#(which is weird because I don’t like listening to music when I read or write otherwise)

[waugh-bao]

[obbystars]

Hi- it's my first time ever requesting so sorry if it's hard to understand-

Could you please write a fic where the reader is somehow allowed to bring an ipod because it helps them calm down. When they reach Sebastian he just hears the music through the earphones which is something that he used to listen to before going under water-.

And it could be fluff or some ?

I'm sorry if this comes off weird but I always struggle when it comes to explaining my ideas 😭 (also English is not my first language ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

Hope you have a nice day/evening/night when you read this!

(Hey! No worries! Don’t worry, I think I’ve got the idea and I totally get not knowing how to explain stuff. Huh, perhaps it’s luck that they managed to sneak or even snag an ipod off of a guardsman’s body. That seems like the most probable as I doubt Urbanshade would let a prisoner bring that in. But then again, it’s not a weapon. It doesn’t exactly fit in the criteria of detonating the PDG.)

(Also lol peek the new layout color as I went through Pressure’s badges. Found a neat badge with Sebastian ans its title referencing MatPat!)

NOTES: Sebastian Solace x GN!Reader / You loot a dead body / Near-death experience and actual death later (not detailed) / Reader has Sebastian’s document, but nothing too specific is mentioned / Angst if you squint at the end / At one point I was looking at Pandemonium’s document and the app closed me out without saving

Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune

Dying and coming back to life had its ups and downs. One thing you’re not too sure of is how much time exactly passes as every experience back to where you started always has surprises. Maybe you go back in time, but that wouldn’t make sense as a certain someone remembers you every time. Hell, he’s even there to discuss your death with you in whatever world you’re brought to after dying. Maybe your body is just brought back to before you entered the submarine to Hadal Blacksite. That could make sense if it weren’t for the increased security. Urbanshade had to have noticed by now that one of their prisoners seems to be able to cheat death itself.

That doesn’t matter right now, you keep reminding yourself. As long as they’re still unaware.

Strangely enough, in one of your lives, you encountered a dead guardsman. It startled you at first, but tried to continue on and resist the urge to see if he had anything on him. That was until you heard music coming from him. You can’t fight the urge anymore as you approached him and searched where it was coming from. An ipod that was still functional, and earphones. Strange.

You looked around and checked each corner of the room, trying to see if there were any cameras. Surely they won’t mind if you picked this up, right? It’s not a weapon, so they have no reason to trigger the detonation. Right? It’s not like they saw you pick it up.

This guardsman definitely had a good taste in music, although a bit random. You’ll shuffle it for now and see where it’ll go from there. You pop one earphone on and try your best to hide it from sight when you do eventually run into cameras.

Once you opened the next door, you suddenly hear distant screaming. You quickly ran and hid in a locker, putting on the other earphone and turning the volume all the way up. You hoped it was enough to drown out the sound of the angler passing by. The screams the variants emit often left your ears ringing, the pink one especially since there was no warning prior to it approaching. That one’s scream was louder than the others and it never failed to instill so much fear in you that you briefly forget to hide in a locker.

Once the angler passes and knocks out the lights, you slowly crawl out of the locker. The ipod and earphones were, surprisingly, still functional. You remember reading their document during one of your deaths. All of the anglers emit some sort of EMP equivalent that results in short circuiting all electronics, sometimes malfunctioning too. So why were these still operational?

You shake your head, trying to not question it. It’s better not to anyway.

While the anglers screams were too loud, the silence they create once they pass is also nerve wracking. You took one earphone off and pulled out your flashlight to ease yourself a bit, but quickly shine it away once you hear growling and a glowing white face appears.

It was standing right next to the door. Worst of all, you need a keycard. You don’t have a code breacher on you. You kept the light lowered so you know where you’re stepping as you walk around trying to find where the keycard is. Not in this drawer, not in here either, no… It’s on a table next to a computer.

You came back to the door and can faintly see the creature still standing there. Despite the music playing, you couldn’t calm down. Still, you pushed yourself to approach the door and get out. The face the creature created stares down at you as you got a little too close, but then it suddenly eyes the keycard in your hand and sees where exactly you’re reaching. The face disappears, and so do they as the door opens.

You let out a sigh of relief and carry on to the next room. There were some batteries in a drawer. Your flashlight was likely to run out of juice soon. That was a relatively normal room, so you moved onto the next one. The vent door off to the side tips over and you can faintly hear his voice.

“Psst! In here,”

You smile and crawl through the vent to meet up with a familiar friendly face.

“Welcome back, friend,” he greets with a smile.

You waved at him as you stood up. Your eyes instantly lock onto the medical kit as that’s something you are in need of, and you’ll still have some data to spare. What else do you need… He has a lantern, code breacher, hand-cranked flashlight… You don’t hear the thumping noise of something else crawling through the vent and you don’t realize it until-

“HEY!!” Sebastian yelled.

You turned around just as the wall dweller opened its jaw, but it didn’t get a chance to do anything as Sebastian punched it into the wall. You yelped and fell back, pushing yourself closer to the table beside him. Sebastian had only beat it enough until it crawled away through the vent. It probably won’t get very far.

He turns to you, a little surprised to see you so frightened, “You really gotta start watching your own back. I’m not punching every one of those things for you,”

“S-Sorry, I was a bit distracted…” You stand up.

“I’m surprised you managed to get this far if you couldn’t hear that thing coming,”

You looked down, knowing exactly why you didn’t hear it. The music is still playing, and the one earphone you had on was blocking the sound of the wall dweller approaching. You were a bit shaken up, but the music does calm you down a bit. Sebastian watches you as you walk over to his tail to try and make a final decision, but he swears he hears something.

“What is that sound…?” He looks around for a moment before his eyes land on you, still trying to choose what to buy. He spots something in your ear and leans down, “Hey, what’s that you got there?”

You turn to him as he suddenly leans closer to you, his head right next to where the earphone is.

“I know that song. Is that Metallica?”

You stare up at him in shock, “You know Metallica?”

“Well obviously, you know I was just a regular human, right? You have my document for god’s sake,” he retorts, “How’d you even get an ipod of all things in here?”

“Oh, it’s not mine. I got it from a dead guardsman,”

Sebastian gives you a suspicious look, “I thought Urbanshade doesn’t allow their prisoners to loot dead bodies, armed ones at that. You could end up dead, but seeing as they haven’t detonated your diving gear yet, I’m guessing you weren’t spotted,”

“I guess not. There wasn’t a camera where I got this from, and I made sure to hide it from the cameras in the other rooms,”

“I’m curious to see just how far you’ll get with this thing. You couldn’t even hear the wall dweller approaching,” he crosses his arms, “I’m not sure if you’re bold or just stupid. Are you sure this risk is worth it?”

You can’t deny that he’s got a point. It gets in the way of hearing things you NEED to hear. Still, music brings you comfort so that’s what you tell him. You’ll only have both on when an angler is coming to block out their scream as they pass.

“Mhmm, and what will you do about Z-367? You know, the one they named Pandemonium? What then?”

Shit, he’s actually got you cornered there. You just sighed knowing full well you can’t just sit that one out and wait for it to pass, “Then I’ll just have to deal with it the usual way. I can still hear them through the music,”

Sebastian glares at you for a minute before he sighs, “Jeez, you really want to keep that thing on you, huh? Alright, I’m not stopping you. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you though,”

You smiled, “I’ll just say I knew what I was getting myself into and I’ll face the consequences,”

“Oh look at that, someone is finally taking responsibility for their own actions. It’s shocking how that’s so rare nowadays,”

You manage to pick up on his sarcastic tone and laughed. It was always fun talking with him. By the end of it, you picked up the code breacher with the medical kit he had, as well as a few batteries since you still had more data.

Upon your next unfortunate death, you realized your still have the ipod and earphones. Both were still fully functional, somehow, but you weren’t complaining. You quickly went into the submarine and waited for a few minutes before taking it out to actually scroll through the list of songs. You didn’t exactly pay attention to what was being played while you were there. Soon enough, you did find songs from Metallica which reminded you of the conversation you had with Sebastian.

You never thought he’d be into that kind of music. Maybe you’ll lend the ipod to him when you meet up with him in his shop again. Surely the repeated morse code on that radio has gotten old by now. You doubt you’ll last long without it though, but Sebastian wasn’t wrong when he said it hinders your ability to even hear the wall dwellers. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to give it up for a bit.

Once you managed to find Sebastian’s hideout again, you took off both earphones as you approached him, “Hey, you wanna hold onto this for me?”

You hold up the ipod and Sebastian gives you an odd look, “And you want to give this to me because?”

“I thought about what you said last time. I mean, I’ve made it pretty far without this before, so I don’t think I need it that much,”

He continues to stare at you before taking it from your hands. He inspects it, scrolling through the list of songs on it.

“Wow some of these suck,”

“I think some are pretty good,” you shrugged. You walked over to his tail to see what he has now, “Oh finally, a flashlight,”

Sebastian lowers the ipod and turns to you with a smirk, holding out his third limb, “Better pay up,”

“Yeah yeah, I know,”

Before you left, you left the earphones with him as well. It won’t do much good for you if it’s not gonna block out sound anyway, and it’s not like Sebastian will have much use of it either.

Some time has passed since you left the ipod with him. Sebastian had set it down on the desk next to him as music is being played. He remembers doing college work while listening to music all those years ago. Part of him now understands why you said it comforts you. Maybe it even allowed you to focus as it did with him.

Until you come back to eventually bring it along with you again, he’ll listen to the songs on the list for hours.

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.1. how it happened:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1.2k

➴ author’s note: welcome everyone!! as i promised, here’s the start to our fuck buddies jack ‘n soph series<3 hope u love them as much as i do!

—♡

IT all started as a joke.

Not your career, no, that was very serious. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe how big you’d gotten. Seriously, it was like magic. People now paid to see your concerts, asked to take pictures with you and related to your songs, your situations.

How crazy was that?

But that isn’t the main joke.

It all started a few weeks after the release of your single, Nonsense. You were alone in your home studio, doing some writing and recording a few ad-libs for your new upcoming album— all songs dedicated to your shitty, fucking cheater of an ex, yeah— when Grace, your best friend and manager, barged in with her phone on her hands.

“Jesus,” you said, putting your hand over your heart. “Don’t you know how to knock? You literally scared the shit out of me, dumbass.”

“Knocking is for the weak. Also, I need to show you this. Ain’t no time for knocking.”

She sat on the chair beside you and showed you her phone. It was some kind of TikTok but even if you tried to understand what it was, you couldn’t.

“So?” Grace asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Hum,” you said, sounding uncertain. “Cool video! Are you leaving me for a TikTok career?”

She laughed out loud. “What?! You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” she showed you her phone again. “This, my love, is the New Jersey Devils account.”

“People who praise the devil like my songs? Didn’t see that coming…”

“Sophia, don’t you fucking tell me you don’t know who they are!” Grace furrowed her eyebrows.

“Hum… I do?” You lied.

She made a weird sound, which sounded a lot like a frustrated scream.

“They’re hockey players, they are in the NHL, National Hockey League. And this video alone has three million likes. And why, you ask me, little puppy,” Grace started using her theater kid voice and you rolled your eyes.

“Probably because they’re hot, I don’t know?”

“I thought that too. But then, I went to check the comments, and all of them were talking about your songs. So I watched the video and I realised, half of the team, grown ass men, were listening to your songs!”

Raising your eyebrows in shock, you watched the video again. And Grace was right. It was one of those “what are you listening to?” videos, but with a bunch of men wearing suits. And at least half of them said one of your songs. Mostly Nonsense, Espresso, Read Your Mind, and, shockingly, one of them even said one of your oldest songs.

Apart from that, the video’s caption said “should we make a Sophia Montenegro x NJ Devils collab??” and, to your absolute surprise, more than a half of the comments said “yes, collab, please!”

Which made you laugh. You were used to all sorts of people listening to your music. Kids, teens, adults, even old people sometimes, but hockey players? Those big ass men who liked to beat each other up during the games?

“That’s new, huh.”

“Apparently, people went crazy over the fact that they listen to your songs. And that’s not even the best part,” Grace squirmed. “Their marketing team reached out to your marketing team,” she pointed to herself. “And they asked you to perform at one of their charity dinners next month!”

You both yelled and jumped out of your seats to hug each other and jump around— being careful with her new Goddess braids. You were so grateful to have someone like Grace to help you out.

“This is, like, a huge thing for you, honey,” Grace teared up a little bit. She cried almost every time you got a new job. “They want to set up a meeting with you, nothing too fancy. They said something about the end of the hockey season and whatever that means, they want you in it.”

“That’s awesome, right?” You smiled. “I’m certain that you said yes already but I’m still going to ask you. Did you?”

“Duh, ‘course I did. You have a meeting with,” she looked at her phone again, reading something. “Shanon Anand tomorrow morning.”

“I love you, Grace Morgan.” You whispered, looking at the woman in front of you, your heart feeling full and warm.

“I love you too, Sophia Montenegro. Let’s rock some hockey boys.”

—♡

TURNS out that Shanon Anand is a very beautiful woman, with Indian features and a smile that would make any dentist proud.

“We are very pleased to have you here, Mrs. Montenegro.” She had a bit of an accent and it was so cute.

You smiled. “Thank you. It’s an honor, really. And please, call me Sophia.”

“Alright, Sophia it is,” she smiled back. “So, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Hockey world but we’re currently walking towards the end of the seven month season.”

“I have to be honest with you, all I know about hockey is that they skate on the ice and beat each other up. That’s about it, I fear.” You felt your face getting warm.

“It’s alright, dear, no one’s going to ask you questions about Power Plays or penalties,” Shanon laughed and you sighed, thankful. Interviews were something you actually enjoyed doing but answering questions you didn’t really know the answer sucked. “We will hold a charity gala next month, and Grace told us you are available?”

“I am, yeah,” you opened your planner, looking at your summer schedule. “I do have to be in California by the second week of April to perform at Coachella but before that, I’m free.”

“You would be needed in the last week of April, on the 30th. Is that okay?”

“I think so, yes,” you nodded. “Do you have a preference for a performance or?”

Shanon grabbed a huge binder and opened it. “Actually, we do have a few requests, I hope you and your team don’t mind them,” you nodded, grabbing a pen just in case you needed to write anything. “First things first, we’d really like it if you kept it all PG,” she smiled, looking embarrassed.

You laughed, nodding with your head. “I expected it already. Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep my dirty mouth closed.”

“Perfect, thank you. Besides that, we’d request for at least three songs, and if you could maybe sing an acoustic version of them? It’s a night event and the vibes we’re going for are like, jazz club? Sorry if it sounds confusing, we’re still working on the details.”

“Acoustic? Yeah, ‘course. Do you have any songs in mind?”

“No, we thought it’d be better if you chose them. What suits your voice better and all of that.” Shanon ran her hands through her hair and blinked twice in a row. She looked stunning, but tired.

“Alright, I’ll think of a few options.” You nodded again.

“At the end of it, we’d like to take a picture of you with a Devils jersey, if you don’t mind?” She sounded hopeful.

“I don’t, really. I’m fine with it.”

“Perfect!”

The meeting didn’t last long after that and your mind was working really fast to try to have everything perfect. You still had more than a month to prepare so you knew everything was going to be fine.

At least you hoped so.

[foxaftershocks]

Hi!! I just wanna say first that I absolutely adore ur writing :) and I've literally never done this before, tbh, so I'm so sry if I've done anything wrong or smth. :)

But I wanted to suggest maybe a reader thats also an engineer and scientist for the Ghostbusters, who Lars always considered less able than him since reader was quite quiet, and would run their expermients in peace, never rly interacting with people. Until one day reader is talking to lucky or phoebe or smth, and goes off on a tangent when talking abt smth they're working on, and it's a very sudden realisation to him that reader is actually rly knowledgeable, that their intelligence is much greater than he anticipated.

Totally fine if u don't wanna write it, remember to take care of urself!! <3

I always take care of myself <3 you did nothing wrong, a totally perfect request. I hope you like it

You were sitting across the room from Lars, absorbed in your work, headphones on as your head nodded in time to the beat of whatever music you were listening to. He hadn’t heard you arrive that morning. Not an unusual situation. He never heard much from you ever.

You seemed to be so unaware of his gaze on you, watching as your hands moved, fingers typing, adjusting your equipment, writing something down in a notebook. That was something he’d noticed. You kept paper notes.

Insane. Absolutely nuts.

Your head tilted up and he realised he’d been caught watching. His nose wrinkled and he looked back to his own work. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t busy. He had enough to get on with.

There was no reason for you to be there. He kept trying to figure out what it was you did, what you contributed to the lab. You kept to yourself and no one else could tell him what it was you did. You preferred to work alone, and while he could empathise with that as someone who didn’t love working in a team, he did enjoy leading a team of researchers. You’d never agreed to joining him.

He had to assume it’s because you knew you weren’t up to the task.

When he next looked up, you were gone. The workstation was empty and there was nothing to indicate where you’d gone. He couldn’t imagine you were rushing off to tell someone of a great discovery.

You’d never had one before now.

It wasn’t that he felt contempt for you. Surely there was a reason you’d been hired. He just thought everyone should be on his level and you just weren’t. The proof was in the output.

Stretching, arms above his head, he figured it was time for another cup of tea, the one he’d made earlier having gotten cold as he lost himself in his work. Taking the mug, he sauntered towards the small kitchen set up in the back corner.

“So if I can just figure out where the spectrometer has gone then I think I’ll be back on track.”

He paused outside the door. That was your voice. At least, he was pretty sure it was. From the few times he’d heard it he thought it probably was.

There was something there in your voice, not something he’d heard from you before. It was close to excitement. Lingering out of sight, he continued to listen. He certainly wasn’t about to offer the information that he had the spectrometer you were looking for. It would be put to better work in his possession.

“You really think you’ll be able to figure it out?” That would be Lucky. He didn’t realise the two of you talked. Lucky was meant to be his intern, not yours. He didn’t know why it rankled him so much.

“Sure. I mean, Nadeem keeps letting me study him to figure out where the source of his magic is so… I can’t see why I wouldn’t,” you said, “oh but you remember when I hooked him up to the EEG machine?”

“Yeah. You got those weird readings, right?” Lucky prompted.

“Right and I spent hours staring at them trying to work it out. And then inspiration struck. So I thought maybe there was some kind of electrical field going on. Which would be crazy because usually we don’t think the two are linked. But fire conducts electricity and so can humans. So what if the magic is connected to ions? Seems simple, right? Only, the electrical charge usually comes from the gas around the flame rather than the flame itself. So does he actually manipulate the gas? Or, is it this pyrotron subatomic particle we haven’t found yet? I mean, in order to prove that one I have to find quarks in isolation and I think that would rock the science community more than proving the science behind pyrokinesis,” you said, almost all in one breath.

It was easily the most he’d ever heard you say before.

“Because in order to prove that I’d need to show that Nadeem is manipulating pyrotrons with psychic powers, probably through the electric signals in his brain, and making them hit isolated quarks, which don’t exist so… I’m back to looking at electricity in flames because clearly it’s to do with the electrical activity in his brain,” you said, with a sigh at the end.

Lars felt his breath catch. There was so much going on in your brain, so many thoughts, so many theories, and you were investigating something he hadn’t even considered looking at. Maybe that’s why you always worked alone. Your projects were on things no one considered researching. You looked at the world differently.

It was… refreshing.

He’d thought you’d ket silent because you knew you couldn’t keep up with the rest of the scientists. Instead, it looked as if you kept silent because your research was so different from everyone else’s. They were so focused on ghosts. You were trying to understand everything in its entirety.

He felt dumbstruck. Everything he thought he knew was wrong. It wasn’t usual for him and he felt on the backfoot. It was like you’d been lying to him but for that to be true you would have had to have talked to him. This was so much worse. This was him lying to himself.

You were so much smarter than he’d thought and it left him questioning so many things.

Walking through the door, he felt combative, like he wanted to start a fight. Your voice died as he did, eyes widening when you saw him. He offered a tight smile, pouring out the cold tea into the sink. He glanced over his shoulder, finding you turning away.

“I’ll see you later,” you mumbled to Lucky.

You slipped out of the room, not even offering him another look. He scrubbed at the mug, not wanting to bother making another cup, taking his frustration out on it.

“Rough day?” Lucky asked, sliding up to him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.

“No sweat,” she said, “but maybe don’t glare at people when you enter a room. It sure does clear it.”

He didn’t have a response to that, refusing to be shamed by a teenager. He left the mug on the rack to dry and walked out of the room, lips pursed, trying to work out how to feel about everything. He wasn’t used to feeling stupid and yet that’s where he was. He’d judged you because he never heard you talk. Because you kept to yourself. Because you didn’t feel the need to show off like the others around the lab did.

You were sitting in his sight again, the headphones back in place over your ear, pen tapping your notebook in time with your music. You didn’t even look up when he sat down, staring at you. If he allowed himself to admit it, you were lovely to look at. Even trapped in a world of your own, there was something there that he found pleasing. You were soft, like the worries of the world had never curved your shoulders, and your wide eyed gaze left him feeling like there was no pretence. You had never lied. He’d just been a fool.

He stood, hands already grasping the spectrometer he’d stashed in the storage behind his desk. trying to project confidence, he sauntered over with it. Placing it down in front of you, he waited a moment for you to notice. Your gaze dragged up to him and once again he was struck by how lovely your face was. You were slow to tug he headphones off, leaving them hanging around your neck.

“I heard you were looking for this,” he said.

You looked down at the machine in front of you then back up to him. There was a slight curve to your lips, an almost smile marred with a hint of confusion. Your eyelashes fluttered and you tilted your head down, looking back to the spectrometer.

“Thank you,” you said, voice sweet.

It was a sudden thought that he could probably listen to you talk for hours. Not that he’d ever be offered the chance.

“And uh, if you ever need help or want to talk through anything.” His hand came up, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn’t felt this awkward since his university days, “I’m just over there. I don’t know if you know. You seem to keep to yourself. So maybe you don’t want the interruption. But yeah, I’m just over there if you need anything.”

Christ, he was rambling. It wasn’t like you were the first pretty girl he’d ever talked to. He didn’t even have a crush on you. What was wrong with him today?

“I’m sure you’re too busy to help me,” you replied, voice quiet and far more put together than him, “you’re always working on something.”

“Oh,” he said, shoulders deflating. You were being polite but of course you didn’t want his help. Especially when you seemed to be a genius in your own right and more than capable of being brilliant without his input.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But you’re working on important things and I don’t want to bother you with my stuff. You’re probably working on some new weapon that will save someone’s life or something. My stuff is pretty silly in comparison.” Your head was bowed and he wished he could see the expression in your eyes.

“All science is important,” he said.

“No, I know but you know, my stuff isn’t saving the world like yours so, I don’t want to take time away from that,” you said, voice growing quieter the further along you went.

“I’m always happy to help,” he said, hoping it would be enough.

Your eyes darted up to him and he saw panic there. He took a step back, reeling from the look. He knew he wasn’t always the friendliest guy but this was a not the kind of reaction he ever expected from his words, especially when they were meant to be nice. He took another step back.

“Right, well, I’ll stop bothering you,” he said.

Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he wandered back to his own station, shoulders curved forward, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Other than ignore you, he couldn’t think of anything you would know about. It’s not as if his thoughts were broadcast over the tannoy system.

Only he hadn’t really been ignoring you, had he? He’d noticed you enough to form an opinion. He watched you. He’d grown used to your habits. He thought about you. Earlier that day he’d been watching you. There was no way he could pretend like you had been a non-entity in his life.

When he looked up at you again, your head dipped down as if you’re been looking at him just a moment ago. He found a flutter in his stomach, like a butterfly taking flight. The thought of you watching him was pleasing. Unless it was because you were wary of him and felt you had to keep an eye on him.

Finally taking the chance, he went to make himself another cup of tea, if only to try and ease you again. Maybe his presence made you uncomfortable. He didn’t like the thought that he made you uncomfortable.

He decided perhaps to keep his distance for a while.

A few days and he stayed away. He didn’t try to engage you in conversation, allowing himself to watch you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. The more attention he paid, the more he realised exactly how wrong he’d been. You kept to yourself, but you were confident in what you were doing. Something had alighted in him, the flame fanned by your confidence. Someone so capable at science was a turn on. He hadn’t expected that. He should have. But he hadn’t.

And he should have expected to hear you in the kitchen again.

“I just find him really intimidating,” you said, just through the doorway.

“Why?” Lucky laughed.

“He’s so smart and I know you’re going to make fun of me for this, but he’s really handsome. I’ve never been good around smart pretty people,” you said.

He lent closer, wanting to hear more. He didn’t know who you were talking about and the thought someone else in the lab was receiving such compliments made him feel disgruntled.

“Just talk to him,” Lucky said, “he’s not that scary.”

“I can’t,” you whined, “I get all tongue tied around him and he offered to help me and I just… I totally put my foot in it.”

Who else had been offering you help? He would hunt them down and make it clear to stay away from you. Or, no, that would just make you more scared of him. He had to gentle dissuade them from helping you.

“Yeah, trust me, he’s done that plenty of times,” Lucky snorted, “seriously, just talk to him again. Two awkward nerds deserve each other.”

You gave a small chuckle and he could imagine the soft smile on you face, small, underfed, and yet still there.

“I didn’t think he even know I existed,” you eventually said.

“Look, Pinfield is awkward and not always nice. But it sounds like at the very least he’s never outright insulted you. That’s more than Dan over in R&D can say,” Lucky said.

Pinfield. He was Pinfield. You were talking about him.

“Yeah, well, you crush on guys who actually give you the time of day. I crush on the silent guy who’s science is brilliant but who couldn’t be bothered with so much as a hello,” you said.

That wasn’t true, was it? He’d offered you help. And then gone back to not talking to you at all. He’d gone about this all wrong.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you,” you said.

“No, you should take it out on him.”

This was met with silence before Lucky’s laughter burst out, loud and long and he could inly imagine the look on your face. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy… He was sure it would be… Well, he was very open to it if the chance arose.

He slipped away to mull over what he’d overheard. He intimidated you. Because you had a crush on him. And you thought he didn’t like you in any way, that he didn’t even notice you.

Yeah, he’d fucked that one up. No one but himself to blame.

He paid attention for when you returned to your work station, across the other side of the room, quiet and focused. And beautiful. How hadn’t he thought that before? Or rather, how hadn’t he noticed it?

He was so caught up in his own assumptions about you he hadn’t taken the time to notice. He cursed his past self for being so caught up in his own ego to notice what was sitting right under his nose.

Steeling himself, he rose and made his way over to you. He loitered across the bench from you. You were still listening to music and hadn’t seemed to notice him. Tapping his finger on your notebook, he tried to get your attention. You looked up, startled, eyes widening when you laid eyes on him.

“I was thinking of going out for lunch and was wondering if you wanted to join me,” he said, trying to sound confident but also approachable. He realised he was treating you like an animal prone to startling.

“Oh, uh, I actually brought lunch today,” you said.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asked, “I’d love to hear more about your work.”

“Why?” You sounded so bewildered it was almost offensive.

“I don’t know much about what you’ve been working on. Is it so odd I might want to know about it?” he asked.

“You’ve never asked before. Have I done something wrong? Because if I have I’m really sorry and I’ll stop doing whatever it is,” tumbled from your lips and he was reminded that you found him intimidating, “I really am sorry. If you just let me know what it is I can stop doing it.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he was quick to say before you could continue rambling an apology for something that hadn’t happened, “I’m just interested in what you’re working on.”

“Why?” You sounded defensive now.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was trying. He was really trying. And you just weren’t getting it. You were making it so difficult.

When he opened his eyes you were frozen, as if waiting to be told off. Taking a deep breath in, he offered you a smile, his best attempt as he tried to when he felt such roiling emotions.

“You’re an asset to our team and you’re working on things I’m not involved in. I’m curious. That’s all,” he said, desperate to put you at ease.

“Oh.” You voice was so quiet.

“If you don’t want my company I understand. I thought it would be nice to get to know one another a bit better. Whatever. I see I was wrong.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from you. He must have misheard. Clearly you and Lucky hadn’t been talking about him.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, looking back at you over his shoulder, “lunch would be nice.”

His shoulders relaxed and he let the corner of his lips curl up in a small smile. Your answering one stole his breath.

“Come on then,” he said.

You hopped off your stool and he realised you didn’t even come up to his shoulder. He could wrap you up in his arms and you would be completely engulfed in him. He found that thought tempting.

Walking beside him as you left the lab, you weren’t looking at him, gaze turned towards your feet. His hand closed around your arm, steering you in the right direction. You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. His head dipped towards you, not able to stop himself. There was something about you.

He spent the entire lunch watching you, basking in your presence. You were slow to open up, answering his questions about your work softly. But once he got you going, your eyes sparked and the words tumbled from your lips faster than he could have thought possible. Your passion was clear and it only drew him in further.

“I dunno. Maybe’s its stupid,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all,” he said and noticed the way that seemed to turn you bashful. Your chin dipped and you couldn’t look at him. He lent forward again, over the table, trying to catch your eye, “you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

It was a quick flash of a smile, that same piece of hair falling forward again. You reached up to tuck it back again but his fingers were already there, doing it for you. You looked up, mouth falling open but you didn’t seem to be drawing back from him. His fingertips brushed over your jaw before he retracted his hand, pulling it back to his side of the table.

“Oh,” you said, almost a whisper, practically nothing but the movement of lips without sound.

“I’d like to do this again,” he said, assuming honesty was better than beating around the bush.

The look of surprise that passed over your face wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. But then you softened, that small smile reappearing.

“Really?” you asked.

“Sure. I find myself fascinated by you,” he said.

“Like I’m one of your experiments?”

He hadn’t expected that.

“No. Christ no,” he said, perhaps louder than intended, “fascinated like I like you.”

“Oh.”

“Can you say something other than that,” he demanded, then realised that wasn’t a good idea, “please?”

“Okay,” you said, giving him a shallow nod, “we can do this again.”

“We can?” He brightened, “we can.”

“But only because I like you too,” you said, not looking at him again.

So he had heard right. He felt a sense of satisfaction hearing the words from you. He would never admit it, but it wasn’t often someone liked him. Maybe that’s why he’d been doing so badly with you. Or not so badly since you were going to go out with him again.

He led you back to the lab, hand resting on the small of your back, the material of your jumper soft against his skin. You were half a step closer, leaning into his touch more.

It was a good sign.

Thank god he’s listened in to your conversation with Lucky otherwise he never would have been able to find you. And he thought you might be changing his life for the better. Your smile was already capable of brightening his day.

He was excited to see what was to come with you.

[iateyourparents]

i want to write you a song | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x musician!fem!reader

summary: you were an artist. when you were heartbroken you didn’t just cry alone in bed. you’re just making something out of your emotions.

warnings: kinda angsty, break up, use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: inspired by ‘I want to write you a song’ by One Direction. (btw guys i’m slowly running out of ideas so if you have something you would like to read you can request it/write to me or in comments <3)

pictures are from pinterest:)

You wanted to lie in bed all day. You really wanted to. But you weren’t this type of person, you couldn’t just lie all day while not doing anything but crying. It would just make you more frustrated.

So instead you just decided to pour your emotions on a paper and write a song.

You really wanted to make some energetic song where you would just badmouth your ex but you still loved him too much to do that, so instead you wrote a goodbye song for him. And it was really good.

“I want to write you a song, one as beautiful as you are sweet” you hummed to yourself trying to make a melody that would be perfect with your song.

“Already sounds great sweetie.” your manager, Ellie, said coming into your studio room. You deeply regreted giving her keys to your apartment. “What got you writing something like that? It doesn’t sound like love songs you made about Colby.”

“It’s a goodbye song for Colby. I actually wanted to call him an asshole and viagra taker but I just couldn’t make myself do that so I decided to do this. And I actually feel pretty good after writing this.” you shrugged and put your gituar in its place.

“Oh honey, what happend?” she sounded concerned.

“Colby broke up with me because he ‘didn’t felt as he should feel’ he just…wasn’t in love anymore.” you felt tears pricking at your eyes. Ellie gasped and hugged you tightly. “Don’t feel too bad, that song is amazing.” you laughed even though tears were already streaming from your eyes.

|||

“Okay guys, so I have this new song and you’ll be the first ones to ever hear it before it comes out today at midnight.” you told the crowd which started screaming with excitement. “That’s actually a form of a goodbye to someone who was, still is, important to me and even if we won’t ever talk again I want him to know I wish him the best.”

Well, maybe that wasn’t the best way to announce your break up to the world but whatever. It’s not like twitter and tik tok detectives weren’t starting to notice little things.

Music started playing right when you started playing your gituar and crowd got silent to listen better to new song.

“I want to write you a song, one as beautiful as you are sweet…” you continued singing and people started to get what you meant, and who you meant, in your little speech and well, you never heard a silence quite this loud.

“I want to write you a song. One to make your heart remember me, so anytime I’m gone you can listen to my voice and sing along. I want to write you a song.” you ended the song with tears in your eyes. Singing it out loud in front of thousands of people made you realize how real that situation was. You were no longer with Colby. And it still hurts.

You could see that some people in the crowd had shock on their faces and tears in their eyes. It was the first time ever it was so silent after you ended a song. And it felt weird but also so right.

It was like a minute of silence for you and Colby and for your relationship. For your memories.

You and Colby were popular couple. Many people said you’re the perfect example of right person in right time, so you knew these news would be heartbreaking for some of your fans.

“I know it’s probably a lot to take in just a moment but it actually felt good singing this out loud. Yeah, some chapters in life ends but that doesn’t mean there’s nothing waiting for us. New chapter is just a new chance and I’m gonna use it as best as I can.” you did a little speech and your fans finally recovered from the news you dropped at them and applaused for you. “I love you guys, I wouldn’t be here without you. I’m so fucking grateful for y‘all. See you soon!” as you were coming off the stage you could hear squeaks, shouting and clapping and it made you smile. You made it. And you will make it through this negative feelings. And you will be fine again.

|||

You were in a bar. It was your friend’s birthday party and as much as you liked her, this party sucked. Everybody was so sober and awkward that it made you want to leave.

“Oh hi.” you heard next to you. When you turned you saw Colby.

“Hi” you smiled to him. He looked really good. His black button up was revealing part of his chest and his beautiful blue eyes were shining in dim light “How are you?”

You tried to be civil with him. You were almost used to thought that you are no longer together. It still hurt, especially with world still talking about it since you announced it just few days ago even though you were broken up for few months.

“Good, thanks. And you?”

“Fine.” you smiled awkwardly. You stood in kind of awkward silence and just from looking at him you knew he wanted to tell you something but wasn’t sure how. “Just say it.”

“I like the song you wrote.” he finally choked out and you felt your heart squeezing. You didn’t expect him to start this topic but you just gulped and faked a giggle.

“Thank you.” when you wanted to say something else he stopped you with his words.

“I know I hurt you. I regret it like nothing else in my life but you deserve better. I just didn’t feel like I loved you enough. Not as much as you deserve to be loved. So I didn’t want to hurt you even more with pretending. But maybe…” he quickly shuted up and then changed his words, or rather tried to avoid saying what he started saying. “So I thought that would be better. But I still love you and think that in some way, I always will. But I think it’s better if you find your perfect match instead of being stuck with me. And it might seem cruel for me to say this now but I just wanted you to know that it would be impossible for me to forget someone like you. You changed my life, y/n.”

You wanted to say something but before you realized it he was out of your eyesight so you just sighed and took a sip of vodka.

|||

It’s been a month and you couldn’t stop thinking about Colby’s words.

Did he meant what you thought he meant?

He still loved you but didn’t think it was enough? Didn’t think he was enough for you?

You had so many questions and it made you sleepless trying to think what you should do or what are answers to these questions.

So now here you were, at Colby’s door in the middle of the night, still in your pajamas, hoping he was home.

You inhaled an air into your lungs and started knocking. Maybe more aggressive than you should but you just were desperate for answers and you couldn’t give up.

Finally moments later, the doors opened revealing sleepy Colby who looked at you confused and then he suddenly were more awake looking at you with concern.

“Everything okay? What happened? Are you hurt or in danger?” he looked over you as if to look for any visible wounds.

“Yes, I mean no.” you sighed and started explaining. “Since Doris’ birthday I can’t stop thinking about your words and it’s fucking crazy. Like, what did you mean?”

Colby could see desperation and tiredness in your eyes and it make him feel bad because he was the reason of your distress.

“I…”

You interrupted him.

“I thought about it so much that i got to a conclusion that you still love me but don’t want to be with me because you’re too… scared of something, like hurting me or whatever. And it hurts so much anyway because I don’t think I can function without you anymore what is so funny to me because I literally wrote a song to get over you. But it didn’t work because I still fucking love you and want you back and I hope i’m right and you also still love me because I think it will break me for good if I’m wrong and you don’t love me anymore. And I might sound so pathetic right now but I don’t care becau…”

This time he was the one who interrupted you. But with the way he did that, you couldn’t be mad.

He kissed you to make you shut up.

You gladly reciprocated the kiss and after a moment he took his lips away just to place his forehead on yours.

“You’re right. I’m still in love with you. But I just felt like my love wasn’t enough, that you deserve so much better. Someone who will always be able to show you his love and share your passions with you and…” now you were the one shutting him up with your lips.

“Don’t say anything. You’re so stupid, Colbs. You’re the only one I want, even if you have your own hobbies. And you showed me your love in a way I loved. I want you, only you.”

Colby smiled at you and took your hands to lead you inside his home.

“I’m so glad you were brave enough to come here because I missed you so much but was afraid to confront you after Doris’ party.” you laughed softly at that and squeezed his hand.

Maybe now you will be back to writing love songs about this man.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 8th: Rockstar | Times Like These - Foo Fighters | Confident a/n: rockstar!eddie & corroded coffin. steddie. suggestive themes but not explicit. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

When Eddie was a teenager, he pictured himself on stage, surrounded by pyrotechnics and aggressive bass riffs. His hair was long, his skin mottled in tattoos with maybe a love bruise or two, and his favorite ruby red guitar slung low to his hips as he belts his vocals into the microphone. 

All but the last part comes true. 

He does end up sweaty from the heat of the fire cannons on either side of their set. Freak shreds his bass every fucking show, his fingers undoubtedly calloused beyond repair. Eddie’s hair gets in his face as he plays his own guitar, his Sweetheart, but he doesn’t get to sing. 

That’s all Steve. 

Unassuming, surprisingly talented Steve Harrington who Eddie discovers can fucking sing when he’s home from a tour, driving around together through the empty streets of Hawkins, Indiana. The 90s bring a new landscape to heavy metal and rock and roll, and as cocky as Eddie might be, as confident as he is when it comes to his music, he can see when someone has one up on him. Steve’s rendition of The Foo Fighters’ Good Grief as he drums along on the steering wheel sets his heart aflame– and maybe another appendage that he’s tried to ignore for the better part of ten years. 

Steve agrees to join the band with a heavy bit of convincing, agreeing only when Eddie offers to retain his role as frontman.

I don’t wanna be a rockstar, Ed. That’s all you. 

The band truly takes off when Steve joins, his voice adding a different flavor and Eddie’s backing vocals rounding out their sound. Eddie tells Steve night after night, show after show, that he’s happy he’s there, because he is. Maybe being in love with his bandmate hadn’t part of the teenage fantasy, but it’s become his favorite part of the reality, even if it’s one-sided or unrequited. His skin remains unbruised, no groupies or flings to be found, but he’d prefer a blank canvas over meaningless artistry anyways. 

They end up touring again, exploring the country and parts of Canada together but always with different hotel rooms. Eddie never minds sharing with Gareth, or Jeff, or Freak but he also doesn’t make a habit of thinking about their dicks. 

After their show in Toronto, the end of this leg of their tour, Eddie and the rest of the band celebrate in Eddie’s room– it’s the biggest of their block and Eddie won rock-paper-scissors to claim the lone room this time around. 

Drinks flow, smoke from their joints curl out the window screen into the night, and before Eddie realizes it’s happened, he’s left alone with Steve.

Steve, who hasn’t had a thing to drink and only a few puffs of his joint, but is laying across the bed with his feet crossed at the ankles and his head resting in Eddie’s lap anyways. Steve, who Eddie listens to as he hums the melody of their encore and whose hair he can’t help but thread through his fingers. Steve, who Eddie has been watching night after night sing the words Eddie’s written himself, some of which are about Steve. 

It’s a dangerous position to be in. 

“Gettin’ tired yet, Harrington?” Eddie asks, grinning as Steve rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, we’re back to Harrington now, Munson?” 

Eddie just shrugs and continues playing with Steve’s hair. It’s soft, still damp from his shower, and Eddie’s surprised he hasn’t shoved him off yet with some comment about how he’s gonna fuck it up. But he doesn’t, and Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve asks, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to Eddie’s eyes. “It’s weird.” 

“I contain multitudes, don’t try to make me some one-dimensional agent of chaos.” 

Steve laughs and it’s better than any song Eddie’s ever written. And he’s written some damn good songs, if he does say so himself. 

Eddie lets out a little oof as Steve sits up, bracing himself on Eddie’s stomach to turn and face him. There’s something in Steve’s expression that Eddie can’t place– searching eyes, furrowed brows, one corner of his lips quirked up. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You just did.” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?” 

“I do, actually. But yeah, go ahead.” Eddie bites his bottom lip and shrugs.

“How come you never wanna share a room with me?” 

Eddie just about chokes on nothing, inhaling oxygen into the wrong pipe or something. His ears turn red, a tell that no amount of shaking his hair out can hide, at least not from Steve. He feels the soft skin of Steve’s hand graze his cheek as he tucks hair back behind his right ear, exposing the bright red shade of embarrassment. 

“Is it me? I can’t imagine that I, Steve Harrington, make you, big ol’ Rockstar Eddie Munson, uncomfortable after all these years.” 

You motherfucker, Eddie thinks, his mouth a little behind the speed of his thoughts, effectively leaving him speechless. 

“Little bit, actually,” Eddie manages to admit. 

He shouldn’t admit anything, but he’s alone in this quiet room with the boy he’s loved for so many years, who’s touching him like he loves him, too. Who can blame him?

“How come?” Steve whispers, his lips suddenly closer, their noses nearly touching. Eddie may or may not be breathing, but he tries. Fainting would definitely kill whatever this energy is between them. 

“Ed, c’mon. Just, just tell me you want me, too. Please.” 

Too? He thinks.

“Too?” He asks.

Steve smiles and nods, running his thumb across Eddie’s chapped lower lip before resting his palm against his cheek. 

“Too.” 

—

The following morning, Eddie and Steve meet up with the rest of the band in the hotel restaurant for breakfast– or, well, brunch at best given the time they actually make it downstairs. 

“Notice you stayed in Eddie’s room last night,” Jeff asks, one eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead as his eyes flit back and forth from Steve to the very clear, purpling bruise on Eddie’s collarbone. 

“Astute observation,” Eddie grins and answers for him, digging into the stack of pancakes in front of him, ravenous. 

“Sure did,” Steve just grins, shrugging as he shifts in his seat. 

Gareth, Freak, and Jeff all exchange a look, the kind of look that comes with inside jokes and long-suffering waiting. 

“Wait–” Steve starts, pointing an accusing finger at Jeff. “You all left early on purpose, didn’t you?”

Gareth laughs the hardest, rivaled only by Eddie who watches them all with incredulity as Jeff parrots Steve with casual confidence. 

“Sure did.” 

[twyftwyt]

this is going to be a long one, so prepare yourselves, cause I need to get some stuff off my chest

All that’s wrong in the BO fandom and with BO themselves:

1. Proper media training - I think none of the boys in the band, aside from Noah, have proper media training and it shows in interviews. I feel like, with them growing so big over the last year, they need to take some proper time and do that, so we can save each other the little awkward moments where interviewers ask weird questions or make even weirder statements and the guys just sit there looking a little lost.

2. Their crew needs to chill (at times) - Now I understand that every fandom has got their crazies, it’s a part of the lore, but come on! I’ve seen not once or twice, crew members being mean towards the fandom, calling us dumb and whatnot. If I see something I don’t like or find weird/stupid/pointless/delusional, I might share it with my friends, but I won’t go around posting about it on my story/twitter. There are people in this fandom that go overboard and need to be shown the door, but when you show disrespect to one, you show disrespect to all and that, I feel, needs to be stated somewhere. Matt is unnecessarily mean sometimes and so are Steven and other crew members. I feel like if I were in their position, I’d probably want to call out people on their shit too, but no need to do it ALL THE TIME.

3. The band is too closed off - And don’t get me wrong here, I understand and respect boundaries, but it sounds and feels a little contradictory when the lead singer of the band says in an interview that he feels closer to some of the artists he listens to, because he’s read their life story. The irony in that is massive. When you deny fans of little things like posts here and there, sharing a little something personal (example: Dove Cameron, Halsey, Thirty Seconds to Mars are all artists that make and write their own music and I’ve heard at least one story from each of them on how a personal event inspired said song). So when you deny fans of little things like that, you get obsessive people who try ro dig up your personal life, just to feel a bit more connected to your music. Everything can be regulated, I feel, if done and said right.

4. They all (the band and crew) need to collectively accept the fact that the band’s becoming massive, which means that they will attract all kinds of fans. Fans that will be there only for Noah. Fans that will be there only for TikTok hits like “Just Pretend” and whatnot. And they’d benefit so much more from those people if they just knew how to use everything to their advantage. Now one little comment from the crew sets the whole fandom ablaze. They’re not a small town band supporting bigger acts on tour anymore.

ok, I’ll stop yapping now and remember, this is just my opinion, you don’t have to agree with it and you also don’t have to argue with me on it ✌🏻

[mommalosthermind]

So I'm slowly starting to come to understand that we shouldn't censor things but also I'm still a little uncomfortable with the site allowing things like pedophilia to be written in a way that's romanticized. I get it. Avoid it since I don't like it but at what point do we say, 'hmm this isn't okay.' I mean I get it, fiction doesn't hurt people but if that were truly the case then why are we lobbying for rep/realism/etc in media? Fiction, at some point, has to have some effect on real life.

Hello darling! I got your second ask too, please don’t worry, you’re definitely not coming across as unkind.

And you’re definitely not the only one to have similar thoughts or concerns.

But my answer’s going to be the same.

There is no such thing as a little censorship, and opening that particular can of pringles is not going to end happily for anyone. It’s better to not open it at all. And yes, that means people will create deeply fucked up things. But they should have the ability to do so, just like you should have the ability to avoid the hell out of it.

(Which, for AO3, is where I start in on my tag your shit appropriately/read the fucking tags!!! Rants. Learned the hard way a million years ago when I *thought* I was reading something very very different than I was, so when I got to ‘Character has sex with a dog’ I lost my mind, then realized I fucked up and hadn’t read the tags. If I had, I would have noped out of that fic immediately. So. That entire encounter was on me.)

“At what point is this not okay?” Well, that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Who would be in charge of deciding where the line goes? Who gets to decide what goes on which side of the line?

The last anon seemed to think writing was the same as doing, and thus writing shouldn’t be allowed at all.

And then got annoyed when I pointed out how often those unsavory themes happen in movies or TV without any warning at all, and generally, people move right past it.

Fiction doesn’t hurt people. People hurt people.

My favorite comparison is still my kitchen curtains, because my curtains are still weird: fairies, trees. Very witchy. I’ve seen people do literal double takes over my curtains. I can tell by the way they squint they can’t stand them or don’t understand why I would want something so *non-traditional* in such a public part of my house. They keep their damned mouths shut though, because they know its rude to tell me to change my curtains to fit their idea of a kitchen. (And also because I’d toss them out after laughing my ass off but that’s not relevant)

Person A has an idea of what ‘acceptable’ levels are, but that’s much much less than person B. Who wins? No one.

And no one should have the power to just decide things like that.

It’s stupid o’clock at night where I am, so I’m not about to go digging for studies, but I know we’ve got pretty solid proof that media doesn’t cause behaviors spontaneously. At the risk of sounding old, but this same argument once was applied to music, too. The weird compromise was slapping content warnings for language/sex/violence on CD’s. (Y’know. A significantly less useful form of tagging?) It didn’t… really do shit for anyone. Other than make those CD’s more attractive to teens, tbh. But. The argument at the time was rap and rock were violent and would make kids go insane and violent just by listening.

It… didn’t. It still doesn’t.

Reading dark fic isn’t going to cause someone to do something out of the blue.

Someone who’s debating doing the thing might seek out media about whatever their obsession is, yes. But their obsession was already there. Fic, music, movies, they’re not going to create it. I’d wager those girls who murdered their friend and blamed ‘slenderman’ had signs long before they went that far.

Part of the problem with this entire thought is that it’s thought policing. Folks assume the thought equals the sin. And as someone with pretty wonky intrusive thoughts and a long family history of mental issues— no. I have weird ass thoughts all the time. ‘Huh, I’m up high, I should jump, maybe I’ll float.’ I’m not gonna act on them. I know they’re weird thoughts. I’m not gonna float, I’d just die. Your brain just… says things sometimes. Some of us more than others. Therapy’s helpful for folks who struggle with that.

Fiction’s got nothing to do with it, though. Fiction just represents someone else working through their lives.

Melissa Etheridge wrote a song (scarecrow) about Matthew Sheppard’s murder. She didn’t cause anyone else to go torture another lonely gay boy to death. She was working through her grief at losing another one of us. And we worked through our grief when she sang.

Art is made for the making of it. Fiction—even the kind that squicks you— is still art.

As for the other part of your ask, the representation? I’m not sure I see the connection you’re trying to make. When people talk about rep, they’re talking about making the characters more authentic, more reflective of the beautiful range of humanity at large. Not seven brown haired white guys and one bitchy white woman and the unnamed not-white side character used for shit jokes. There should be a rainbow of humans in media, because little black girls deserve to know they’re strong and smart and beautiful. Because queer kids of all sizes and shapes deserve to know they’re loved. Because boys should get to be princesses. Because people with chronic illnesses, disabilities, they should get to be part of the stories. Because white folk need to see the rest of the world as human. Folks want to see themselves in the heroes, the happiness, the successes.

Too many kids never get to see themselves on the screen or read about people who look like them.

I loved belle as a kid because she looked like me and she loved reading. I loved Ariel because she wanted to be free. I cried over encanto because I know what it’s like to be excluded, what it’s like to be the big sister. I cried over reading red white and royal blue because the gays get to live and they’re happy. Everyone should have some way to connect.

The realism bit,though, I don’t think is the consumers as a whole. Yeah, some folks prefer it, but from what I’ve seen over the last 20 years, it’s more like the people who control most popular media have decided that’s what they wanna make. I don’t care for it, tbh. Media doesn’t need to be an exact copy of the real world.

Stories are meant as a place of solace, or at least a place that is different, than your day to day.

I like stories that have soft, happy ever afters. We’ve worked through the Big Bad Thing and come out stronger for it and now we get our well deserved rest. The real world doesn’t give me those things. Other people look at the state of the world, read seriously fucked up shit, and then go, well, at least my life isn’t that. It could be worse! And this is their happy place.

So. I’m not sure I’m much help here, but tl;dr: remember the tenets of fandom:

1) kinktomato: your kink is not my kink and that is okay. (You like this, I do not, I’m gonna leave it alone, the end.)

2) DLDR: Don’t like? Don’t read. Filtering and blocking are your besties.

3) ship and let ship (or sit down) — don’t press your dislike onto the people who do like. Let ‘em alone, go find what you do like.

4) tag appropriately, read the damn tags.

5) curate your own spaces. You alone are responsible for your online existence/experiences

6) have fun. Enjoy it. Be weird. Be silly. Be fucked up. Be unrepentantly yourself. Don’t let anyone else take that away from you.

[sophielovestaylor]

CALLING ALL SWIFTIES!! PLEASE READ THIS 🫶🏼🫶🏼

hey y’all!! this is an extremely big ask but i’ve been trying to get in touch with taylor and her team for ever, to hopefully one day try and meet her and i know it might not be likely but even if it isn’t i hope this message reaches her somehow!! let’s try make it happen swifties!

hi taylor!!! im not sure if this message will ever reach you or not seeing as you propably get loads of messages each day, but i’m gonna try and shoot my shot and see if by literally a miracle you’ll be able to read this message im gonna write to you!!

firstly, i’ve literally thought about writing this letter to you so many times (like SO MANY TIMES) but somehow my words always felt like they weren't enough to express the gratitude, admiration, and deep connection i feel toward you and your music but today i have FINALLY decided to just let my heart speak, and so therefore im writing to you! but no matter how hard i honestly don’t i could ever truly write how much you actually mean to me, how much your music has impacted my life, or how your presence in the world has been literally a light during some of the darkest times l've ever experienced (im so sorry if this letter might seem really creepy or weird i promise im just a normal 15 year old girl who loves her cat!!)

tbh i can't exactly pinpoint the first moment i discovered your music (i think it was around like 2017 and i was like 10) but when i first started consciously listening to you and knew who you where which is around when rep was released i remember how it felt and god was reputation such a good fucking album (rep tv or debut tv when because i am ACHING for those vault tracks ma’am!!!!) when i first listened to folklore when it came out it was like someone had finally put into words all the emotions i was too afraid or unable to express, your lyrics spoke directly to my heart and and it felt like for the first time, someone understood me and to me it was more than just listening to music it was like you were a friend who was there for me when I needed someone most, and your music even though you literally didn't know me at all helped me so much more than you could ever imagine

third off i just want to say thank you for being such an amazing person, you have one of the most genuinest and kindest souls i have ever seen, and beyond the music, i have to tell you that who you are as a person has been an equally important source of inspiration for me, i’ve watched you navigate your career with such strength, and an unwavering sense of self, even in the face of incredibly difficult situations (scooter braun they could never make me like you) and you as a person has shown me and so many others that it's okay to stand up for yourself, to speak your truth, and to own your story, even when the world tries to silence you.

your bravery in standing up for your rights as an artist, your dedication to us swifties, and your ability to remain authentic in an industry that often values image over substance has been nothing short of inspiring, you’ve faced public betrayal and criticism, yet somehow you continue to rise above it all with such resilience and this is something i honestly respect so much and you are honestly so so brave and such a role model for people all over the world (especially me) and watching you navigate those challenges with such literal amazingness gave me the strength to face my own challenges with a little more courage and to be myself no matter what anyone thinks and i will forever appreciate you for teaching me life lessons sometimes that nobody around me could

i have never felt more love and genuine happiness for literally anyone ever, i’m so proud of how far you’ve come in life and that you finally find someone that treats you with all the love and respect that you ma’am deserve (mrs kelce when????)

anyways tay i don’t want to bore you but thank you for being such an inspiring role model in my life, you’re music was always there for me when i needed it and even if you don’t know me i will always and forever be in your corner and will always root for you! when i stayed up watching the vmas i literally SCREAMED when you won!!!

when i first started secondary school, i used to go through a ton amount of bullying and people coming at for over nothing everyday over literally just the way i looked and i used to get added to so many group chats and get mugs of me posted alllll over peoples snapchat stories just because i was a little bit different to everyone, but through all of that who was there for me? FOLKLORE AND EVERMOREEE 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️!! you’re music and a lot of the things you’ve said about mental health and empowering women has helped me find my voice and my confidence and to be myself no matter what and i’ve made every single moment since then to embrace myself as a person and make the most out of my life!

this year i’m about to sit my gcses which i honestly find so freaky! but to end this off, hopefully if you ever see this i’d love to one day be able to meet you and i know you propably get a thousand of messages a day of people asking the same thing, but to me meeting you would literally be a life long dream, i would love nothing more than to actually just sit and talk to you and hang out with you and literally just be two normal people having a conversation, so maybe if you do happen to see this..maybe it’ll work out 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

i love you tay, and i’ll always always be in your corner rooting for you!! <3

- sophie 🫶🏼

here’s my socials for any of y’all that want it!! :)

insta: sophiegrrce

snapchat: sophiegrxce12

twitter: sophsversionx

[taylorswiftstylequestions]

“I also personally LOVE the delusion of "Everyone we know understands why we're meant to be" because it's so integral to the entire point of the song” — THIS THIS THIS. Remember, that line comes after she admits that they’ve both told their friends separately that they’ll kill themselves if the other leaves, one of the biggest and most obvious red flags a relationship can have. As someone who’s had a friend say something similar to me in the past, I can guarantee that everyone most certainly did not understand why they’re meant to be — if Jack’s experience was anything like mine, that statement would have gotten an anxious laugh and an internal she doesn’t mean that seriously, right? The relationship described in little ttpd is neither healthy nor romantic. The narrator is trying desperately to convince herself it is, which is why she’s telling herself all their friends are on board with it when it’s not entirely clear if they are (notice that we don’t hear Lucy or Jack’s reactions to these very concerning statements — we have to take Taylor’s word that they understand why they’re meant to be*, and a recurring theme throughout especially the first half of this album is that Taylor isn’t always the most reliable narrator). For that reason I don’t really struggle with the “how could she write this about HIM??” feelings with little ttpd in the same way I do for songs like loml. Little ttpd is just a detailed accounting of what she’s summarizing in icfh(nric) — an unhealthy, rapidly failing relationship built on lovebombing and delusion. And I am totally fine assigning that to Mr. Smallest Man Who Ever Lived (said jokingly — obviously with the paternity test disclaimer and understanding that Taylor’s music is much more than the men who may have potentially inspired it)

*and yes I realize that all of Taylor’s work is technically based on us taking her word for things, and that even if she gave us the full conversation we would still be taking her word that it’s true, but I think even with that she’s still presenting herself as an unreliable narrator in this song and that the choice to leave out her friends’ reactions/responses was an intentional one

This was fantastically said friend and I so agree and I also think that this extra bit of Required Reading is perhaps why Poets might have such a higher barrier to entry for listeners and also why some of its earliest criticisms lose weight once you give the album its due and listen to it the way it was meant to be consumed - over a long period of time and with careful consideration to the context and the intent of the artist.

The album is too long and overly, unnecessarily wordy. Yes.

Some of the lyrics are super cringe and weird and awkward. Yes.

It's really gross that she's romanticizing being in love with someone who's not a good person. Y E S. YES?!?!?!??! YES!!!!!!

THAT'S THE POINT. THAT'S THE POINNNNNNNNNT! THAT'S THE POINT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And yes completely agree that while there's a precedent set that if you're listening to a Taylor Swift song you're getting her *biased* POV as in her version of events (which, tbh, her version of events usually goes reasonably unrefuted by people which I'm led to believe means it's typically close to right even if it's fuelled by her own biased personal emotions). But never elsewhere in her disco as we do on TTPD do we have to confront the fact that her biased POV is also a really fucked up one that she herself does not even necessarily believe but is doing her best to convince herself that it's true and good for her and right. And you have to be actively hearing and discerning and comprehending and analyzing what she is saying and how she is saying it in order to *get that*.

Poets inherently does not reward passive listening. And if you tuned out once you grasped who a song might* be about because you personally dislike them** you miss almost the entire point of what Taylor is trying to communicate.

[moltenwrites]

Writing interview tag!

Ohoho this one is exciting! Thanks @the-letterbox-archives for the tags. Your answers were sick, it was a very interesting read. This one is a long one, but the goal is to answer a LOT of questions. A empty list will be at the bottom with the tags!

About me

When did you start writing?

Oo im not sure? I started “ seriously “ writing a couple of years ago when I took a writing class, but I wouldn’t say I was really a “ writer “ untill I started working on How Our World Ended a few years ago

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

Oh 100% I haven’t been reading that much lately, but I mostly read horror and mystery. While I sneak in horror sometimes, I’ve never really been compelled to write a mystery story

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

If I’m honest, no to both of those. I have authors I love, but i have my own thing. And people don’t compare me to any author. Weither that’s good or bad is up to you I guess

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I write with my old, shitty Chromebook on my bed with my pillow propped up as a back rest. My PC keyboard is very loud and just not too fun to write with, and I despise writing on mobile. If I’m in the mood, I turn on some music and get to work

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I’m gonna answer this question in two different ways, how I get inspiration for ideas, and how I get in the writing vibe. For the first, it’s honestly just seeing something I like and going “ I wanna do that “ or listening to a song while some grand story plays out in my head. For ACTUALLY writing, that’s tricky. I normally write late, but if a friend is up talking about whatever thing ive really liked as of late can help. Thinking ahead to scenes I’m excited to write helps, especially when I listen to music that I tie to those moments.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

I mean, I’m sure they did subconsciously somehow- but I tend to write in fantasy, and my suburban ass life doesn’t really lend to my ideas well. Though I will say, my moms fondness for museums has inspired Paintings a good bit

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

Yeah, a good few. I’d say grief, and how it impacts people is the most prevalent theme across my stories. This is a bit surprising since I’ve ( fortunately ) not lost too many people in my life

Characters:

would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

Oo this one is HARD. I can pick my favorite for each story easily but OVERALL is really hard. I’m torn between Lars from Souls Collide, or The Artist from How Our World Ended. Both characters mean so much to me, and I’d say those two are the characters I’ve made with the most depth. Ughh this is difficult. I guess I’ll say Lars for now, just because of how prevalent and important to me he’s been

Also I know it’s not what the question is asking, but my favorite character that I DIDNT make is Sunny from OMORI

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

I think I’d vibe with most of the souls collide cast, considering they were initially based off of people I knew. I also think I’d get along with Asim and Astera from Paintings, along with Lyra and Val from How Our World Ended.

which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

Oh god most of them. I write TERRIBLE people. Samaueal would just kill me- I’d hate Nelios, he’s a dick, Ryder from Souls Collide was based off of a person I disliked in real life, Salazar is pretentious and WOULD kill me, Dimitri is the worst- I can go on. But the worst is Samaueal, considering he would just kill me for the hell of it

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

It’s real weird. I either see something I like, and want to steal it in some way, so i base a character off of them. Asim and Astera are heavily influenced by Mary and Reginald from Cemetery Mary, Hart is inspired by Walter White, the whole council was inspired by the organization from Kingdom Hearts. But for characters I didn’t partially steal, it mostly just comes to me when listening to music. Some characters were also created out of necessity, and evolved far past that.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

Yup. I tend to write certain types of characters very formally, my protags are often shaken by one particularly harrowing event, and they almost all have some sort of huge internal fight with themselves.

How do you picture your characters?

It depends! Most of the time, I imagine every character in the style I wanted Souls Collide to be, but for certain scenes ( especially fights with Res ) I see it in live action.

My writing:

what’s your reason for writing?

I have a whole lotta ideas and gotta get them out SOMEHOW.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

Literally anything positive anyone says makes my day. You all have been more supportive than irl friends. But the things that make my day are either people predicting what comes next in private circles, and for comments here, saying that people like a character or are interested in a story makes me beam. I will die if I ever get fan art ( in a good way )

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

However they wanna. You don’t have to see me any way, but I’ve tried to be a positive force here, so I guess that.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I don’t wanna sound egotistical, but my ideas are really cool ( at least I think so )

What have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

I’ve been told that what I can do is impressive. I remember one specific interaction about the artist that was incredibly kind.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It depends. I’m incredibly proud of my recent work. I love how Paintings is coming along, and I think the laster chapters of How Our World Ended are the best things I’ve ever written. Anything over two years old is dogshit though, I was in physical pain rereading the first draft of chapter 4

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

Gonna be real, don’t think I’d live. But in the event I continued living for whatever reason, maybe? I don’t know, that’s a hard ass question.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

I write plots entirely for myself, but I try to thing about what issues there are with my plot from a readers perspective. Idk if that sounds crazy, but thinking about stuff from an outsider perspective can be helpful in editing.

Annnd that’s all, this took me life half an hour wow. Here’s the question list ( It’s unspaced so fellow mobile users can actually copy it all ) Thanks for reading it all, if you did, it’s a super fun exercise!

About meWhen did you start writing?Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?can you tell me a bit about your writing space? What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?Characters: would you please tell me about your current favorite character? Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters? Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?How do you picture your characters? My writing: what’s your reason for writing?Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating? How do you want to be thought about by your readers?What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?How do you feel about your own writing?If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

Annnnd tag list!

@thatuselesshuman @ddgraywrites @jjoneswriting @revenantlore @aintgonnatakethis @yourpenpaldee @illarian-rambling @autism-purgatory @the-letterbox-archives @theverumproject @gioiaalbanoart @noxxytocin @joseph-hooser @mk-writes-stuff @yrndrgn @wyked-ao3

+ Open, as always

[thxnks4themrms]

I just realized I never properly made an intro for myself so under the cut is where you can find it :)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hi! Since I can't come up with a nickname for myself right now you can kinda just call me Vampy because I can't really think of anything else rn. Anyways, to make things easier I'll just write most of the basic stuff in bullet points :)

I’m Cambodian (Asian)

I use she/her and they/them pronouns

My favorite colors are pink and black

I’m an INFJ

I’m a Sagittarius

I love music - metal and rock to be specific

I like reading

I love horror movies

I enjoy things like taxidermy and bones

I’m bi and polyamorous

I’m Buddhist

I’m 13 which makes me a silly minor 😋😋

I literally have the best lovers ever <33

I love you Mikey Way

Bands / Artist I listen To The Most <3

My Chemical Romance - and their side projects

Fall Out Boy

Paramore

Pre-split Panic! At The Disco

Arctic Monkeys

The Last Shadow Puppets

Mitski

Lana Del Rey

Korn

Slipknot

Limp Bizkit

Blink - 182

Dazey And The Scouts

Weezer

Pierce The Veil

Radiohead

The Smashing Pumpkins

The Smiths

The Cure

Këkht Aräkh

The Neighborhood

TV Girl

Waterparks

Mötley Crüe

Queen

Nirvana

The Offspring

6arelyhuman

KMFDM

Okay so now that I’ve said a little about myself I plan on doing more stuff to this blog but that’ll be coming in 2024 :p but other than that here’s my dni list and when more stuff comes it’ll be here :D

Thin Ice <\3 (PLEASE DONT BE MAD IM SORRY)

Swifties

Harry Styles fans

Billie Eilish fans

Wet leg fans

DNI <\3

Homophobes

Racist

Transphobes

Ppl who fetishize homosexuality

Ppl who fetishize Asians

Rcta

Rude ppl in general

Ppl who force their religion on others

Ppl who have stuff to say about politics (this is mainly a music blog :’) plz don’t bring heavy/sensitive topics into this)

Animal haters

MANIA AND DANGER DAYS HATERS

2019 GERARD HATERS

LANA AFTER HER CHANGES HATERS

RAY TORO HATERS

People who listen / support nsbm

WAYCEST/PROSHIPPERS GET THE FUCK OUT YOU ARE NOT WELCOMED

People who are siding with Melanie Martinez and not hearing both sides of the Mel/timothy sa situation

People of any age can’t interact with me I don’t mind at all :))

WARNINGS

This blog will contain things that some people may find disturbing or uncomfortable. Things under this could include:

Blood/gore

Images of cemeteries/graveyards

Eerie/dark images in general

I do post a lot of shit sometimes that mention things about sex, substances, and a lot of other things I DONT recommend / encourage minors use - when I say stuff that mentions stuff like that im joking pls don’t take it seriously 😭😭😭

If you don’t like these things please don’t get upset! I’ll try my best to add tw for the things listed above. If you spot anything on my blog that you think might need a tw then feel free to dm me or put it in my inbox :)

Just so you know

This blog isn’t my main blog this is actually my side blog - my main is @tousyposay so don’t be kinda weirded out by that :p

My additional side blogs include:

@blxxdbxgs - a place where i simp over nurse Gerard

@urmyfavexplosion - my blog where i choose one album and post that for an entire month or some shit like that

MY SOCIALLLLSSSS

TikTok - edgelordbolos

Insta - bolosisagirlkisser

Discord - vxmpywllnvrhrtu

Airbuds - sophalbolos

Man I can’t think of any other of my blogs ☠️☠️☠️ I’ll add them when I remember

Sorry if I upset any of you guys I really hope I didn’t mean to :(

Anyways that’s all I have to say for rn but thanks so much! I’ll be adding more to this as the days go on but for now thanks :)

Have a good day/night I love you guys so much! <3

-Vampy

[pouroverpaloma]

Writing Interview Tag Game! Thanks @cinnamontails-ff !

When did you start writing?

I don’t actually remember! I was a desperately weird and introverted kid (surprise) and I read voraciously, all the time, so I also started writing really early. Stories, plays, poems, comics, whatever. I also kept a meticulous diary when I was in high school, and I’m so glad I did because it’s so fucking funny to read now. Teenage Paloma had a lot going on, to put it kindly

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Have I watched Supernatural? No. Have I been an insatiable consumer of Destiel fanfiction for years? Absolutely. I gave a PowerPoint presentation to my book club once titled “All the best romance novels are Supernatural fanfiction,” and I stand by that thesis. I don’t care. Those babes were cooking.

Like, I’m sorry, the soulmate AU trope is never going to get better than Don’t Look Back by @goldenraeofsun. It’s just not. No one is ever going to write an academic romance as compelling as And This, Your Living Kiss by @asecretvice. If you haven’t poked around that part of Ao3 because you don’t watch the show, I beg you to get in there because treasures await ye

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

This isn’t going to make a ton of sense outside of my own brain, probably, but my goal is always to write prose that feels the way Ada Limón’s poems make me feel. She’s really frank without being unserious, and I love the way she creates imagery without telling you she’s doing it.

Also, this weekend, I read a Tessa Dare historical romance while I was on the beach, and I loved it! It was so fun, but not at the expense of the plot, and the supporting characters were so funny without getting in the way. A masterclass in froth.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

At home, I write in bed with my laptop on my lap and a can of seltzer within reach at all times. Sometimes I go to a cafe near my house, but I’m always worried someone will look over my shoulder and see what I’m writing and post me for cringe on TikTok or something. Which, now that I’m typing it out, is maybe a stupid thing to worry about

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I have a couple recs!

1. Go for a biiiiiig walk. Listen to classical music, nothing with words. Don’t try to think too hard. It’ll come.

2. Read something you find genuinely terrible. You’ll get so mad that you’ll start thinking of ways you could have done it better. For me, this is usually the book Haunting Adeline, which for whatever reason activates every “um actually” in my body at once

3. Type up something deeply unserious that you have no intention of publishing. Chances are you’ll end up loving it in the rewrite and post it. This is how that Rolan fic of mine got made

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Oh god, yeah, and oh god, yeah. I’ve learned a lot. Some of it’s actually been helpful in therapy, like how I keep writing about overcoming domestic violence trauma. Some of it has been discovering, in a very public way that I can’t undo, that I’m into choking. We do not have the dignity of choosing how enlightenment comes to us

What is your reason for writing?

It’s for fun. It’s all for fun. I am having such a fucking good time.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love when people talk back and forth with me! And I love love looooooove when people tell me how something made them feel. Or when someone points out a literary device I was proud of. If there’s a quote, too? I’m dead. I’ve died.

Writing is fun, but it’s solitary. It’s so motivating to have people who are willing to step into my little universe with me and talk about it. I’m extraordinarily lucky.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I want people to see me as someone who shares their enthusiasm, ultimately. We’re all here for the same reason, and it’s That Fucking Wizard.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

My voice is really distinctive! My friends have always been able to pick out my writing, even in anonymized settings, and I think that’s neat

How do you feel about your own writing?

It’s been a long way getting here, but I view my writing as a thing I made, that I liked making, that I now have no ownership over. Once it’s out, it’s not mine anymore, it’s the reader’s. And that’s a good thing! Everyone brings their own rich experiences to everything they read. Interpretation is amazing, even for something as prima facie trivial as video game erotica. When people tell me how they related to or analyzed something I wrote, it’s like I get to read my own story again.

:) I’ll tag @lemonstealinglibrarian @lastlight-inn and @toads-treasures , if you want! No presh

[astrangetorpedo]

Phoebe Bridgers. Julien Baker. Lucy Dacus. What happens when three of the most talented solo singer-songwriters of a generation get together? You get something disarmingly funny, haunting, queer, something sui generis. Plus the best love song playlist ever. Meet The Band— a.k.a. boygenius.

From left: CHOPOVA LOWENA fringe denim jacket. PAOLINA RUSSO bodice mini dress and knit top. CHOPOVA LOWENA zip cardigan and fuzzy skirt; FALKE tights.

Nicolaia Rips: How are you guys? You’re all individually at home hanging?

Lucy Dacus: Phoebe and I both just got back from, what, five weeks of being away or more. I’m jet-lagged. I was sleepy at 7 p.m. and I had a friend come over and kind of push me until 10 p.m. so I wouldn’t fall asleep while the sun was out.

Nicolaia Rips: How’s tour?

Lucy Dacus: The tour, like, all of it has been awesome. Our next show is Boston. Right? Or is it New Haven? I don’t know. (Julien pops into the zoom, just the tip of her baseball hat as she slowly emerges into frame.)

Julien Baker: My phone died and then I just...Hi, I’m here now.

Nicolaia Rips: If boygenius was a family who’s the middle child, who’s the eldest?

Phoebe Bridgers: Am I the youngest?

LD: No!

JB: No. You’re not youngest! I’m youngest.

LD: Julien’s youngest.

PB: You also are literally the youngest.

LD: Is it boring to say that it’s just how the ages are? Me and Phoebe are both older sisters to younger brothers and Julian is an only child. I think you’re big sis Phoebe. Big brother. Big sis was weird.

PB: My brother calls me sis to give me the ick. He’s like, I love how they do it on TV. They’re always like, “what’s up, sis?” Who the fuck calls their sister that?

NR: The film [directed by Kristen Stewart]. The record. Can you talk about the finality of “The.” What other “The” would you want to do in the future?

LD: The amusement park, uh, the strip club...

JB: The musical!

PB: It’s cool because we wouldn’t do that in our solo work. I think it just highlights the specialness of the time. Like we’re setting out to make the boygenius things right now.

LD: It’s also acknowledging a bit of hype, which is fun because we’re members of the boygenius fandom ourselves. So, people asking for the record, we’re able to give them the record.

NR: What makes something a boygenius song versus a solo?

LD: At least for me, context changes what I write about, and how I write. So, we just decided to be each other’s context for a couple years. It’s not some big secret, we chose to do this, to devote space and time.

NR: Your music feels so vulnerable yet there’s always this play. How do you feel your senses of humor factor into your work?

PB: It’s silly. We kind of enable each other. I feel like there have been several times where I’m like, am I allowed to write this? And the boys were like, yeah, obviously.

NR: What’s on the essential boygenius book list? The Book Club?

LD: Myth of Sisyphus.

PB: Stop!

LD: What are books that we’ve all read? Like Carmen Maria Machado, both of her books. The Sympathizer, we all loved. Letters to a Young Poet.

JB: I’ve heard y’all reference a lot and it’s nice to feel like ideas, instead of slipping into like a landfill or whatever, get recycled to me. I don’t know, I just like hearing y’all talk about books that I haven’t read too.

PB: That’s my main experience. I’m always the one that did not read the thing. I read way more because of this band which is so tight.

JB: I feel like you’re always reading essays on some lane of art and I’m just like, dang, all I read was a graphic novel and Sartre again.

LD: Sartre again. Y’all have podcasts. I’m completely out for the podcast conversation.

JB: Phoebe got me into podcasts. I used to just be like, it’s not radio, I don’t understand it. All the podcasts I listen to are just things [Phoebe] told me to listen to —99 PI, Hidden Brain.

PB: I do not have the strength to have thoughts when I’m doing things.

NR: I was listening to My Favorite Murder a while ago and was like, wait a second. Is that Phoebe Bridgers??

PB: I felt so nervous. I think that’s the last time I had actual stage fright.

LD: Is that the one where you say, “yeah, me and my friend Lucy kissed” and then everyone freaked out?

PB: Now, no one could possibly get freaked out by us kissing. It’s just part of it. “I went to a Boygenius show and Julien and Phoebe or Lucy and Phoebe kissed.”

JB: There’s a picture of me and Lucy and my mom asked if it was the guitarist from Muna because I think she saw one picture of me and Joe [Maskin] kissing and thinks we’re dating. Mom, you’re on Twitter? Like she’s following me? I felt love.

From left: S.S. Daley monogram tailored jacket. JEAN PAUL GAULTIER vintage top courtesy of Haut Archive. SIMONE ROCHA cotton stripe pointed collar shirt; JOHN LAWRENCE SULLIVAN wool stripe jacket.

NR: Who are your favorite unsung girl geniuses of history?

LD: Nick Drake’s mom, Molly Drake. She is an incredible poet and songwriter and pianist. They re-released a collection of her works recently. You can hear how Nick Drake was obviously inspired by her as her kid.

PB: Emily Bronte’s brother.

LD: We went to the Bronte mansion. Mansion. I just mixed up the Biltmore Mansion and the Bronte house because we also...

PB: We love to go to old places that people lived in.

LD: It’s like we’re trying to get haunted. We all showed up upset to the Bronte Museum and then in the first room they were like, “here’s the couch where Emily Bronte died of tuberculosis at age 30.” Now

whenever we’re all upset and it’s hard to get out of, we call it Brontitis. Emily and Anne had a brother named Branwell. Branwell Bronte who was a great artist. But he was underappreciated and wished he could be more like his sisters. (Phoebe has been roaming her house for the entire interview, white blonde hair streaming behind her, angles the camera down at a pug sitting alone on a large baroque couch.)

PB: Maxine Bridgers.

LD: I think Maxine’s pretty sung. She’s not unsung at all.

JB: Maxine’s sung.

NR: What were you about to say?

JB: Hilma af Klint. But obviously things come in tides of awareness. Something that’s unsung to me doesn’t necessarily mean it’s unsung in fine visual art.

PB: She was unsung in her life.

JB: But that was a choice, right? She was like, don’t publish anything or show my work until fifty years after my death.

PB: So sick.

NR: Going back to this haunting thing. Have you ever been haunted?

LD: We’ve been talking about this. Unclear.

JB: I was haunted! I was haunted!

LD: Julien was haunted.

JB: I was haunted. It was...demon. I don’t think it was a ghost.

LD: I have witnessed haunting but personally, I’m a clean vessel.

JB: What the fuck. This [interview] is so...

PB: My dating life in my early fucking twenties for sure was haunted.

LD: Are we just calling abuse haunting now? Ok. Well, I was haunted when I was in my early twenties too. (They all laugh.)

PB: Born haunted, dude,

JB: Born haunted just took me by surprise.

LD: That’s generational trauma babe.

JB: I had an apartment with bad vibes.

LD: Julien had an apartment where someone was murdered and rolled up in a carpet and put in a closet.

PB: Wait, was that the apartment that I was in? Yo? OK. UM. (Immediate chattering over each other.)

LD: How have we not talked about this? Julien recently said that she was told [about the murder] upon moving in and was like, bet, I’ll just be here.

PB: That does not surprise me.

LD: And then all that shit went down and you didn’t move. I can’t believe it.

JB: Let me tell you how metaphorical this shit was. Basically, they [realtors] just painted some stuff a hip color of green and put a pool in and doubled the rent. And I was like, okay, I’ll mime being an adult and pay way too much money for this apartment in the right part of town, to be the right kind of person, with all my cool East Nashville friends or whatever. And it was just full of murder and history. I did not have a good time there and I was all alone. That place had bad vibes. Top to bottom.

LD: Bad vibes is the most, like, inane way you could say what was happening in that apartment.

From left: CHOPOVA LOWENA dress. RAVE REVIEW fleece jacket; stylist's own BURBERRY vintage pants. SIMONE ROCHA nylon single breasted car coat; GUCCI shirt.

JB: Before I’d only ever lived in houses like on a yoga mat or with five other people who were in six different bands. Moving there and being like, nice a dishwasher, and it was this spot where somebody had been like, “I think there’s a murder” and the cops came and were like, no murder here. But there was! He was just rolled up in a carpet, and then the cops came back because of the smell and then they were like, oh, there was a murder. Anyway, that’s where I lived.

LD: You got way more info than you bargained for with that question.

NR: I don’t know how to transition here, wow. Do you feel like you’re optimists or pessimists?

LD: I’m an optimist.

NR: Didn’t sound very convincing.

LD: I’m the devil’s advocate for the best-case scenario. I don’t think it’s gonna be like that, but I might as well petition for it.

JB: I would like to say I am a present tense pessimist and a future optimist. I’m like, let’s not make light of how much it sucks right now. It does not help the situation to say, “it could always be worse” or to say, “it’s not that bad.” I’m an optimist when I’m with you guys. Like, this is a pretty sick day we’re living,

LD: Our whole Europe tour was awesome. And then we all had one terrible day.

PB: That is so true. I was like, this day isn’t hell, this is actually my usual self on tour. We had one day like that in our whole time together this year. (Phoebe cleans the crust out of her dog’s nose.)

NR: Are you cleaning your dog’s nose?

PB: She’s been with her grandma and her nose fold is so full of crust. I can’t believe it.

LD: I love her. I want her to come sneeze on me.

(Now Julien shows her dog who’s “camera shy.” Lucy sings, “I love you” to both dogs.)

NR: What’s your ultimate love song?

LD: I have a lot of answers. I Went To The Store One Day by Father John Misty. I think that’s a great song. There’s a compilation of love songs of Nina Simone. A lot of perfect love songs on that.

PB: For You by Laura Marling is a great song.

JB: I’m trying to think of an answer that isn’t Options by Pedro the Lion.

PB: That’s not a love song, dude.

LD: We’re not accepting that answer anymore.

JB: That’s 100% a love song.

LD: Don’t say that. I have a playlist called “Perfect Love Song”. Who Knows Where The Time Goes by Nina Simone. I Need Your Love So Bad by Irma Thomas. Dance Song by Dijon. P.S. I Love You by Billie Holiday. I Love You Always Forever, Donna Lewis. Bless the Telephone, Serpentwithfeet does a great cover.

From top: S.S. DALEY monogram tailored jacket and pleated skirt. JEAN PAUL GAULTIER vintage top courtesy of Haut Archive. SIMONE ROCHA cotton stripe pointed collar shirt; JOHN LAWRENCE SULLIVAN wool stripe jacket.

NR: Are you specific with playlist names?

LD: No, I’ll make the playlist name and then I’ll wait for the songs.

PB: I agree and then I’m curating forever.

LD: Never finished, always growing. It’s more of a catalog or an archive than a playlist that I would send to somebody. It’s a research tool.

JB: I have a playlist called “Queerly Specific” that’s all about coming out from a place of being in love. All songs about that. Casimir Pulaski Day by Sufjan Stevens. The one where he kisses his friend.

PB: My mom banned it from the house. She was like do not play the cancer song ever again.

LD: Reservations by Wilco. Modern Romance by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

JB: Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod by The Mountain Goats. Do you know that tune?

PB: No.

JB: Oh, ok. It’s a good one. They have a lot of good love songs because they’re like little vignettes of like living with a person and all the little intricate weirdo shit they do, which is what I ultimately think comprises a lot of love. Just checking out somebody’s weirdo shit.

(As we sign off, Phoebe nods, “Bye, Boys.”)

Makeup Tabitha Thomas / Hair Linnéa Nordberg / Set Design Julia Dias / Casting Greg Krelenstein / Production CEBE Studi

11/3/23

(x)(x)(x)

[kamii-2]

Can you write daryl x daughter!reader(adopted) and she has never expressed interest in any guys(and the group and others tease her all the time with carl or any other guys around) one day on a run daryl catches her looking at a magazine that has women with bikinis or lingerie and maybe another time he catches her being all smily with other girls, until he walks in on her and enid making out is when he puts it together. And the next day reader comes to him and comes out and hes just super supportive?🫶🏾

hi anon and tysm for requesting!! i didn’t do one of the things you wanted in the story because if i did, it would be super long (im so sorry). anyway i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: inappropriate magazines, lingerie, bikinis, and making out

season: 6

genre: tbh idek 😭 i guess fluff and angst?

——————

growing up you never were attracted to men. you never talked about boys in any other way but platonically and you never read or watched anything sexual about them. you were the odd one out with all of your friends before and during the apocalypse, they talked about boys and how they wanted to get married and shit like that while you just sat there awkwardly. you don’t know why you don’t like men like every girl, except tara, does. sometimes you wish you did, you felt like an outcast to everyone in your group and Alexandria.

nobody knows about you liking girls except carl, you two have been friends since the beginning of the apocalypse. you did everything together, like go on runs, read comics, etc. since you guys are so close, everyone has assumed you two liked each other but you (obviously) don’t. you’ve done EVERYTHING to make them stop, but it never works. you guys have stayed apart from eachother to see if it would work but it failed because you guys got bored of it after the first couple hours, you’ve tried giving speeches on how you guys don’t like each other but they still don’t listen, so after a while you two just gave up.

-small time skip-

you and carl were sitting on his bed reading comics, then tara walks in, “hey lovebirds-“ she started but you and carl quickly said “we aren’t together.” she rolled her eyes and said “rick and daryl said get your stuff and meet them at the gate, they’re taking you guys on a run.” she closed the door and walked away. “well, let’s get ready i guess” you say while getting off his bed and leaving to go to your room.

you grabbed your gun, knife, and bag full of necessities. you walked out of the house and went to the car by the gate where daryl, rick, and carl were standing, waiting for you. “hurry up y/n!” daryl yelled. “i’m trying!” you said back while starting to jog. once you got in the car, rick started to play some weird country type music, but you ignored it and looked out the window as you all drove to your destination.

once you got and you all got out, you started to plan. “okay so carl and y/n you take the right side and me and daryl will take the left, if you see anything of use, grab it.” rick instructed everyone. when you walked in you went to the first aisle on the right and look at all the shelves for anything to use back home.

while walking down the aisle, you seen a box on the shelf. you picked it up and set it on the ground then sat next to it while opening it up. inside it had atleast 5 playboy magazines. you picked all of them up and looked at he covers of them in shock. you were curious so you put all but one back and opened it up to the first page which you immediately seen a girl in lingerie, your eyes went wide and you flipped to the next page and seen another lady but in a bikini this time. before you could flip again, daryl turned the corner and seen you and the magazines, “y/n what are you reading?!” he said in shock.

you quickly closed the magazine and stood up. “so.. uhm, i-i..” you stuttered out while looking at your adoptive dad. your heart was beating super hard and fast. you were silent and looking everywhere but his face. “why were you reading a playboy magazine?” he asked you calmly, you didn’t know how to reply so you stayed quiet. “y/n you aren’t in trouble, just tell me why.” he said again, you took one shakey breath then said, “i found it in this box,” you pushed the box to him with your foot, “and i got curious from the cover so i opened one.” you admitted. daryl narrowed his eyes at you but still believed you. “okay.. we’ll find some other things then come to the entrance.” he said while walking away, “okay.” you said, waiting for him to get far enough, then you proceeded to shove two playboy magazines in your bag.

after about 10 minutes you went to the door where everyone else was. all you found was food and bandages. “okay, let’s go.” rick said as he opened the door, walking out to the car. the rest of you followed behind him. after reaching the car you all got in and drove back home. carl peeked over at your bag on the ground and seen the magazines peeking out, “hey uh y/n, look in your bag” he said in a whisper while nodding his head to your bag. the magazines were sticking out and you shoved them so far in your bag they probably ripped, “if you tell anyone about this i will suffocate you in your sleep.” you whispered back while pointing at him. he nodded his head and turned away trying to not laugh.

once you guys got back you got out the car and ran into the house and straight into your room. you stashed the magazines in a box in your closet then buried it in random things.

-another time skip-

you and enid were sitting in your bed silently. you were just staring at the wall and enid was reading a comic, “wanna watch a movie?” you ask enid. “sure, which movie?” she said while turning to you, “we could watch Coraline.” you suggested while getting up to find the movie, “sure” enid said while putting the comic up.

once you found the movie you put it in your dvd player that daryl gave you as a gift a couple months ago. the movie started to play and you went to go sit down. enid had her eyes in you the whole time, watching every movement you made. you noticed she was staring and asked “what?” as you sat next to her. she started to slowly lean in and so did you. both of your lips connected and you straddled her lap.

she slipped her tongue in your mouth and let her hands roam your body. your make out session was cut short whenever daryl opened the door. you flew off of her and daryl just looked shocked and closed your door and left. “oh my god enid. this is not how i wanted to come out to my dad.” you said while covering your whole face with your hands. “it’s okay.” she said while hugging you, “what if he doesn’t support me?” you said about to start crying. “why wouldn’t he support you?” she questioned you, “his brother was homophobic and i don’t know if he is too” you said, tears falling down your face. enid wiped your tears and hugged you tighter, “why don’t you go and talk to him about it?” she asked. “i’m too scared” you responded while wiping your tears. “tell him tomorrow, it will give you some time to think about what to say.” she suggested, “okay, thank you” you said to her while giving her a little peck on the cheek. “i’m gonna go home, it’s getting a little late.” she said while getting up. you both said bye and you went to sleep.

-the next day-

you woke up anxious about telling your dad but you had a feeling it will go well. after you got ready, you walked outside to the front porch and seen your dad. a wave of nervousness washed over you, “hey dad, can we talk?” you said while hesitantly sitting down. “yea, what’s wrong” daryl said while looking at you. “so as you can see from yesterdays events, i like girls.” you said trying to stay calm, he stared at you with a blank face. you got scared about what he might say, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked. his response took you by surprise.

“i thought you wouldn’t support me.” you admitted to him, “why wouldn’t i?” he wondered. “to be honest, i don’t know” you responded, to which he chuckled at. “well just know i’ll support you no matter what.” he said while smiling and hugging you. “thank you dad, i love you.” you said while hugging back, “i love you too.”

—————

this story took so long to write but i love it so much!! i hope you guys like the story!

[twig-gy]

NAME ME - it/its

tell me to edit it into my desc but banner by nebuleeart & icon by felix-lupin

profile picture id: digital edit of a pin with a spiral and an x. the spiral is the sitelen pona for nasa (strange) and the x is the sitelen pona for ala (not) so together it reads ‘not strange’ or ‘normal’. end id

banner id: a landscape of hills, a road, and forest, at nighttime - the moon, stars, and a lot of clouds (sticking to the horizon) are out - in the colors of the nonbinary flag (black, purple, yellow, and white). end id

i don’t reliably tag triggers, but self posts about self-harm/addiction or writing about gore will definitely be tagged (just the trigger, like ‘self harm’ or ‘addiction’) - i only do #[trigger] or #[trigger] mention so if tags are a bit weird that’s why. gifs are tagged with #gifs, flashing things with #flashing, and eyestrain with #eyestrain. i don’t trigger tag posts about Real World Events, mostly because, again, i am not reliable, partially because it feels weird to start now - nudity is untagged because of the latter. faggot&dyke&tranny = untagged we ride free

recent writing 1 recent writing 2 (cjshipping)

i don't have a dni for Reasons but please don't follow me if you have jashshippers on your dni and if you do you must answer my riddles three (the other post has my riddles three but if you want version with less talking: link)

i write cccc fic - my ao3 is janSikepa - give me requests! there’s just no guarantee i will do them - i appreciate comments and compliments SO MUCH

i will always appreciate an ask or any form of human communication

times i've been called homoerotic in some way: 1, somehow, despite the fact i'm aro

have been called “genuinely one of the most annoying faggots on this site” before

mutuals i have convinced to watch centricide: 4 :D

fellow jtoh mutuals: 1 (join the list!!!!)

official time loop posts: 4

“”mandatory”” listening: link

at all moments i will make inexplicable references. if you mention heart mind or soul then my cccc receptors will immediately go off. hope this helps!

cccc : main interest. posts slightly related to it/less thought out are #brainrot.png and posts where i talk more are brainrot.exe

(list of drawing ideas i have but can’t draw cause i can’t draw: link)

jtoh : like it but do not play it as often, i talk about it sometimes. its tag is #jtohposting

centricide : i like it en talk about it on occasion. its tag is #jreg.jpeg but that also includes other posts abt jreg

toki pona : i’m still learning it. sometimes i make posts in or about it (#tok.exe). i’m translating cccc into it, so far i have time machine reprise done and posted (ilo tenpo pi sin ala), and spring and a storm/storm and a spring have their lyrics finished. you can ask me abt how that is going if you want [NOTE: PAUSED CAUSE MY MICROPHONE SUCKS :((((]

#twig.txt is my tag for selfposts

#asks.png is my tag for asks

#amazing art!! is for art i like a lot

#holding onto these is for posts i find important to keep in my safe

#twiggy cites the classics is for posts i consider ‘classics’ somehow (stolen from @/virgils_muse)

#jtohposting is for silly posts relating to jtoh that none of you will get ‘cause i’m 99% sure i’m the only one on this webbed site who likes jtoh

#mi pali e ni is for when i make things

(#mi pali e kalama musi is for music and #mi pali e sitelen is for writing)

if i tag something with heartposting/mindposting/soulposting that's bc i think that they'd say that

#wholeposting is for my thoughts on whole which i have very occasionally

#jaship mention is for any post about or mentioning shipping between hms

#hmsex is for any post mentioning hms having the sex. i see nothing wrong with it but i won’t talk about it that in depth. i just need my followers to be on their toes /silly

[id: userbox with the toki pona icon on the left and the words "sona mi pi toki pona li ike." on the right.]

[my toki pona is bad]