cuz if you go to Paris, they are pretty much used to tourists and most of them don't speak french 😭 they should all have a decent level in english so they can be able to communicate with tourists. the thing is most french people have a very strong french accent when speaking english. it's not even bcz they can't do it, it's just them trying to assert dominance ig KFKZKSKSKS

im screenshoting this so i can listen to everything later <3 i'll tell you what i think abt each one later 🫶🏼

#zerobaseonefics #🤍anon <3

[colorsofshiningstars]

*:・✧ 🌟 ✧・:*

#shinee #jonghyun #key #onew #taemin #minho #sw2017 #tokyo dome #get the treasure #gif:shinee #shining stars #gifs #flashing gif tw #my gifs #their best choreo #out of all songs they can perform in the future i'm scared of watching this one the most..

[vivelafrancemotherfuckers]

WEST SIDE STORY 2021 THOUGHTS (SPOILERS)

Yesterday I saw Spielberg's West Side Story and I have no words. I'm very picky when it comes to movie adaptations of musicals, and I was definitely slightly uncertain about this one, but it has absolutely blown me away. Spielberg's love for the show is blatant in every frame he presents and every choice he's made.

I don't want to conpare it too much with the previous adaptation. I just want to point out a few highlights:

1. THIS CAST. Seriously. I hate A. E. so I won't speak much about him. All I'll say is I was expecting him to be worse, but he wasn't. In fact, it would have been considered a better performance if he hadn't had to share the screen with these absolute human powerhouses. Which leads me to (standing ovation) Ariana DeBose, Mike Faist, and David Alvarez. Theater pros who have arrived in Hollywood to show them how it's done. Spielberg proves the importance of casting people who know the craft over people with name recognition. They stole the show. Rachel Zegler left me speechless. That voice, that emotional depth, and that screen presence, at that age? What a future ahead of her! And what can I say about Rita Moreno that hasn't been said already? She is such a beautiful addition to the film, and a gift to us all to be able to see this performance from her at almost 90. And, finally, the Sharks/Jets are phenomenal and I'm glad they were allowed to shine. Josh Rivera and Kyle Coffman come to mind as standouts. Josh makes Chino incredibly complex, and Kyle scared the shit out of me in the scenes after the rumble. It felt weird to be scared of a Newsie. Speaking of Newsies, playing "spot the newsie" was a lot of fun.

2. THE CINEMATOGRAPHY. Janusz Kaminsky's work is always stellar. But he was able to understand something crucial to movie adaptations that not many can master: make use of the medium. It's based on a stage show, but it's not a stage show. This, my friends, is A MOVIE. It encapsulates late 50s New York, the very vivid image of the rise of gentrification. You can feel the desperation of all the people who will soon lose their homes and their blocks in the name of progress. It lookd like it was made in the 1950s while being distinctively a modern movie. And the dancing. Oh, boy, do Spielberg and Kaminsky know how to film a dance number! Chef's kiss.

3. THE MUSICAL NUMBERS. Speaking of dancing... I can't find the words to describe how I felt watching Justin Peck's choreography performed by these absolute beasts. The opening number, the dance at the gym, AMERICA, cool. Oh, boy. The beauty of it all. I don't know how to explain it. You have to SEE it.

4. THE REFERENCES. I loved how there were very subtle visual references to '61 like the purple wall and pinkish tones before the song Maria and the use of snippets of Robbins' choreography here and there, as well as direct references to Romeo and Juliet when Tony says he's a by the book guy (Juliet tells Romeo "you kiss by th'book" when they first meet), or also visually with the clusters looking strikingly like Verona. It's a great nod to what came before them. I'm sure I'll find many more when I rewatch it.

5. CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. Shout out to Tony Kushner for fleshing out the characters more to show us why they make the decisions they make and why they are the way they are. Chino's arc helped us to understand how he gets to the point of killing Tony. We understand why Tony has been away from the Jets, and Anybody's, my love, has more scenes and a bigger involvement in the plot. Even San Juan Hill itself and the community are explored more, which we as 2021 audiences might need for context if we wish to understand the characters. Other subtle but brilliant details like the Jets playing with the gun that Riff just bought hit you like brick with the reality that these guys are, after all, a bunch of kids fighting over a territory that won't be there for much longer.

Overall, I'm still impressed by it even a day later. Was it perfect? Probably not. I never liked the originall placement of I Feel Pretty in the second act, and hoped they would play out the dramatic irony of the audience knowing what happened at the rumble against María's happiness a bit more, and I wanted Bernardo to have more to do, but it still blew me away. I can say that, after almost a decade of being let down by movie adaptations of my favorite musicals, I finally left the cinema feeling every positive feeling possible and can't wait to watch it again. I feel blessed to have yet another way to experience this story. Because, remember guys, this movie doesn't replace the 1961 adaptation, it builds on it. It's not a remake, it's a different adaptation of the same material. And what a wonderful adaptation it is. Thank you, Mr. Spielberg.

#west side story #west side story 2021 #steven spielberg #rachel zegler #ariana debose #mike faist #david alvarez #west side story spoilers #rita moreno

[spidernerdsblog]

Wedding Shenanigans

A/N : Not me using my cousin's wedding as a plot for my fic. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while really didn’t have the nerve to post it. I’m still nervous tbh. Please don’t hate me if it’s bad my over dramatic ass just went a little overboard.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Indian! Reader

Summary : you are back home for your best friend’s wedding and Tom decides to accompany you.

Warnings : just over dramatic crap, sexual innuendos

Mini Playlist : Aa toh sahi, First kiss

(Note- As our country has a vast diversity of languages the italicized dialogues represents whatever native language you speak. I didn’t want to emphasize on a particular language.)

"You sure you wanna tag along?" you try to confirm with him again.

"Yeah I have never attended an Indian wedding before. Moreover I should have an experience you know for future just like Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra our grand wedding" he chirped. 

"We will be staying at my parent’s house so no room sharing with me" 

"What? Not again! But why can't I share a room? I mean your parents do know that we live together" 

"Yeah but that's India honey, no sleeping together before marriage" 

"I have to sleep all alone at night without you that's not fair" He whined.

"You can share a room with my dad then" you suggested.

"What? No not your dad" he gave a mortified look. 

"Why what’s wrong?'' you let out an airy laugh.

"I’m really scared of him" you chuckled at his confession

"What? Don’t laugh at me, he really intimidates me" 

"Well he is the only person who will decide to give my hand to you or not, so man up baby" 

"And it's just for one night then we will go to the resort where the wedding will take place. And there hopefully we can share a room or you can share a room with Rahul or the other guys. I'll talk to them about it.

"Not that chump!" he immediately protested.

"What is with you and him?" you chuckle.

"When the person is a potential candidate to steal your girl you have to be a little defensive" 

"God how many times do I need to tell you that we never had anything between us, he’s just my childhood friend." 

"You may not have but I have noticed the last time we went to visit your parents he is always trying to woo you and moreover you parents like him too" he grumbled.

"Aww someone is jealous" 

"I’m spiderman. Why would I be jealous? He says defensively, you smirk.

"Ok spiderman pack your things quickly"

You flew back to India the next day, you stayed the night at your parents house before leaving for the resort to attend your best friend’s wedding.

''Y/N!!" Your best friend squealed in excitement as she eagerly hugged you.

"Missed you so much. 

"Me too babe. Can’t believe you’re getting married. When did we grow so big?" you pout.

"Hey Y/N" 

"Hi Rahul. Missed you so much bro" you hugged him.

"Hey darling let's go to our room shall we? You must be tired" Tom eavesdropped in your conversation.

''Yeah I'm a little"

"Hey man how are you?" Rahul asked.

"I’m good, mate. Will talk to you later."

"Yeah sure, go take some rest" Tom literally dragged you away from him.

"What was that?" you frowned.

"Nothing" He said. You chuckled, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s possessive attitude.

After settling down in your room you went to freshen up. You stepped out of the bathroom drying your with a towel as you informed Tom.

"Okay so tomorrow is haldi" 

"What’s that?" 

"Well it's a ritual where we apply turmeric paste to both bride and groom, it is said turmeric improves your skin tone. I know it sounds stupid but age old custom so can’t be changed" you continued. 

"So don’t wear something expensive as the turmeric stain will be hard to remove. You will be with the guys I have told Rahul everything so you will not have any problem'' he rolls his eyes. 

"And please don't end up killing him''

The next morning after the puja was completed your best friend was made to sit on a seat decorated with flowers. As all the married women applied turmeric to her blessing her for a happy married life. Then came all of your turn. And you guys didn't leave a spot, painting her completely yellow. 

"Y/N come here let me apply some turmeric so that next will be your turn" a woman offered.

"No thanks I'm fine" you dodged her somehow. 

You went back to your room to change, Tom returned as well.

"You guys played quite a holi I see" you comment seeing his face and kurta painted yellow.

"Yeah but why didn’t you put that?

"I'll only apply only when it has been touched by my husband on my wedding day"

"Well I can help you with that" he backed you up against the wall caging you and slowly leaned down. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his face inched closer to yours, you thought he was going for a kiss as you parted your lips instead he tilted to the side brushing his cheek to yours and he did the same thing with your other cheek. 

"There you go" he maneuvered you to face the mirror and you saw turmeric paste on your cheeks. 

"Tom! Seriously? I thought-" you huff

"What did you think darling?" He whispers with  a sultry voice.

"Nothing!" 

"Someone is horny" He chuckles.

"Shut up you dickhead!" you snapped.

"But weren't you thinking about my dick in the first place?" He teases to annoy you even more.

"Ugh!! you know what Rahul is much better than you!" saying so you ran inside the bathroom shutting the door. 

"What? What did you say?" he heard your giggles from inside. 

Later in the day you were in the community hall of the resort with your friends discussing your dance performances.

"Guys we can’t let the groom’s side win do you get that?" you state.

"Chill Y/N we are gonna set the stage on fire" 

"So what songs are we gonna perform? And please no bole chudiyan" you quip.

"Dilli wali girlfriend?" one of them suggested.

"Yeah that will definitely be kept for the end other than that?" 

"Cutipie?" 

"Nah" 

"Deedar de? Odhani? Sawan mein lag gayi aag?" Everyone suggested in a chorus, someone even suggested ooh la la.” you facepalmed at the chaos. 

"Guys are you planning to seduce those pot bellied bald uncles and middle aged judgemental aunties over there?" everyone went silent as you continued

"No right? So please something sober and fun. These songs can be played in the after party when the main event is over" 

"Morni banke?" someone suggested.

"See now you’re getting it" After a lot of discussion finally you all agreed on some songs and started to choreograph the dance steps. Your eyes went to your boyfriend whom you had completely forgotten in the middle of this.

"You’re getting bored right? I’m so sorry babe this why I said you should pass this one out" 

"Hey no I’m fine plus I kind of figured out a little of your conversation, you are talking of some kind of dance competition" 

"Wow you are improving I’m so proud of you. And yes you’re right tomorrow we have sangeet at night and it’s a dance off bride vs groom and we are gonna smash them" 

"Oh you will, darling. How much of an aggressive competitor you’re no one knows better than me" He chuckles.

"Hey! I’m not aggressive" you protest.

"Do I need to remind you of the one time you were literally about to throw the controller at the tv screen after you lost a match of fortnite?" 

"Okay in my defense you cheated" you narrowed your eyes.

"No I didn't," He says haughtily.

"Yes you did, you distracted me-" you argue back.

"What did I do baby?" His voice was low as you remembered about the distraction he caused.

"Uh never mind" you stutter all flustered.

"Hey Y/N c’mon let’s practise" Rahul called you.

"What’s he gonna do?" Tom frowned.

"He’s my dance partner, I would have asked you but you don’t understand the lyrics well so"

"Yeah yeah I get it, now go" He said rolling his eyes.

You began to practice the dance for the sangeet it went on for sometime. But later everyone got bored to dancing to the same song so random songs were played

Sun baby deadly hai teri walk ni

Tere thumke bhi karte hai talk ni 

Ho dil kare dekhi jaun teri ore

Tu nazre mila toh sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu ik vaari aa toh sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu nazre mila toh sahi

Tu ik vari aa to sahi

You started to move your hips sensually as Rahul joined you too. His hands went to wrap around your waist which made Tom uncomfortable as his face tensed up. You were laughing and giggling unaware of Tom watching you with a pointed look as you both were getting too close to his liking. You looked over your shoulder to find a very displeased Tom. An idea crossed your mind as you waltzed your way to him.

Kab mummy daddy mere tu patayega

Leke band baja ghar mere aayegaKab tak mujhe aise hi ghumayega

Tu baat badha to sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu ik vaari aa toh sahi

Dil diya hai jaan bhi tujhe denge

Tu nazre mila toh sahi

Tu ik vari aa to sahi

Grabbing his hand you pulled him to the center your friends hooted and whistled. You began to dance around him and nudge his shoulder playfully before lacing your hands around his neck pulling him closer to you. You turn around your back pressed against his broad chest as you take his hands and place them around your waist and continue to sway against each other.

............

Next day your best friend was sitting in the courtyard surrounded by all the ladies. The mehendi artist drew beautiful and intricate patterns on her hand with the henna.

You and your girl gang got ready to perform for the occasion as the song ‘mehndi hai rachne wali’ started to play in the background. You all danced to the song gracefully. After the performance you all also got your mehendi done.

"Tom! Tom! Where is my food?!" You yell sitting on your bed with wet henna on your hands.

"Wait a minute my hungry devil" Tom comes with your plate of food.

"Seriously you just can’t wait for a few minutes" He huffs sitting next to you.

"I’m so lucky to have such a sweet and caring boyfriend" you gush. 

"Yeah yeah, now open your mouth" You do as he says. He brings the spoon near your mouth to pull it away immediately and eat the food himself.

"Tom!" You protest, he stifles a laugh. This is a nice punishment for you now cannot work your hands.

"Yeah very funny, don’t talk to me" You turn your face away from him annoyed.

"Hey I’m sorry, here take" He holds the spoon in front of you as you open your mouth to eat but that little fucker does it again going into a fit of laughter.

"You!!" You lift your hands to hit him.

"Ah, ah love don’t think of it or your artwork will only get ruined" He chuckles as you huff in defeat.

"Okay now c’mon, this time no pranks I promise" You frowned at him still dubious but this time he finally fed you. 

"You know they write the name or initial of your husband in this. I made the lady write your initial, think you can find it?" you looked at him with a  playful expression. 

"Is that a challenge, love?" 

"Well maybe" you shrug. 

"Then I fucking accept it!" He gets on to search through the intricate patterns drawn on your hand but soon he realized it was hard than he thought as he frowned.

"Don’t worry baby you have the whole day, you’ll find it eventually I suppose" You snicker.

Later in the evening the sangeet ceremony took place and as expected you guys won the dance off. After all the elders and children were done having their dinner and retreated to their rooms, the younger lot of you as decided earlier had your own kind of mini bachelor’s party with everyone ending up drunk. The boys were dancing on to some peppy bollywood item number, later you and your girlfriends took the stage as the music continued to play.

Ae Yo, Ae Yo

Seene Se Laga Ke Baahon Mein

Mujhe Le Lo

Jaldi Hai Kaisi

I Like It Nice And Slow

Your body swayed sensually as the guys hollered and cheered you girls with a few whistles.

Meri Heart Beat Fast

Aur Sab Lage Mujhe Slo-mo

Mujhe Slow-mo

I Want You Right Now

I Need You Right Now Come

You stretched your hand pointing your finger directly to your boyfriend motioning him to get up and come to you. He obliged with a smirk plastered on his face and strided towards you.

Hassa Hassa Ke Gaya Fasa

Tu Toh Dil Mera

Nasha Nasha Tera Chadha Nasha

Jab Dekha Chehra Tera

Meri Life Mein Yun Kar Gaya Kyun

Har Din Love Wala Season Tu

What You Gonna Do?

Jo Main Keh Du

Meri Heart Beat Ka Reason Tu

His hands rested on your hips as he knelt down to ear and whispered

"You really do like it nice and slow don’t you love?" you elbowed him playfully.

‘‘Fuck off!!’’

‘‘Ow!’’ He groaned chuckling.

…….

It was your bestie's big day as you were getting ready for it putting on your saree.

"Tom can you help me with the pleats of my saree please" 

"Sure darling" He squats down to gather the silky material of your saree, you smoothen the pleats as he holds them in place.

"Thanks hun" You tuck in the pleats inside your underskirt securing them with a pin.

"Anytime sweetheart" He stands up on his feet smiling.

You went on to do your makeup and were busy putting on your jhumkas when Tom’s eyes went to your reflection in the mirror. And boy he was mesmerised, you looked unearthly. He slowly walked to you resting his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your waist, the sweet scent of the jasmine flowers pinned to your hair intoxicating his senses.

"You look so gorgeous, darling." 

"Well thank you, love. You look no less handsome either" And it was so true he actually looked like a snack in that designer kurta. You turned to face him gazing into his soft brown eyes. There was a certain kind of flicker in his eyes which you knew all too well though you were tempted to give in but attending your best friend’s wedding was also important so you brought your hands in front of his face and shook your bangles the jingling  sound broke him out of his trance as he shook his head, blinking his eyes owlishly.

"Now who’s horny huh?" You teased.

"Shut up!" His face turned red all flustered.

"Aww it’s ok baby boy" You tease him even more.

"You’re so in for it later, Y/N" He warns playfully.

"Will see" You winked mischievously "Now c’mon let’s go" you walked out hand in hand towards the dias where the wedding nuptials were to be performed but had to stop on your tracks when you saw a group of aunties coming your way.

"Oh no! Aunties incoming just smile and greet them" You direct Tom warily.

"Do I need to touch their feet?" He asks nervously as you frown.

"No! That’s too much respect they deserve" 

"Y/N how are you?" One of them asked. "You’ve grown so big! You remember me right?" Another lady badgered you with more questions.

"I’m fine, how are you all?" You gave a broad smile as you yourself were confused who the hell they are.

"Everything is going fine for us. So happy Y/F/N is finally going to happily settle in her life, so when is your turn huh?" You gave a tight lipped smile having no clue what to answer.

"You know my sister’s son is in the government sector, a really nice boy and earns a very handsome salary you know if you want-" you cut her off immediately.

"Umm aunty, meet my boyfriend Tom" 

"Hello'' Tom greets them timidly.

"Oh hello-’’ she looked at him with a judgy face okay you kids enjoy then, let me see if anything is needed there or not" 

"Yeah sure" 

"What was she saying?" Tom asked curiously.

"Nothing just trying to set me up with one of her relative’s weird nerdy son" 

"What the-!!" 

"Relax she got her answer which is a clear no. Now let’s go and see the wedding" You went near the dais and observed all the rituals take place one by one. It was the time for walking around the fire for seven times as your best friend and her husband stood up and started revolving around the fire while you showered flowers on them along with everyone.

"Why are they circling around the fire?" 

"It’s quite similar to exchanging vows you see, the bride and groom promise each other to be together for seven lifetimes with the sacred fire as witness" you explained, Tom nods his head in understanding when something went through his mind.

"Y/N let’s get married" Tom says out of nowhere taking you by surprise.

"What?" You chuckle lightly.

"I'm serious Y/N, let's just get married like right now. I mean everything is set, you are dressed no less than a bride and I’m looking handsome as hell and we have a priest right there" 

"Ok Tom, I totally get what you’re saying. But honey, I don’t see a ring" you showed him your empty ring finger scrunching your face.

..............................................................................

Tagging some desi peeps I know here

@peaches-parker​ @parkerpeterparker2004​  @lokibuckylove6​ @calltothewild​

@mischiefmanaged011​ @parker--peter​ @starlight-starks

sorry if I bothered you.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #desi tumblr

[nightxlight9]

Inspired from birth ｜ Emptiness that you want to hug

Dialogue with the Bungei Prize-winning author.

Tono Haruka, who received the Akutagawa Prize (1) less than a year after the 2019 Bungei Prize (2), and Sakurai Atsushi, the frontman of BUCK-TICK, who continues to play an active role in music culture after their major debut in 1987 and who this September celebrated 33 years from that day. As if real father and son, as artists of different genres - what do they feel and get from coexistence? That which was not told before; what I always wanted to hear. Here, for the first time, is presented a dialogue that pushes creative boundaries.

ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ Resonant feelings

Sakurai: I didn’t think the day would come when we could talk like that. I am very grateful.

Tono: Likewise, thank you very much.

— Sakurai-san, when you read Tono-san’s novel, what impression did it leave on you?

Sakurai: Cultivation shocked me. Not in the sense that I didn’t like it - it is rather akin to art that I like to touch. Regarding the Catastrophe — thanks to the Cultivation I am tempered enough for Tono-sensei’s books; and even though there are a lot of hardcore scenes of sex and violence, it didn't shock me too much. While I was reading, he pulled me in and repulsed me - this both disturbed and soothed. Although it is rather ridiculous to describe my impressions of the novel that way.

Tono: It's hard to share your impressions, isn’t it?

Sakurai: After reading Catastrophe, the emptiness of the protagonist seems to leave an aftertaste. She resonates with the emptiness in me, as if I want to embrace something passionately — but there is nothing to embrace. The feeling was like that. I was the kind of child who started to really get into the festival after it was over. Not having fun in the midst of the fun, but thinking about it when it’s already over. And as I grew up, nothing changed. First and foremost, I come to terms with everything, so [for me] the “emptiness” of Tono-sensei’s novel was refreshing.

Tono: Many people mention the word “emptiness” (решите, что вам больше подходит — “emptiness” или “void”). And the main idea of Catastrophe speaks of “the emptiness of a new era”.

Sakurai: Tono-sensei gives the impression of a composed and calm person, and this is imposing on the main character. It seemed to me that the hero contains not only emptiness, but also a certain composure.

Tono: It’s a bit surprising to hear that Sakurai-san has an emptiness. I have listened to BUCK-TICK since elementary school and I think that this band has more of a well-established dark worldview rather than emptiness. Their world is original, which completely sets them apart from other bands, don’t you think?

Sakurai: Been listening since then, really? Thanks. I am very touched.

Tono: My work couldn’t be called bright either, so maybe [their music] subconsciously influenced me.

Sakurai: Dilettante question, but — The Cultivation and Catastrophe are not about personal experiences, they are a product of the imagination, right?

Tono: Yes, that’s right. I was not describing my own experience, but I designed and took everything from imagination. It is much more interesting to write, thinking about what you yourself have not experienced or what you don’t know about, because you can discover something new for yourself.

Sakurai: That is, before you start working, there is no fully-formed concept, it is formed step by step in the process of writing?

Tono: I sketch out something like a rough draft, but when I start writing, I move away from it, and the result is something completely different. It seems that I am writing it myself, and then suddenly something unexpected appears [in the text], which confuses and complicates everything, but this only makes it more interesting.

Sakurai: Something unexpected — for example?

Tono: In Catastrophe, there is a girl named Irori who gets scared at one point. Before starting the work, I thought about including a child somewhere. But when I was already writing, I surprised myself when, at an unexpected moment, she hid under the bed and watched the hero.

Sakurai: Yes, it happens. Could it be that the story itself is rejecting [the planned] in the process of writing? There are deviations from the original design, and in the end it turns out completely different. These changes are fun, it’s great.

ᅠ Life and art

Sakurai: Although not a first-person novel, do you have the same sudden madness and cruelty as the protagonist, Tono-sensei?

Tono: I think I’m a very decent person. I don’t fight people, I don’t stay up late. In that sense, the main character and I are completely different.

Sakurai: So this madness is purely imaginary?

Tono: It doesn’t really happen. This was not conceived in the characters, and yet from time to time they did things that should not have been done, or found themselves involved in unexpected events due to some minor misunderstandings. So I could, in the heat of the moment, do something rash. I still have some kind of crazy thing in me, and this could have affected the characters.

Sakurai: As I read it, it worried me if you were experiencing what you described, or if you are going to experience it in the near future. It was constantly spinning in my head. Perhaps it bothered [me] from a different point of view, not as a reader.

Tono: There is almost nothing from my life or personal experience in this work. The location of the Catastrophe is Keio University (3), and I also studied there. Is that the issue? I have not participated in such events and do not plan to. *laugh*

Sakurai: Thank goodness. *laugh*

Tono: It’s hard to make a story interesting just by describing how the characters sleep and go about their day, so you have to weave in some twists and turns.

Sakurai: There’s a font of worries in there. Very stimulating. Because of this, when I was already finishing it, it felt a little sad, because I wanted to read on, but it seemed that the end was close.

Tono: Of course, as the saying goes, “This is where everything ends”.

Sakurai: How would you, Tono-sensei, suggest to read [this book]?

Tono: How should I put it... I don’t want to impose on readers [thoughts] like “I wrote with this intent” or “This book needs to be read this way and that way”. I do not want to limit the potential interpretations. I would be happier if they read it on their own, calling it boring if it was boring, or interesting if it was interesting.

Sakurai: It's very courageous.

Tono: If I was debuting as a teenager, it might have been different. But since it happened when I was already 28 years old, I do not take readers’ reactions to heart and am not afraid of it.

Sakurai: II only recently came to this. Probably in my fifties, somewhere around the last three released albums. In my youth, I was still that little tyrant, digging in my heels, so that everything was my way. Now it all seems somewhat extreme. Now I think: “Listen as you like”.

Tono: Do you look up the listeners’ impressions?

Sakurai: I don’t want to worry about [reviews on] social media. Not in the sense of “I don't care,” but in the sense of “I don’t want to worry”. So personally, I am not involved in checking such things.

Tono: Well, I’m checking it. I’m trying to figure out, in general, how people read it. It doesn’t affect how I write, though.

Sakurai: Oh, just to confirm [your thoughts], correct? A sensible approach. Of course, in my case, there should be no paranoia at all. You start taking everything to heart and fears will arise, so it’s better not to get carried away.

Tono: Companies conduct surveys of who use their services, don’t they? It’s kind of like that. If all the experiences are completely different from my expectations, it is worth considering how I write.

Sakurai: A top-notch entrepreneur.

Tono: No, I’m a newbie. *laughter* Not a year has passed since my debut...

Sakurai: A very courageous newbie, from where I am looking.

[At our next meeting, I will already be

the winner of the Akutagawa Prize]

Sakurai: Last December he attended the BUCK-TICK concert in Yoyogi. Even before the Catastrophe was published in the magazine. After the performance, we were able to talk a little in the dressing room, and when he was just about to leave, Tono-sensei said, “By our next meeting, I will win the Akutagawa Prize”.

Tono: Ah, yes, he did. It was probably terribly immodest to say that. But if before you roll the dice you declare that it will come up six, and then it really comes up six, it seems that something amazing just happened, right? I wonder if they will ever say: “Just like he said”?

Sakurai: And the promise was fulfilled. It couldn’t be cooler. He was wearing a mask, so it was difficult for me to see his expression, but I saw that dazzling confidence.

Tono: I often say these things even if I haven’t finished my work yet.

Sakurai: It was the last push, right? Thank you for coming to the concert then.

Tono: How could I not? And the next concert will be the day after tomorrow (September 21*)? I bought a ticket.

Sakurai: Is that true? Wow, I am suddenly nervous.

Tono: Is this the first time you broadcast a concert online without an audience?

Sakurai: We performed without an audience at WOWOW once before, and I had no idea how much tension to expect. And a few days ago we had a film-concert shoot — in a large hall, without an audience. Of course, there was no applause or shouts of joy. After each song there is a complete silence.

Tono: Not very encouraging, right?

Sakurai: Right now I'm trying to get inspired by myself. Even now, during the coronavirus epidemic, there are many things you can get latch on to. I realized that even these days I can be on the same wavelength with the energy of my fans. It was not an ordinary feeling. You also can’t do autograph sessions and meetings with readers right now, correct?

Tono: Yes, there are no autograph sessions yet, and the conversations are taking place online. The Akutagawa and Naoki Awards (4) usually serve a lot of food, but this year there was no such thing, and the number of guests was limited.

Sakurai: Very sorry. Still, it must have been an amazing experience.

Tono: The day after tomorrow the sales of the new album “ABRACADABRA” will start, right? What does it look like finished?

Sakurai: After Tono-sensei debuted as a writer, we exchanged messages with him, and it gave me courage. Or if not courage, then determination to write and juggle words. I think it showed itself in the album. Perhaps I’ve managed to open - more precisely, to throw open the door to a vocabulary that I had not used before.

Tono: It seems to me as well, that you succeeded.

Sakurai: Moreover, now I have the strength to use those words.

Tono: Any desire to write a novel?

Sakurai: No way.

Tono: I would read it even if it was very short.

Sakurai: I think it would take an incredible effort from me.

Tono: You were writing song lyrics originally, correct?

Sakurai: Yes, I’m writing. Music has always been on my mind. Although in elementary school I was often praised for [written] reviews of what I have read.

Tono: It was exactly the opposite for me. I was completely unable to describe these impressions. I couldn’t even set it up.

Sakurai: This is amazing.

Tono: I couldn't understand what kind of impressions they were talking about. No matter what I read, everything seemed to me “Well, okay”, but you can’t call that an impression.

Sakurai: In some interview it was mentioned that you were a member of a band when you were at university.

Tono: It was a copy-band, there isn't much to talk about. But Cultivation has a character who plays drums in a band, so that experience influenced the novel.

Sakurai: I’m even a little happy.

Tono: I did a lot of things, but for the most part I gave it all up quickly, so writing is my longest-running occupation at the moment.

Sakurai: Since when have you been writing?

Tono: I started somewhere after I turned twenty, so it’s about seven or eight years old by now. I thought that being on the other side [of the book] was a completely different matter. Like, shouldn’t I become a creator myself and start giving shape to things? Perhaps BUCK-TICK influenced this in some way from the very beginning.

Sakurai: And then a novel ended up being written.

Tono: Yes.

— Did Sakurai-san know that Tono-san was writing a novel?

Tono: The first time I told him about it was when I won the 2019 Bungei Prize for my debut.

Sakurai: I’ve heard something [about this] since he graduated from university, but was amazed when he suddenly made his debut as a writer. However, I was looking forward to [the release of the book]. What kind of work will it be, could not wait to read it — something like that. And I was amazed a second time when Cultivation came out. How did you feel after finishing work on this novel?

Tono: I gained confidence and I decided that I could make it to the final round. I didn’t know, of course, how it would go in the future, if I would end up regretting it.

Sakurai: And he wrote to me about it.

Tono: Yes, that happened. I wrote “I got to the finals”. It was still cooler to report this after receiving the award.

Sakurai: And the coolness of the statement that “next time I meet I will be the winner of the Akutagawa Prize” then went off the charts.

Tono: This is just the beginning.

Different hobbies, same tastes

— This year BUCK-TICK celebrated 33 years from the date of their debut — without breaking up or changing membership of the group. What is the secret of such longevity?

Sakurai: Patience. Group work requires patience. The others and I, by the way, we often say this. But it seems to me that writers are have it more difficult in terms of moral, because they work alone. You have to evaluate yourself. When you are in a group, there is always someone who will express their opinion.

Tono: Perhaps so.

Sakurai: The writers of the old days appear to us to be some kind of alcoholics and drug addicts, down on their luck, with a ruined life — but now people are different.

Tono: In our era, being a writer, you can support yourself with more than just creativity, so in this sense the profession is more reliable than before. And I don’t drink much at all. And you, Sakurai-san, drink a lot, right?

Sakurai: Yes. I am one of those who seek salvation in alcohol. *laughter*

Tono: By the way, do you still read lots of novels?

Sakurai: Recently I reread Mishima Yukio again (5). And also [books] by Numata Mahokaru-san (6) and Taguchi Randi-san (7).

Tono: You’ve loved Mishima Yukio for the longest time, right?

Sakurai: Yes, quite true. It's not just about books — I’ve watched YouTube videos about Mishima Yukio and Kawabata Yasunari (8), and they really are very interesting people.

Tono: I haven’t read Yukio Mishima at all. My preferences in literature are very different.

Sakurai: What is your favorite writer, Tono-sensei?

Tono: When I was just starting to think about the novel, I had no idea how to write, and started by imitating the prose of Natsume Soseki (9). Have you read it?

Sakurai: I love his Heart very much. But now you probably don’t have time to read.

Tono: Right. But they often say that you need to read more, so I think about it anyway. Sakurai-san, do you study other artists’ music?

Sakurai: I’m a slob, so I’m not really up to date, so to speak. But good things still find their way to me. I can catch it on the radio when I’m driving, or hear it somewhere by accident. The youth of today like Kaze-san Fujii (10), don’t they?

Tono: Wow. A bit surprising.

Sakurai: You probably like something harsher, right?

Tono: I love King Gnu (11). Mentioned this in an interview for the monthly Bungei Shunju (12). Many were surprised that the music favored by young people and the traditional image of the Akutagawa Prize are not related.

Sakurai: King Gnu is great. I bought their CD as well. Just like that, I found out about King Gnu when I accidentally heard them. They have such an interesting lead singer.

Tono: Iguchi Satoru-san is interesting, yes. On Twitter, I would send links to [my] videos to anyone, even to the Pope himself. And when I appeared at Music Station, I stunned everyone with my descent down the stairs.

Sakurai: Showed up wearing sandals, yeah. *laughter* Do you watch a lot of TV?

Tono: From time to time. I saw your collab with Shiina Ringo-san at Music Station. “Elopers” is a great song, very powerful.

Sakurai: Really? I am very happy.

You can't lie to yourself

Sakurai: Has the third work been written yet?

Tono: Yes. The events transpire in an institution that raises people with supernatural abilities. The main character attents it along with the rest, tries to awaken superpowers in himself, but since he does not possess them, he gets no progress. This is the story I am writing. It will differ from the two previous works in meaning.

Sakurai: Is there a deadline?

Tono: I want to submit it to the editors by early next year. You, Sakurai-san, also have deadlines, right?

Sakurai: I have deadlines, of course. Release and tour dates might be pre-determined and songs should be worked on accordingly. And I will stubbornly work on them until they tell me: “That’s it, you can't put things off any longer”. However, I still try to keep within the appointed time.

Tono: Are there any serious challenges when you work?

Sakurai: It's very difficult to work when I’m drained. If you try to force something out of yourself, you get only lies, and then it turns out that you are insincere with yourself and with others. You can’t lie to yourself. But with a bit of personal experience and imagination, on the other hand, you can make very good progress.

Tono: You have to rewrite everything a lot, right?

Sakurai: Depends on the song. Sometimes I have to rewrite over and over again, and sometimes I write the first word that comes to my mind and everything is ready. Most often, some kind of shape may emerge first. How is it with you, Tono-sensei?

Tono: More often than not, I have one scene at the beginning, and I start writing based on it. At that time, I do not yet know how the story will develop, I have only scattered fragments, and as they are combined and edited, I am finally getting the feeling that the world of of this work is acquiring its finished form. By the way, I had some trouble coming up with a name for Cultivation, and I was given one piece of advice, do you recall?

Sakurai: Ah, yes, but in my opinion, it was not very good...

Tono: When I asked “How do you come up with names?”, You replied, “It should express the essence, but at the same time cover the whole thing. That word would fit the best”.

Sakurai: Wow, I put it remarkably well. And [I said that] to the future Akutagawa Prize winner, such arrogance. *laughter*

Tono: Even though I didn’t really understand how to apply this advice in practice, I still relied on it.

Sakurai: Cool title, isn’t it? Even though I said there were some disturbing moments when I was reading Cultivation for the first time, I think it read very cleanly. For example: “To my delight, I managed to look great. <…> I just wanted to be beautiful” — here, as it seemed to me, the words are very good - fresh and clear, without unnecessary embellishments.

(2020.09.19)

Sakurai Atsushi, musician. Vocalist Buck-Tick. 66 years of birth. New job: 「ABRACADABRA」

Tono Haruka, writer, winner of the Akutagawa and Bungei awards

END

[kozutenshi]

the harmonious sound of the instruments halted and the silence filled his ears as a light sheen of sweat covered his face. his accessories gleamed under the bright spotlight focused on him, his eyes sparkling underneath the shadow casted.

he hoped he looked glorious. a smile grew on his face, one may describe as lovely, one, lovesick. nevertheless, his mind had only one goal as he stood on the stage:

make music,

share it, and

show his love,

"for you."

PAMULINAWEN

— a folk song famous for its romantic lyrics. with this, people mostly sing it as a way to harana or serenade a girl before.

— the song, however, is actually about a girl with a hardened heart who doesn't bother herself with her suitor's pleads.

— some say that when people still had to cross the river to get to the other part of the land, they chanted the song quite frequently, resulting to it becoming popular among the people and a few changes in its words.

— the festival of the City of Laoag held around February to commemorate their patron saint, St. William the Hermit.

'wear something classy if you come here.'

it wasn't like him to get nervous.

but as he sat on his chair, rereading his text to you, waiting for his friends' voices and laughter to reach his ears even if they were already late for 5 minutes, he was starting to get anxious.

the night was planned very simply. fairy lights? check. the surprise detour? check. a dinner table for two? check.

it was supposed to be, until his friends looked for him and found out about his plan.

he understood that they wanted to help him, and so he did give them a chance. but, right now, as his suit keeps him warm from the chill of the air, he wished he predicted this night to go wrong for a bit.

sighing, he scrolled through his playlist, playing a different one as the other had finished. he didn't want the peace that the ocean gave.

distraction. that's what he needs.

so when he finally heard tendou's laugh echoing through the walls softly, he straightened up a bit and fixed how he looked. his friends had left you to wander around the beach house, the palm trees decorated with fairy lights and small sky lanterns.

gracefully, he appeared in front of you with a smile on his face that looks too tense to be natural, making you laugh at him.

"hey, i'm trying here." his smile was replaced by a scowl but it slowly melted to a tiny grin as you take his outstretched hand. "I know. but, it's fun teasing you."

his face warmed, his shoulders relaxing and his movements even more fluid as he led you to that spot by the laggoon, small enough to be crossed by a boat.

who was he kidding? this was you. you, who never judged him, who put up with his attitude that tended to be sour.

he would even say that he trusts you with his own life; well, that is if you won't be taking it.

"well then, don't trip nor please don't be scared. i promise i know what i'm doing."

he let your hand go to steady himself in the boat perfectly, making him look like an expert, before taking his black suit off and draping it on your seat. he then guided you into the shifting vessel, and though it was a bit wobbly, you managed to stand and sit in.

he smiled warmly, a silent gesture to reassure you, before tendou removes the rope connecting it to the dock. he bid the two of you with fake sniffles and tears, waving a handkerchief as if he was the parent of one of you two. this made you and semi share a look before laughing.

the stars twinkled overhead, dusted with gold and silver specks before it slowly disappeared, the cave swallowing the two of you up.

"semi? where are we going?"

"you'll see. well, for the mean time, you can open the lantern next to your feet if you want."

and so you did. the water was clear as the sound of water on the walls of the cave filled your ears. it was eerie if not for the calming expression on semi's face, something you didn't expect to see on him, and his soft humming echoing.

reaching the end of the cave, you reached another beach where he docked the boat and led you underneath a willow tree in the greenhouse that you had just entered out of curiosity.

"i know that i'll never grow old with you."

his voice made you turn to him as he softly sang the song. in his mind, all he thought of was pleasing you with a song, of making you smile.

he was only thinking of you.

you recognized the song: Monster from the movie the two of you had watched about Marceline and Princess Bubblegum from Adventure Time. as he sang full of love and emotions, it made you want to tear up then and there.

"you're the pink in my cheeks, and i love that it means i'm a little bit soft.."

it was his teasing smile that made you stop. you won't give in; not now, that is. "you're gonna cry now?"

"no? why would i?"

"aw, and here i thought i'll see your tears tonight."

"dream on."

he let his guitar lean on its old position, careful not to let it fall, before sitting in front of you. "so, are you gonna take me as your boyfriend now?"

"what makes you say that?"

"well, you came. and uhm, you let me hold your hand? i- uhm-"

he became a stuttering, blushing mess in front of you as he frantically searched for answers. were those normal? did he jump to conclusions too fast? he was panicked inside, his insecurities slowly creeping up.

the look on his face made you pause. "you know.. i was just asking.." your face was too warm for your liking, your blood roaring in your ears from your nerves.

"i just think.. i'm too obvious.. and uhm.. yeah."

"so- you're saying-"

his eyes went wide as he jumped up happily. it reminded you of his expression whenever he scores in his games before, of how he smiles after a performance; it reminded you of youth, the past, the present and the future in one.

you imagined seeing it every day, the spark in his eyes, the smile, his face; the feeling his arms as they wrapped around you abruptly out of excitement, love, and the warmth it carries.

your face grew even warmer as he pressed a lingering kiss on your forehead, murmuring sweet words that your comprehension hadn't caught. your brain was muddled already, and all you wanted was to sink in his arms, but as he detached himself from you, letting ushijima walk out of nowhere in a tux, serving your food, you were brought back to reality.

"so, how did you convince the team to help?"

"i didn't."

a grateful look passed on his face before he continued. "they volunteered. well, the plan started minutes late but it's alright."

"as long as you're here."

and there underneath the stars, the drifting clouds, the moon and the team gazed down upon you two, wishing things to turn out great as goshiki starts playing the violin softly in the background.

TRAVELLERS: @doodleniella @kenmakodzu @lyzzklm @mfcassandra @oikaw-ugh @seijohlogy @thesecondapplepienation

#semi eita #hq semi #semi x reader #eita semi #semi drabble #semi eita x you #semi eita x reader #semi eita x y/n #eita x reader #eita semi imagine #haikyuu eita #eita semi x reader #hq fanfic #hq x y/n #hq x you #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #⎙—files!

[starlit-serenade]

Photoshoot

📸 Summary: As a growing small photographer with friends in . . . places, you managed to get an hour long photoshoot with ONEUS's dancer, Yeo Hwanwoong. A dancer who you have admired from a distance for a long time.

📸 Word Count: 1,847 words

📸 Pairing: Reader x Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader, Photographer!Reader; Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong);

📸 Rated: E / Warnings: None / Genre: GenderNeutral!Reader; Fluff (?); Platonic (?);

You gaze out the window of the bus, phone in hand as you ride to the RBW building, carrying your camera equipment in a large, heavy briefcase.

You've never taken any photography with any RBW artists before. Actually, you've never taken any photography for any K-Pop idols before. You've helped out with some drama and magazine photoshoots, with actors and small dancers, and have even published some nature photography and photography of back-up dancers, but you'd never worked with any actual music artists before.

Through a friend you have, that works at RBW, you managed to get permission to do a small photoshoot with the main dancer of ONEUS, Yeo Hwanwoong.

And Hwanwoong is a dancer you've admired for a while. His dancing is amazing to watch. He has a sort of intense yet graceful style, and is always on point. His confidence and his elegance are both things you are excited to see and hopefully photograph today. Ever since you started photographing dancers, you'd daydreamed about photographing Yeo Hwanwoong.

You have five minutes of walking left to do after the bus, so with your bag of equipment in hand, you make your way down the sidewalk, humming some songs to yourself.

You walk into the building. Your friend is standing in the lobby, smiling. He walks over to you, gives you a tight hug, gives you a visitor's badge, and leads you down the hall.

"You're a bit early. Are you excited?" he asks, ushering you into the elevator. "You get to photograph Yeo Hwanwoong!"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, I am excited. Thank you for helping me with this opportunity. But I swear, it's just a photoshoot. It's not any different from the other dancers I've photographed. It's not like I'm partnering with RBW long-term or anything."

"Except for that he's an idol," he says, grinning from ear to ear. The elevator stops, rings, and the doors open into the next hallway. You follow him out of the hallway.

"Well, now you're scaring me," you say. "Is he nice or not?"

Your friend stops at a door on the left, a semi-transparent door. "Oh, he's a sweetheart. Nothing less than kind and friendly." He pushes the door open and ushers you inside. "Maybe in the future, you could partner with RBW and do more photoshoots with the members. You can start setting up your stuff now," he says, checking his phone. "Yeo Hwanwoong should be here within the next ten minutes."

You nod, setting down your equipment. Your friend winks at you.

"Good luck," he says, before leaving, closing the door as he goes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down. You're both nervous and excited. You're nervouscited. 

You stand near your camera, which set on a tripod. You're adjusting the lighting of the room.. You keep glancing around the space in front of you and at the camera next to you, trying to imagine what gorgeous shots you might get today.

You hear a click behind you, the door opening and then closing. You quickly turn around to face the door in surprise, and you recognize him instantly.

Yeo Hwanwoong is standing there, his hands behind his back with a bright smile on his face. He's wearing a loose white button-up shirt and black jeans. the way his hair is done makes him look a bit like a prince.

You quickly stand up straight and bow in greeting. "Hello, Mr. Yeo. I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

"Oh, you don't need to be formal with me," he says. You nod. "You can just call me Hwanwoong. And uh, I know who you are."

You knit your brows and tilt your head curiously. "You do?"

"Well, when they told me you wanted to do a photoshoot with me, I was curious. So I looked you up," he explains. "I really admire your work. And I don't mean the work that's published in magazines. I mean your work. You can really feel the emotions and intentions in them."

You blink in surprise, a bit flustered. You're still beyond shocked that Yeo Hwanwoong of ONEUS looked at your photography, as well as really looked into your photos and analyzed them. Your online portfolio. Your photoshoots. You can feel your cheeks heating up, and you clear your throat.

"That's very kind of you to say, Mr. Yeo." You nod your head respectfully. You're sure that your voice is shaking from excitement. "Shall we get to the photoshoot?"

Hwanwoong nods and chuckles gently. "Right. You asked me to prepare a dance routine, am I correct?"

You nod. "Yes. I've done some dance photography and I really love it. I think photography can capture a lot more than just the dance, especially with really passionate dancers. Which is why I wanted to photograph you.  Sorry, that sounded cheesy."

"No, it's fine," Hwanwoong says, grinning. "I've seen your photos, I think I know what you mean.

You nod. "Yeah. Um. I'll be taking photos from all sorts of angles and you will have to go through the routine several times. Please let me know if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"Of course," he says. "I've done photoshoots before."

You nod. "Right. Uh. Yeah." You're nervous. This is your first time photographing an idol, so you don't know exactly how to handle this.

"Don't be so nervous," he says. "Imagine we're friends. You don't have to be so formal. I know that, as an idol, I can be intimidating. But I'm not scary, I promise." He smiles brightly, and you can feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. You nod and look away.

You and Hwanwoong have been taking photos for a good twenty-five minutes. After you took some initial photos of him, standing in a starting position, you had him start his routine. You would be lying if you didn't get all fuzzy and shy and flustered whenever he makes eye contact with the camera or winks at you playfully after making a flirtatious joke.

"Where would you like me to look?" Hwanwoong asks. "Eyes closed? Eyes forward? The camera? Your pretty face?"

He winks, and you can feel your cheeks heating up. You look away and clear your throat.

"Let's start with eyes forward, if that's okay," you mumble. "And we can move on to you looking at the camera later. If that's alright with you."

As the accompanying music plays in the background, Hwanwoong dances elegantly. You take photos from several angles. When he goes through the routine once, you take photos from a lower angle. And when he goes through a second time, you take them from the side. You make sure to capture his elegant movements, the way his arms stretch out and his wrists are bent.

"Great," you say, clicking through the photos to review them quickly. "Let me quickly adjust the lighting, and then I'll have you looking at the camera. Does that sound good?"

"Sounds great!" He smiles brightly, and you can feel the corners of your lips raising. His smile is so contagious.aq

You walk over to the lamp and adjust its position, moving it to the side and angling it so it'll be shining right on the spot where Hwanwoong will cross over, a place where he will be in a pose that you need to capture in a specific light. You know it'll be stunning.

As you start adjusting your camera a bit, clicking through some of the previous photos to figure out what did and didn't work, you can feel a pair of eyes watching you. You ignore it, Hwanwoong staring at you. Perhaps he's just curious about photography.

You move to kneel down and point your camera at Hwanwoong. He's still staring at you, though his eyes are distant, almost like he's staring through you. He has a soft smile on his face. Not a creepy one. More like a daydreamy smile. He looks more like a Disney prince than you could have imagined.

You nod to him to signal that you're ready for him to start his routine, but he simply slowly blinks.

"Mr. Yeo?" you ask. Hwanwoong nods softly, but doesn't say anything. You clear your throat and speak louder.

"Mr. Yeo, can you please either focus on the dance or the camera and not at me?" you say. Hwanwoong blinks, broken from his trance and smiles that annoyingly adorable smile that you'd spent all morning trying to ignore.

"Of course," he says, resuming his original position. "Ready?" he asks. You give him a thumbs up, and he gives you a quick wink before starting the routine.

You snap photos throughout. His intense gaze, staring into the camera, makes you feel a bit flustered. You try to focus hard on taking photos, Hwanwoong's powerful stare is distracting, causing you to miss a couple great shots.

After he stops, you smile.

"That was great," you say, nodding. "Could you please go through it one more time, exactly as you just did? I need to retake some photos."

"Sure!" he says, smiling brightly. You're very shocked by the switch between his powerful, intense self when he's performing, and his pleasant, cheerful attitude otherwise. He goes from an elegant tiger to a flower petal in the blink of an eye.

After a few more minutes, your time starts to come to a close. Hwanwoong offers to help you pack up your stuff--there isn't much, but he's sweet.

"Thank you for being willing to do this shoot," you say after the end. "I'm really grateful for this opportunity. I will have these photos edited, and I'll be in conversation with the company for publishing stuff."

"Great!" Hwanwoong says. "Thank you for reaching out. It was an honor to work with you, and I had a great time."

You nod and head for the doorway when Hwanwoong calls out.

"Hey, Y/L/N?" he asks. You stop and raise an eyebrow curiously. Hwanwoong walks over and grins nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. "I would love to do another photoshoot with you at some point in the future. Would you be willing to possibly . . . exchange phone numbers?"

You swear you almost faint on the spot. Exchanging phone numbers? With Yeo Hwanwoong? From ONEUS?

"I--uh--well, I--yes!" you stutter nervously. "I mean--yes! Of course!"

Hwanwoong grins mischievously and laughs a bit. He must have noticed he got you a bit flustered and surprised, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he reaches for his back pocket and takes out his phone. "Great! I can tell you my number first, or you can tell me yours."

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